Jack sat in his favorite chair and took another sip of his drink, late on Saturday morning. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air as quiet music played in the background, but none of the ambiance raised his mood.
He'd expected to spend the holiday weekend in casual domestic comfort with his wife, but her sudden weekend getaway had left him without anything concrete to do. The house felt eerily quiet without Tabitha, as her idle chatter would fill the silence, a constant stream of consciousness with little meaning or value beyond announcing her presence, but he freely admitted he did the same; it was a shared love language of theirs. She would be returning on Monday evening; Until then, he was at a loose end.
His odd mood left him unsure of what to do with himself. He had no errands to run, no chores to complete, none of his usual hobbies or distractions felt suitable, he knew better than to indulge in day drinking, and he didn't want to be sociable. Instead, he just sat and stared into space, occasionally taking another sip as his mind wandered, until the doorbell rang.
Opening the door, he was surprised to see his daughter waiting on his doorstep wearing a long black coat and a pensive expression. He had considered calling her, but he didn't think a nineteen-year-old college student would want a call from her father on a Saturday morning, so he decided to put it off until later in the afternoon. Anyway, she'd grown closer to Tabby than him for the last few years, almost friends instead of mother and daughter, while conversation between him and Suzanna had become increasingly awkward and distant. He braced himself for the new standard between them, an awkward distance he no longer knew how to bridge.
"Hi Dad," she said with false warmth that didn't reach her eyes.
"Hi, Suzie," he responded, flatly adding "I wasn't expecting you. Your Mom's not here at the moment, but come on in," and standing aside.
"Yeah, I know," she said quietly as she stepped inside.
He considered the implication as he turned away. Of course she'd spoken to Tabby, just like almost every other day, and her sudden appearance, her purpose, was obvious. But was his daughter here as an ally, an intermediary, or as a flying monkey? Instead, he asked "Would you like a coffee?" as they moved through the hallway.
"Sure," she replied from behind him as she kicked off her boots.
Tabitha had wanted a coffee pod machine, something tween Suzie had excitedly announced as 'bougie,' but Jack had pushed back a little, preferring the freedom of a normal drip coffee maker. In the end, he'd compromised on another little thing, and so he rifled through the cartons to find her favorite caramel macchiato and fired up the machine.
He braced himself as it started to hiss. "So... your Mom."
The words hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity, both unsure exactly what to say.
"Yeah, Mom," she eventually replied, glancing down at the floor momentarily, her hand rubbing the back of her neck as if trying to smooth away the discomfort. "I figured I'd see how you were doing."
Jack wasn't quite sure if her attitude was because of the raw awkwardness of the topic, or possibly second-hand embarrassment about what she'd heard, but after considering his response, he pushed on. "Not great," he admitted, "It was...It was a lot. Brutal, even."
"Um, she said you didn't have much to say about it."
"What's to say?" he asked emotionlessly, loading the second pod into the machine. "She announced she was leaving with some gym rat, then rushed out the door with a suitcase. The whole thing took thirty seconds. I mean, she's always been free to leave - but after twenty plus years I kind've thought I'd get more warning than that."
"Oh, oh, yeah, well, that's not quite how she told it, but I mean, it's not that bad! I mean, she'll be back on Monday, right? It's just a weekend trip, after all, you know, right?"
"It's not 'just a weekend trip.' It's not a couple of days in Vegas with an old pal or a night out with the girls. It's three days sharing a bed, and her body, intimately, with another man. No matter how you dress that up, that's kind of a big deal."
"I guess it's okay to be not happy about it, I suppose, but it's not that bad. I mean, she's not sneaking around behind your back. It's not cheating, that'd be a killer, but she told you about it, and everyone's allowed to be a little selfish once in a while," Suzie paused, as if for effect, adding "She'll be back soon, and things will be back exactly the way they were." she said confidently, making a single decisive nod at the end, in a way that seemed almost childlike to Jack.
Nonplussed, he looked at her confident expression for a moment before saying "That's one way to look at it, I suppose."
"And I'm glad to see you're handling it okay," she added, with a small, gentle smile, "I was a bit worried you might be a bit upset, on the way over here. You can't know how happy I am that you're taking it this well!"
He shook his head slowly. "I'm really not okay," he said, before asking "Do you know how to spot a tsunami?"
"What?" she asked in a raised tone, confused by the sudden tangent.
"The tide goes out, impossibly far, and... never mind. It's a bad analogy. Anyway, I'm not feeling too great about things right now, and the more I think about it, the worse it is; Let's put it that way."
With a final sputter, the coffee machine finished its work. Jack studied it for a moment, wondering if Tabitha would keep it or if he'd have to dispose of it, before wordlessly handing the beverage to Suzie and casually heading back through to the lounge.
Jack shuffled to his chair and collapsed into it, before feeling his coffee mug, while Suzie entered the room, chattering to herself.
"...I mean if you think about it, it's a good thing - sort of a renewal. A way to shake things up and get new perspectives on things."
The cup was still warm, he confirmed, as he watched her carefully perch on the couch, move a cork coaster slightly, and daintily place her drink in front of her.
Leaning forward, she asked, "Don't you think so?"
"No, it's over," he said in a monotone, "It's crossing a hard line. We're done."
"We're done with what?" she asked blankly.
He looked her in the eyes, confused for a moment about the disconnect, and brushed his free hand against the corduroy fabric of the chair's arm before clarifying, "The marriage. Our marriage."
He watched as her eyes flared wide, stunned for a moment, before they narrowed and she said "What? No... That's an overreaction, Dad. You're just responding emotionally. Stressed out." Her voice rising slightly again, she rapidly added "It's just a few days, not a reason to throw anything away. Once you've got a little distance from the situation, you'll think differently!"
Jack leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling for a moment as he listened to Suzie actively try to dismiss his feelings, and sighed to himself, before leaning forward and taking another sip of his now-lukewarm coffee. Her eyes bored into him as she waited for him to speak again, the fake warmth of her smile plastered over worry this time.
"That's the thing, darling. I'm not emotional. I'm going to be. I'm going to be very emotional, probably shortly after your Mom walks through the door on Monday night, but certainly sometime soon. I'm going to shatter like glass. But right now, right now I'm cold, I'm ice cold and I'm not feeling anything at all. But that means I can think, and I've thought about it; Analyzed the situation, both from an intellectual and an emotional standpoint, and everything points the same way."
He scanned the room. Beige. Cream and tan and beige. Tabitha had gone to war against the very concept of color in the last few years. He missed the bright orange couch they'd had ten years ago. It was quirky, but that wasn't a bad thing. They'd both liked it at the time. A harsh thought about the nature of compromise when there was no more middle ground passed through his mind, and he wondered who'd end up living this bland nightmare before he dismissed it for another time.
Looking back at her, his daughter's mask had slipped again. Now, her face showed something new, and she looked hurt. He wished he could feel something for a moment, but there was nothing.
Instead, he tried to explain. "There's basically three reasons. Any one of them is good enough. In fact, no reason is really needed to end a marriage, not really, but I've got at least three. The first and most obvious reason is that this is classic infidelity."
"No! It's not!" she replied hotly, "We went over this, she's not cheating! She told you what she's up to! Sure, it's selfish, but it's not cheating. There's no sneaking around, she's been honest with you!"
Jack smiled wryly. "I think you just want that to be true. If I tell your mother I'm going to hit her, does that make it okay to beat her up, or is it still domestic violence? If I shout 'This is a stick up!' before I pull out a gun, does that mean it's not a bank robbery? How about this, if I tell a man I'm going to kill him, will I be found 'not guilty' of the murder, or will the sentence be worse due to premeditation? No, telling me doesn't somehow make it okay. Not when I don't have a choice. But okay, let's presume you're right, and it's not cheating; I never said it was. I said it was infidelity. There's a difference."
She looked unhappy, and possibly a little confused. Actually, she looked very unhappy and was starting to look a little pale. Beige. He nearly laughed. She matched the decor.
