"Mom and I are packing up gramma's house today." I held out Garth's travel mug that I just filled.
"Ok, Kim, well you'll be busy all day and most likely tired so order whatever you want for supper."
I follow him out to take our recycle bin to sidewalk, standing beside his car he kisses me intimately, rubs my bum affectionately. "I love you."
"Love you too, have a great day."
As Garth drives away, I'm roll the recycle bin down the driveway; I hear Emily, our neighbor across the street, cursing Jerome flipping him the bird. Standing on their front step in her housecoat, Jerome doesn't see her obscene hand gesture, as he's looking over his shoulder backing out their driveway. Jerome squeals his tires as he races away.
I don't know Emily and Jerome very well; Garth and I only moved to this suburban neighborhood 4 months ago.
I know if I were as upset as she appears I would want a friend, someone to hug or even just to vent to, so I cross the street; pondering how I might console her, as I've only been married a couple years, and she's got a daughter in college.
Ringing the doorbell, I decide to be matter of fact and frank. Emily is wiping tears as the door opens.
"Emily, I witnessed your disdain; I know I'm maybe too young to offer you advice so you can simply tell me to fuck off, that it's none of my business and I will. Or let me give you a hug, we'll have a coffee, and I'll quietly listen if you want someone to talk to, I won't judge and I'll only offer my opinion if you ask for it."
Emily's tears start flowing again as she opens her arms.
We embrace in the open doorway for several moments her face on my shoulder, her tear-soaked cheek against mine she tightens her grip and whimpers. "Thank-you, Kimberley, yes come in for a coffee." I follow her to the kitchen.
"Please call me Kim, only my mom calls me Kimberley." Emily retrieves a cup from the cupboard; fills both cups, "Cream or sugar?" Returns the pot and sits across the table.
"I'm sweet enough." Attempting to lighten the mood.
Emily takes a sip, with a grunt, "According to Jerome I better add a teaspoon of coffee to the sugar bowl." Emily wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her terry robe. I gaze empathetically at her, biting my lip as promised, waiting for her to talk or not. It was several moments of her fingers playing with her cup before she peers up at me. I tip my head slightly, raise my eyebrows and curl my lips into a sympathetic grin.
Emily took a sip, nodding her head as she set the cup back on the table, fingers holding it tight like it might try and get away. "Yesterday was our 22nd anniversary, he didn't mention it before work, all day I'd figured he likely made restaurant reservations to surprise me, so I didn't cook. Around 4 he called to say he would be late coming home. Again, I anticipated it was part of some big surprise." Emily's voice was cracking, fighting more tears, she looked directly at me.
"When he arrived around 8, he was angry his supper wasn't ready, so I hastily ordered his favorite, Thai take out. Simply out of curiosity I asked why he was late; he went with co-workers for drinks." Emily looked at the ceiling, whimpering, "He goes out for drinks on our anniversary and gets angry and scolds me for not catering to him, mad I didn't cook. With a simple question as to why he was late further triggered him into a rage, truly irate I ordered food instead of cooking. Yelling that I was spending too much of his hard-earned money. I'd never seen him in a mood like that."
Emily took a sip, wiped her eyes again, "Supper arrived, and he refused to eat, he went directly to bed with his laptop." Emily pursed her lips, looking like a sad, beaten puppy, "I was too scared to go to our bed, I slept on the sofa." Her tears began again. I desperately wanted to hug her to console her.
After a few moments Emily continued, "I made him a lunch this morning, he dropped it in the garbage and said he was no longer brown bagging at work, if I wasn't concerned about spending his money ordering take out, because I'm lazy, why should he; he said he'd be going out for lunch with work colleagues."
Emily was trying to compose herself. "I defiantly asked if we can't afford take out, how he can afford drinks and lunches." He went into another angry rage about how I don't have job so I should at least be able to cook, he is the one working hard every day making money, so he can spend it however he chooses."
Emily finished her coffee. "That's when he stomped out. I never mentioned it was our anniversary."
My phone chimed, I received a text, it was mom, she was on route to pick me up.
"I'm sorry Emily, that's just terrible, and I'd love to stay and help, but I have to go, my mom's a few blocks away, my Gramma died last week and we're cleaning her house today." I reach across for Emily's hand, she nodded said she understood and laid her fingers on my palm, forcing a smile. "Thank-you for listening it helped."
I stood, "I'll check in with you when I get back."
"I'd like that, again, thank-you for listening, I do feel better." Emily stood holding her arms out again. We embraced; as I stepped back, I lightly traced my fingernails along her arms, taking hold of both her hands. "Garth told me to order take out tonight if you want to join us." I smile with a little chuckle.
Emily had a bit of a smile, "I'm going to heat up the leftover take out he didn't eat last night and tell him it was expensive, I didn't think he would want me to throw it out." There was a genuine mischievous grin on her face as I exited. Pleased I'd made a new friend; Mom pulled up as I crossed the street.
Mom and I sorting everything as we were emptying the kitchen cupboards, we had a plastic storage box for items she wanted, another for me and a garbage can. Mom was emptying the cupboard above the fridge and handed me Gramma's recipe box, "That's for you, you've only been married a couple years; I already copied all her recipe's I want." I reach to take the small box, Mom holds the box tightly, so I look up at her, she smiles mischievously, looking down at me. "Did Gramma ever share any of her special secret recipes with you?" I look at her puzzled and query, "Special recipes?"
Mom, still holding the tiny box, steps down off the stool, "Yes the red cards in here," flipping open the box lid, there were likely 50 white cards, several blue ones, a few dog-eared folded papers, and a few red cards mom pulls out and hands to me. I read aloud the titles, taking the top one and tuck it under the others.
"Passion Paste, Libido Boost," I give mom a quick glance, she's grinning ear to ear, I read the next. "Steamy Stimulator, Ultra HOT Enhancer" and the last card, "Aphrodisiac Potion, with a black pen drawing of a skull and crossbones warning." Intrigued I start silently reading the ingredients.