An end to a never-ending story.

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Craig called Jenny from the office just before lunch time. "Are you up for a bite? I went to get my hair cut earlier and my barber  told me about a great little Mexican place. Wanna try it?"

Jenny's eyebrows arched. This was a surprise! She'd made a comment a few weeks before after he'd taken a colleague for lunch for the umpteenth time that it would be nice if he thought about her every once in a while. It was a bit of a caustic comment and she knew it but she had been feeling very neglected of late. It seemed that all Craig cared about was work and when he got home he would collapse in front of the television set and in a short while would resemble a member of the living dead. 'The Zombie Box' she called it. They were not even married yet and here was acting like an old man already. She resisted the urge to ask him if this was a guilt offering and agreed to join him. She was wearing an old tracksuit and her hair was a bit of a mess so she quickly changed into smart black jeans and a clean shirt and went off to the bathroom to freshen up. She was applying the finishing touches to her makeup when she heard him call up for her. His tone was impatient.
"Are you ready? I can't wait all day!"
"I'll be right down." she yelled and sprayed a little perfume onto her throat, checked her appearance in the mirror and then bounded down the stairs.

He looked so handsome with his hair cut short. The style accentuated the lines of his face and his incredible eyes really seemed to stand out. She was about to say something about how good he looked when he cut her short.
"Let's go. I don't have all day"
In a few short minutes they arrived at the shopping complex and found their way to the recommended Mexican restaurant. He took one look at it,  complained that they did not have outdoor seating and suggested another venue. She sighed inwardly but nodded her head in agreement and  followed him. Soon they were ordering lunch from the Greek deli. She ordered a chicken salad because she had put herself back on a diet. The night before he'd complained about the excess weight she was carrying and suggested that she'd never be able to have a baby in the shape she was in. Fat chance of that when they barely made love anymore. She wondered if anything would ever make him happy. It seemed that all he did lately was complain. The hardest thing to deal with was his snappy comments about how little she contributed. In heated arguments he'd inevitably rub it in that he was the breadwinner and complain that she did nothing but spend money. 'Yeah right. I only spend money on groceries more like it. I haven't had my hair done in nearly a year.' She thought about how ironic it was that he complained that he was the only one working when she had to handle all of the housework and most of the yard work too. The moment she'd moved in he'd summarily dispensed with the maid who came in to clean up once a week. "Why do we need her? It's a big expense and we can do the housework ourselves. There's only two of us." She smiled wryly to herself. He barely lifted a finger around the house and although he was dedicated and hardworking at the office, he behaved like a complete slob at home. He'd get out of bed in the morning, drop his clothing at the side of the bed and leave everything for her to clean up. If he ever lost anything, she was inevitably blamed and he'd accuse her of being obsessive compulsive about cleaning. She had a feeling that if she left everything, he'd still complain. Then, he'd really have reason to say she did nothing around the place. He made her feel that she had to 'pay' for her keep. In the early days he used to tell her that she was his queen and that he would build her a tower so that she could sit among the clouds to write. He said he wanted to marry her and promised to spend the rest of his life making her happy. 'Marriage'...the word had lost its shine. To a romantic like Jenny it was sacred and she'd had countless dreams about how it would be when the big moment arrived. She didn't care much for big flashy diamond rings but the way he proposed had to be memorable. It would be something she'd remember for a lifetime and tell her children about and even her grandchildren one day. He made so many promises like these, promises that seemed to have drifted away like capricious clouds on a windy day.

She snapped out of her reverie as the order arrived and brightened up. He'd invited her out to lunch. That was progress wasn't it? It's not as if they didn't go out. They did but never during a work week. This was a treat! She wondered if he'd noticed that she had tried to look good for him and was wearing his favourite perfume, one he'd bought her for Christmas. She'd noticed heads turning as she walked by. Many men noticed her and seemed to find her attractive even with the extra pounds he constantly made digs about. He used to tell her how beautiful she was all the time but lately he barely seemed to notice her. She felt like she was more of an irritation than anything else. In spite of her excitement about spending this unexpected time with him, she noticed that he was absorbed in his lunch and hardly looked up at her nevermind try to make conversation. She swallowed hard and fought tears. 'Not again. Oh God please don't let me cry again in public. I know how angry it makes him.'

Through the mist in her eyes she watched him dip his fries into the ranch dressing, a ritual for him. A memory slung a noose around her neck and dragged her backwards to a time when they first met. While they were having lunch and between kisses he'd written 'I love you Poopsy' all over a paper napkin and passed it to her. She'd giggled and responded on the same napkin, 'I love you Chooky Chooks'. Their pet names for one another were silly but made them laugh. They laughed a lot back then. She loved his romanticism and charming ways. 'What happened to that man? Where did I go wrong? Why has he stopped loving me?' Thoughts plagued her and she felt her heart drip like blood through the straw she was sipping on until she was sure the ice tea she was drinking was stained with it.

After lunch he dropped her back home and without as much as a peck on the cheek left to get back to work. She warily hung her handbag on the back of a chair, made herself a cup of coffee and slowly went back upstairs to their bedroom to settle in and write. It had always been her dream to be a famous author but in spite of a very vivid imagination and a way with words, she seemed unable to finish the book, the one she was sure was going to be the next best-seller. At this point, it was either going to turn into the thickest book in creation or she was going to have to scrap the whole idea and start over. She had created such a complex plot she'd tied her characters into a terrible tangle she couldn't seem to get them out of. 'It's like they've got a mind of their own' she muttered and then laughed at herself. 'Perhaps I am going crazy. I'm  talking to myself now. Craig always tells me that I'm nuts and here's proof.' As she passed the mirror she self-consciously checked her image again and noted that she had mascara smudged under her eyes. She didn't bother to wipe it off.

Jenny kicked off her heels, pulled out her laptop and sat cross-legged on the bed. She found some kind of peace shut off in the bedroom although Craig's barbs about her spending all day in bed really stung. She'd defensively argue that she wasn't actually in bed but sitting on top of the bed but it didn't make any difference. He obviously didn't understand. He'd suggested the dining room table but she found it uncomfortable and the huge picture window reflected light off her computer screen and made it impossible to see properly. She wished she had a desk but that was a luxury they couldn't afford. If only she could actually get this book finished and find a publisher who would publish it and readers who would read it, then maybe... She drifted off once again into a dreamy place, a place where money was no object and she was queen and had her own castle to rule and reign over. She'd have a bevy of maids to clean up after her and she'd never have to do the laundry again. She'd even be able to grow her nails and wave them around showing off like those women with nails do. She'd have her own car and lots of friends and never feel lonely again. She wished she had a companion. She'd begged Craig to allow her to get a puppy. She wanted to get one from a Shelter to save it from certain death so that she could love it and in return it would love her to the end of its days.

'Snap out of it dammit' she chided herself. It's no wonder she couldn't get the plot to fit into place when her own mind was so scattered. 'How on earth am I going to write a love story when my own is such a mess?' Her face wrinkled up with the thought and then she heard Craig's voice in her mind, 'Stop frowning. You'll get wrinkles.'
She stared at the page in front of her.
'Perhaps I should close this book and start another...hmmm...but what will I write about?' It was a scary to entertain the idea that she might never finish this story...one she'd been writing for four long years. She might write others and even become successful one day if she persevered but this would be her unfinished masterpiece.  Perhaps the pages she'd printed would be found after her death and published as is...incomplete. Much like life, that doesn't conveniently resolve before it ends. People die every day with loose ends and unfinished business. 

She giggled as a thought occurred to her, closed the open window on her laptop, clicked on the file where her book was stored and then pointed on delete.The cursor hovered over the delete button for just a moment like a buzzard and then....CLICK. It was gone in an instant. Well, not quite an instant. She did still have to empty her recycle bin. Once that was done she rubbed her hands together and then opened up a fresh page and after a brief hesitation began to type, hope reflecting in the light of her eyes. A clean page offers so many exciting possibilities.

Chantal Niven 2009