Dressed in a pair of jeans and a faded brown tank-top, she pondered even showering and changing into something a little more attractive, perhaps even treating herself to a solo dinner and some time at a bar to toss back a drink or two. But she wasn't the type to party on her own. Most of her friends were at home with their husbands or wives and children and were living up the lives of the families that she'd once known herself. Now, the huge four-bedroom house was all her own and as empty as the day before she and Charles moved their loads of furniture and knicknacks into the many rooms to make it their home.
The thousands of dollars thrown into personalizing every corner of the house seemed now wasted, for only one
was around to ever enjoy any of it, and she often spent her nights in front of the television or in bed with her nose in a book. Tonight might very well turn into one of those nights. How many more would pass until she was able to know happiness again? Looking somber as she retreated from the window, she brushed her dark brown hair back behind one ear and glided down the staircase to the dining room below. Through the grand gourmet kitchen, down the hall to the cellar door, she made her descent into the dimly lit area where the second freezer had been kept. She pulled out a healthy sized slice of prime rib and grabbed a bottle of cabernet from the rack against the far wall. With tonight's meal in hand, she made her way back up the stairs to the kitchen, where the meat was dressed in its requisite spices and the crystal goblet was set gently nearby to await the pouring of the first dose of numbing warmth.
As the scent of the meat wafted throughout the kitchen and out the windows, Mara slid down onto the floor, her back propped against one of the cupboard doors, and commenced to take hefty sips of the expensive aged wine her husband had bought a few years ago for their anniversary. She reclined her head back to where her glassy eyes centered on the ceiling. "Happy anniversary, darling. Happy anniversary," she said, one tiny tear escaping from her soft eyes and trailing down her cheek. The love that Charles had once given her far surpassed anything she'd ever known. Despite the fact that he was practically twice her age and had very little in common with her to begin with, there had been something tender in the way he held her. He knew his love for his young and
beautiful wife would never cease, even as his casket had been placed into the the earth.
That afternoon that seemed like an eternity away came back to her as she realized that two years had passed since his death. Two years of loneliness and wondering whether she'd ever make it in life on her own. Those were two years that she'd worked hard as the local museum's curator in her husband's place. She tossed back the last of the wine and pulled herself up to check on the steak. It was just another Saturday night, she thought, a good night for steak and wine and maybe some TV to watch till she passed out in the La-Z-Boy.
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Mara "the not-so-merry widow" Winthorpe