Thirteen (Tim); No transformation.
I prop myself up onto one elbow and regard my bemused, sleepy-looking wife.
"Who was on the phone?" I ask her.
"Uh?" She turns around and blinks at me in surprise. "Oh! You're awake! Yes, well, that was a stupid thing to say, wasn't it Heather?" she purses her lips, obviously annoyed with herself, then sighs. "On the phone? Tim, Tim Roth."
"Oh." I say. I wonder what he wanted at this time in the mor- I catch sight of the clock and grimace slightly. Not morning, it's afternoon. As if she's read my mind Heather answers my unspoken question.
"He wanted Amy's number." She says, sounding bemused. "Dunno why..." her voice trails off as her eyes light up with the dawn of a new idea. "Hey! D'you think he might - you know?"
No, I don't know. I don't understand how women can finish off each other's sentences and answer questions that are only half formed, because no 'normal' person should be able to 'mind-read' like that. It isn't right. Or fair. They always complain about men being secretive and never talking, but half the time we haven't the faintest idea what the fuck they're going on about!
"No?" I half questions. Heather hiccoughs, then goes red.
"D'you think he might - like - you know - fancy Amy or something?"
"No idea." I attempt to shrug, but it's not that easy to do when you're leaning on your elbow, and I'm only partly surprised when my arm gives way under me and I end up collapsing very unelegently back onto the pillows. Heather giggles at me and I roll my eyes. She's twenty eight and she she still giggles. Actually, I can't envision her changing much.
I can almost see her at sixty, still raving about Starlight Express and various other things I won't understand then, like I don't understand them now. Not that I want her to change! I don't want her to try and conform to society's stereotypical view of the 'older man's younger wife'. I love her the way she is, I don't want her to try and be someone and something she's not.
"Sorry, what?" I didn't even know I'd lost myself into a reverie of thoughts until I hear Heather's voice, and I realise I haven't been listening to a word she's been saying. Oops... Shit, I hope she doesn't get offended...!
"Never mind," she smiles at me and shakes her head. "It's okay." she adds, lying back down and moving closer to me. I automatically put my arm around her, smiling slightly as I feel her relax almost completely. "I love you..." She says quietly, almost hopefully. Two years and we haven't left this stage. I guess that's kinda sad, but it's kinda nice, too. I smile more and rest my chin lightly on her head.
"I love you too."
Chapter 12 ; Contents ; Chapter 14
