Keep Pretending
Monica Wensloe smiled to herself as she picked up her coffee-filled mug. She reflected how Mike, her husband, was so picky about his coffee. It can�t be too hot, he�d say, And it has to have exactly 1/3 cup of cream, and a teaspoon of sugar, or it just isn�t any good. She chuckled and sipped the soothing liquid. The 1/3 cup of cream was a bit much, compared to her two teaspoons, but it reminded her of her dearly beloved while he was at work.
He seems to be working later and later everyday, she thought. It�s almost like he doesn�t want to be here... But that�s silly. He loves Angela and I. He�d never... leave. I hardly ever get to see him though. He�s like a ghost.
Sitting down at the table, Monica remembered the day when they went out to buy it. Nothing was good enough for him. Too big, too small, too wide, too tall. Finally he settled on one - the one she couldn�t stand. It was big, bulky and ugly. They had argued for a week about, but he eventually persuaded her, saying it was cheap and would look good in the dining room. Of course, he had won, and that night, he slept in the bed with her again. (She always kicked him out and onto the couch when they fought.) She thought it was a silly thing to fight over, a month after the table was put in and it had begun to grow on her. It really did look good, and they�d had money to buy Angela a new bike. But that was six years ago, and now, they never argued.
She brought the cup up to her lips to find it empty. She looked at it, surprised at how fast she�d drank the coffee and stood up to wash it. As she put her hand on the faucet to turn it on, she jerked slightly, a memory jolting to her mind.
�Daddy? Can I-�
�Shush Angela, Daddy and Mommy are discussing something. I don�t care, Monica, this one�s good. It�s stainless steel and its cheap!� Mike gestured towards the faucet in question.
�I just don�t see why we need a new one. Ours is perfectly fine!� Monica stood with her hands on her hips, staring at her husband.
�Daddy! I need to go-� Angela pleaded again.
�Honey, be quiet!� Mike said glancing down at his ten year old child. He watched, satisfied, when she walked off and into another aisle. �Look, Mon, this one is only forty dollars! If we get the one your want, we�ll be losing seventy bucks! Don�t be selfish, dear.� He said, struggling to not make a scene.
�Self... selfish! Your one the thinking only of money! Look at this thing! If you barely hit it, it dents!� She retorted, a demonstrated but tapping the metal with her knuckles. Sure enough the soft material bent beneath her hand.
�All you have to do is put a coating on it and it will be fine!� Mike replied, getting annoying and failing to keep control of his composure.
�A coating? You�d have to bathe it in it-� She stopped and looked around. �Where�s Angela?� She turned completely, then walked down the aisle.
�Angela! She was right here-� He said, pointing to the spot his daughter previously occupied. �Crap. Angela! Angela, come HERE! Angela!!� He said, walking rapidly around the area.
�This is your fault, Mike! If you hadn�t been ignoring her, she wouldn�t have run off! You should�ve-� She stopped and gasped. �Angela! What are you doing under there?� She got down on her hands and knees beside a lawn mower and looked underneath. She grabbed Angela�s arms and pulled her out.
�Oh, thank God!� Mike cried, relieved, then, when he remembered she was supposed to be disciplined, he grabbed her arm roughly and she cried out. �Don�t you ever do that again, do you hear me?� He asked, thunderously, shaking her. �Don�t EVER scare your dad like that!� He emphasized by shaking her harder.
�Mike! Stop, you�re hurting her!� Monica grabbed her crying daughter and hugged her.
That was the first and only time Mike had hurt Angela. After that, he treated her like a new born, and never toughed her harder than what would have cracked an egg.
�Mom? Are you down here?� Angela stepped cautiously from the stairs and tightened her robe around herself. This wasn�t the first time she�d found her mother up, late at night, sitting at the table, and staring at nothing. Lately, her mother�s actions had caused her to worry. Her doctor said it was just side effects from... and that they would pass, but Angela wasn�t so sure.
�Yeah, honey, I�m down here. Why don�t you join me?� She asked casually, knowing her daughter would anyway. She never left her alone any more, and she didn�t know why.
�Okay.� Angela stepped into the light above the kitchen table and noticed the dark shadows under her mother�s eyes. �What are you doing down here, Mother?� She asked, sitting down at the table.
�Oh, just thinking.� She set a cup of coffee down in front of her daughter and sat down across from her.
Angela sipped the drink and noticed it was how her father had taken it. �What about?�
�You know, you, your dad, us. The usual stuff.� She said, looking out the window.
Angela nodded and wrapped her hands around the warmth of the mug, staring at her mother. She lost a lot of weight since... then and she acted differently, more spacey.
�Your dad should be home soon, so you�d better go up to bed.� Monica said, still staring out the window.
Angela swallowed, set her cup down and looked intensely at her mother. �Mom... don�t start that.� She pleaded.
�Now, start what? You know your father doesn�t like it when you�re up this late.�
Angela stared at her mother as a tear slipped down her cheek. �Mom, you know he�s... he�s...� Her voice cracked and she stopped.
�He�s what? Honey, what are you talking about?� Monica looked away from the window finally and at her daughter, concerned.
�Don�t do this to yourself, mother! You can�t stop what happened! You can�t make the accident so it never happened! You have to stop. It�s insane, and it�s scaring me.�
Monica stared at her daughter. What on earth was she talking about? �Honey, what can�t I keep doing? You�re not making any sense.�
Angela stood up, tears flooding from her red-rimmed eyes. �You can�t keep pretending he�s not dead, Mom.� She cried and fled up the stairs into her room, where she slammed her door.