The Happy Housewife
Short Story
by April Griffin
Kayla continued washing walls. At 30 and after 4 kids she
still looked attractive. Brown hair spilling down her back. While she put
on a little weight since the day she was married it went to the right
places and she carried it well. As she scrubbed she ignored the ever
present pain in her back. She wondered where she had gone wrong. Adding
elbow grease, without even noticing, to get the crayola off. Her mind was
lost in the painful journey she found it taking so much these days.
Her tired eyes gave no hint of where her thoughts were going. The inner
sorrow hid along with an occasional hint of hope. She no longer dreamed
of leaving, having resigned herself to the responsibilities she took
on. She had long since joined the secret club of women who live life
through romance novels and soap operas because they had decided that they
would make it work even though they knew their was no love left. The
women who sleep in different bedrooms than their husbands. The women who
wear dark sunglasses until the years had mellowed out hubbies temper or
he simply got so bored with her he couldn't be bothered. The wives who
have their husbands find call girls or keep a lady in an apartment
across town so they will leave them alone. The ones who nip the cooking
sherry after breakfast and whiten their coffee with Baileys hidden in the
back of a cupboard. The secret club of the happy housewives each coping
in their own ways.
She didn't have the luxury of a separate bedroom and she didn't have
the courage to ask him to seek satisfaction elsewhere. She hated having
sex with the stranger who was her husband. The man she no longer knew
yet knew all too well. Not so long ago she thought him the most amazing
man on earth. The stars themselves shone brighter because of him. Now
she felt a sick revulsion when he touched her. She had to swallow it
down. To hide it and make it through without grimaces or involuntarily
pushing him away. She wanted to love him. To find some part of the man he
used to be and cling to it. She didn't notice she had stopped scrubbing.
Wash the damn walls you lazy bitch He was going to start losing it
again if she wasn't careful but once he got in a snit it was so easy to
set him off.
She scrubbed again with a new vigor hoping to appease him. The smell
of pine cleaner burning in her nose making her dizzy. She was a fireball
once. Full of dreams and ideas and not one to take crap from any man.
She wondered how she got so meek. Why she let it happen. Why she didn't
leave long ago before it went so far. She could hear him ranting to
himself. He would blow up soon. She felt the pain dig into her back. A
constant reminder of the last time. At first she thought the pain was in
her kidneys but after a few days she knew it was her back. She wondered
if it would ever leave her or if it would be her souvenir well into the
golden years. His rage was mounting. Soon she would pay. She would pay
for the bag boy who was rude at the store. She would pay for the
co-worker who teased. She would pay for every man that dared to notice her.
She would pay because he was upset with his mother. She would pay because
the bills were too high and because the government took too much tax.
She would pay with her body and she would pay twice. When his rage was
quenched he would want her to screw him. Not make-up sex. Just screwing.
She hoped the children would stay sleeping. She didn't want them to
witness this.
The hands twisted into the hair at the back of her head and rammed her
face into the wall. You dirty little whore, blood trickled from her
nose. Her arm was pulled behind her back then with the hands still in her
hair she was flung back and turned around, flying towards the couch.
When her body made contact the couch flipped over. She scrambled to her
feet and started to run for the door but realized she couldn't leave the
children. Salty taste on her tongue. Had she bitten it or was it coming
from her nose?
Get back here you stupid bitch. Stop crying . Again her body hit a
wall she crumpled to the floor. The kicking started. Protectively she
curled into the fetal position. She bit her lip and tried not to scream.
The irony that today was their anniversary stung her. A big fat reminder
of how she got in this place. Get up! Get up! He was using her hair
to pull her up. Her feet failed her. Get up and say your sorry bitch! I
cant stop! I can t stop until you say you re sorry! Get up and say it!
Look what you re making me do! She fought for words and gagged on the
blood. She swallowed so there wouldn't be more on the floor. You
stupid bitch look what you made me do. A blow hit her stomach. She had lost
a baby that way. Fighting for air. Fighting to get the words I'm sorry
out. She knew this is what her life would be. She couldn't t leave and
she wouldn't t leave and she couldn't t hurt the children by taking her own
life. She couldn't leave them to bear this burden. She had thought of
that any times before. This was what she had to look forward to. The
happy housewife. Air filling her lungs. Gasping I'm Sorry, I'm so sorry.
She meant it
The Happy Housewife© Copyright 2004 April Griffin, printed with permission. 03/04/04
