By: Lorelei Valkenburg
Is this the right time to tell him? Mira thought as she looked over at Justin. He sat staring vacantly out the window, watching the rain.
“Let’s go to the park in the rain. We used to love watching the ducks excitedly splash around the lake,” he trailed off, trying to remember the last time the couple had gone.
Oh boy, here we go. “Actually, I just ordered Chinese,” Mira replied, spinning her long chestnut hair.
Justin looked over to her sitting in their little apartment kitchen at the table. “Why not go out to eat?”“I just felt like eating in.” Mira stopped the nervous twirling and pretended to look excited by the prospect of staying home. And because every time we leave the house, you end up freaking out that people are ignoring you.
“Why? I feel like we haven’t left the apartment in ages.” He looked closer at Mira and saw she was dressed up in a nice blouse and blue slacks. “Oh, but you went to work today?” Justin knotted his forehead in confusion.
“Yeah honey, I just got back a little bit ago, remember? And we went out to Indian food last week.” Mira got up and opened the fridge, grabbing a cold knockoff soda called Dr. Peppy. She had to look away from him as she remembered the fiasco that Indian food had been. Justin made it through the buffet line just fine, managing not to bump into anyone, but when he sat down Mira had a heaping plate of food ready in front of him. Then he tried to get the waitress’s attention, deciding that he needed a mango lassie. She ignored him. Justin waved his arms, getting angry. The waitress scanned her tables and continued to ignore Justin. Then, Mira jumped in and ordered it for him, but that just made him more flustered and angrier when the waitress responded to her. She came up to the table with the drink and Justin tried to confront her.
“Listen here.” He looked at her name tag and sneered, “Linda. Just because you are into women, and apparently my wife, doesn’t mean you can just–” He seemed to deflate. Linda had just walked off to refill another table’s water, speaking sweetly to both the gentleman and his companion. Justin eyed her suspiciously and whispered, “What the hell is going on here?”
“Sigh…Well you see, honey…” What’s the definition of insanity again? Trying the same thing over and over, expecting a different result?
Ding. “Oh, that must be the door. I’ll get it,” Mira sang cheerfully, jerking out of her reverie and rushing to the door.
Justin could be heard trying to protest in the other room. “I was going to pay, what are you hurrying for?”
“I already paid when I called,” Mira singsonged back at him. She handed the delivery guy a twenty-dollar bill as she put a finger over her lips. The delivery guy smiled and took the generous tip without complaint, handing Mira the food. “Bye, thanks for being so quick to get here!” Mira closed the door smiling and pranced into the living room, setting the bag on the coffee table and shuffling containers around.
Justin eyed her wearily. “Just because we are married, and my money is your money, doesn’t mean it isn’t still nice when I can feel like the provider.”
“Oh, shush you. Wow, you ate so much! Aren’t you full?” Mira motioned to an empty carton. His mood stays more stable if he’s told what should have happened.
Justin wrinkled his once handsome face again. “I don’t remember taking a bite.”
“Well, you did.”
“Well…okay.”
“So, honey,” Mira began nervously, “the reason your whole timeline doesn’t make sense, and everyone ignores you…” Justin cocked his head sideways quizzically. So forgetful. “Sweetie…” Mira tried to keep his focus. “It’s because you died. A while ago actually. I…” Justin clutched his chest and began to convulse wildly.
…killed you,
Justin.
His eyes shut and his face twisted in pain. Too slow. He’s gone again and will have
forgotten by morning. Attempt 81 is
another failure. Justin faded away as tears rolled down Mira’s cheeks, her
emotional anguish renewed.
