Sight Unseen
There it was.
Lying in the corner of the silver dish on the side table next to the couch.
Right next to the ridiculously expensive dog comb she convinced Todd to buy that neither of them ever use.
No wonder she couldn't find it.
Why search the place they sit next to every day for hours on end as they stare straight ahead like zombies hypnotized by the 40 inch flatscreen.
They don't even share the couch like they used to.
Claire curls up in the lazy boy nestled under the green and red cottage throw which always smells faintly of woodsmoke and Off while Todd splays his limbs out like an Irish wolfhound in repose, engulfing the seven foot long sectional and ottoman.
They bought that piece on layaway with her bridal shower money and took four years to pay it off because every time they went by the store to put money down they walked out with some other random appliance or side table or hand dyed silk and wool mix Persian rug they couldn't afford, didn't need but felt compelled to have.
Todd hadn't even noticed it was missing.
She took it off one day while giving herself a spontaneous home manicure on the couch during a TLC marathon. Weddings from hell, I was pregnant and didn't know it, short people with triplets and garbage pickers with musical ambitions. Seven hours of mindnumbing escape.
The ring needs resizing.
She's lost more weight in the last year. Stress, hormones, three hour walks with the dog after dinner, alone.
She slid it off for safe keeping and placed it next to the vase of lucky bamboo. Lucky it's still alive. The dog knocked it over three times in the first week, breaking off the top fronds on one of the three stalks.
It had been two months and she could not remember where she put it.
She's grown used to feeling naked again. Untethered, released.
Todd was always taking his wedding ring off and on for work, forgetting it on the kitchen sink or by the bathroom ledge. They've snaked it out of the toilet twice.
They don't hold hands anymore.
She cut her hair and three weeks passed before he said anything.
Even then Claire prodded for a response.
Maybe it's the seven year itch. Maybe they're both silently giving up, inviting other people into the sacred space once vowed to each other, filling the ever increasing divide with failed attempts to be seen and well met.
There's a threat of rolling blackouts . Claire was digging around for candles.
That's when she saw it, a small perfect, white gold circle with three diamond chips set just so.
It was his mother's, a woman so small Claire referred to her as pocket sized.
Todd had it resized for the wedding but it never fit quite right.
Funny, that.
Lying in the corner of the silver dish on the side table next to the couch.
Right next to the ridiculously expensive dog comb she convinced Todd to buy that neither of them ever use.
No wonder she couldn't find it.
Why search the place they sit next to every day for hours on end as they stare straight ahead like zombies hypnotized by the 40 inch flatscreen.
They don't even share the couch like they used to.
Claire curls up in the lazy boy nestled under the green and red cottage throw which always smells faintly of woodsmoke and Off while Todd splays his limbs out like an Irish wolfhound in repose, engulfing the seven foot long sectional and ottoman.
They bought that piece on layaway with her bridal shower money and took four years to pay it off because every time they went by the store to put money down they walked out with some other random appliance or side table or hand dyed silk and wool mix Persian rug they couldn't afford, didn't need but felt compelled to have.
Todd hadn't even noticed it was missing.
She took it off one day while giving herself a spontaneous home manicure on the couch during a TLC marathon. Weddings from hell, I was pregnant and didn't know it, short people with triplets and garbage pickers with musical ambitions. Seven hours of mindnumbing escape.
The ring needs resizing.
She's lost more weight in the last year. Stress, hormones, three hour walks with the dog after dinner, alone.
She slid it off for safe keeping and placed it next to the vase of lucky bamboo. Lucky it's still alive. The dog knocked it over three times in the first week, breaking off the top fronds on one of the three stalks.
It had been two months and she could not remember where she put it.
She's grown used to feeling naked again. Untethered, released.
Todd was always taking his wedding ring off and on for work, forgetting it on the kitchen sink or by the bathroom ledge. They've snaked it out of the toilet twice.
They don't hold hands anymore.
She cut her hair and three weeks passed before he said anything.
Even then Claire prodded for a response.
Maybe it's the seven year itch. Maybe they're both silently giving up, inviting other people into the sacred space once vowed to each other, filling the ever increasing divide with failed attempts to be seen and well met.
There's a threat of rolling blackouts . Claire was digging around for candles.
That's when she saw it, a small perfect, white gold circle with three diamond chips set just so.
It was his mother's, a woman so small Claire referred to her as pocket sized.
Todd had it resized for the wedding but it never fit quite right.
Funny, that.
Comments
Post a Comment