Jenny dropped the empty syringe into an empty soda bottle, and screwed the cap tightly. She sighed as she looked around the small kitchen. Bright sun shone in the window, highlighting the dirty dishes in the sink.
“Lord” she sighed. “If you had to send him to me, couldn’t you have done it when I’m manic?” She looked in on Charlie, lying in her bed, surrounded by soft pink bedding. She snickered.
“Not a sight I ever expected to see, Lord”. She checked the ice bag, still cold. The bucket was clean and empty, at least the medication was holding back the nausea. A black tail hung from the edge of the bed. Jenny lifted the cover and saw bright green eyes gazing back at her. Charlie’s hand curled around the cat protectively as she shifted.
“OK, Princess, you can have him.” She glanced at Charlie again. His face, sweaty and pale, the ice bag obscuring his eyes and forehead. His hair was tangled and damp with sweat. “Are you awake?” He snored lightly. “ I guess not.”
She left the room, eying the trail of discarded clothes. Charlie had taken his shirt off the minute he’d gotten inside, so she could give him the shot. Then he’d vomited on the floor, and fallen down. She’d had to drag him to the bedroom, peeling off his filthy clothes as helped him down the hall.
To someone else, though, it probably looked as though something immoral had taken place. Or was it? After all, they were still married. Agh. Marriage was complicated!
Jenny mopped up the mess, thanking God for her simple tile floors. She gathered the clothes, thanking God for the washer and dryer. Sure, they were old, but they worked. She sighed as she remembered her first place with Charlie, riding the bus and walking a mile to the laundromat, each way, all kinds of weather, every week. So glad those days were past!
Jenny paused as she picked up Charlie’s khakis. They were filthy... but it felt wrong to empty his pockets. She flashed back to an advice column: a wife had found condoms in her husband’s pockets, doing laundry.
She went looking for a plastic bag, and began to empty the pockets. Wallet. It looked like the one she’d given him for their fifth wedding anniversary. Should she open it?
She paused. Perhaps, a better question, would she want Charlie going through her purse? No. She still had his photos, and some of the love notes he used to put in her lunch after reading that marriage book.
Jenny held the thick leather in her hand, wondering if he had any of her notes inside. She set it into the bag and moved on. Keys. She examined the key ring. House key. Mailbox. Her house key. Her mailbox (after all, he was on the deed - so she’d sent him copies of the keys), SUV key, and a few others she didn’t know. Into the bag.
She frowned as she encountered loose bills. A lot of money. What was Charlie doing? Into the bag, as wadded as she’d found them. Receipts. She didn’t even glance at them.
She sat down, in shock, as she pulled out his wedding ring. The real one - the simple gold bands they’d bought when they thought they’d love each other forever.
What was he doing with that?
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