Finding The Goddess In Me

Jane was in a state of shock as she drove home. Her thoughts were in a blur since forty-five minutes ago when she had learned that she had to be let go off work because of “organizational restructuring”, as they called it. Jane knew what that meant. The company was struggling for a while now to find a way to weather the economic downsizing that could be felt everywhere these days; however, she was still bitter. Her self-preservation instincts had taken over and she found it hard to be understanding of the whole situation. It had taken all of thirty minutes for her to pack up eight years of time spent in her little cubicle, and now she was driving home without any hope that she would ever be back there again.
The only thing she was thankful about was the fact that it was still relatively early morning. That meant that Brandon would be at work, and she had about six hours to spend alone, to think this through and calm down before she had to explain the whole thing to her husband of five years. Jane had no idea how he would react. Something told her he would be upset, and not just about the regretful situation, as it would be expected, but with her. In the past year alone, they had become too distant. Sometimes she felt she didn’t know him anymore. Still, she hoped it was all due to their busy lifestyle; burden they had both accepted to live with when they decided to join Brandon’s fancy executive social circles. She thought that once they got used to it or the stress for the sake of making appearances wore off, they would be happy again.
Jane pulled up into the drive way of their two-storey home. Although she turned off the ignition, she still couldn’t get out of the car. The sun was shining bright, and on any other day Jane would have wished to be free to go outside and enjoy it for once instead of being trapped in her cubicle during most hours of daylight. How ironic, she thought. The sun had no appeal to her at that moment; if anything, it irritated her with its brightness. The whole moment was just wrong.
With a heavy sigh she finally opened the door of her car and got out carrying a medium sized box which was filled with her personal knick-knacks from the office. She was glad again that Brandon was at work, so she could empty the box and disperse the contents of it throughout the house. He would never even notice.
Her steps hurried once she realized that even if Brandon wasn’t home, some of her neighbors might be, and no one would mistake what her appearance in the middle of the morning with the open plain brown box would mean. Her eyes immediately fell to the bright yellow brick of the Harper house beside theirs. Mary Harper was a house wife, or a house diva, Jane snorted out loud at the thought and smirked. Nothing could escape that woman – she knew anything and everything. I wouldn’t be surprised she knew I would be let go before me, Jane’s eyes glazed over with disgust as she reached her door and unlocked the front door.
The house was quiet and it soothed her. She dropped the box on the kitchen counter and threw her jacket and handbag over it. There was no hurry to get rid of the evidence yet. I need a drink, she thought and moved to the long cupboard where they housed a wide spread of alcoholic beverages. Entertaining paid off, she smirked again and picked up a bottle of something strong.
“Jane!?” a male voice suddenly called from upstairs.
Jane froze, almost dropping the bottle of whisky she picked up.
“Brandon???” she said to herself, not sure if the sound carried enough for him to hear.
“Jane, is that you?” Brandon’s voice was urgent.
What is he doing at home?? “Yeah, it’s me Brandon!” she called finally.
It took Jane a second to notice that he would probably be wondering why she wasn’t on her way to see him upstairs. She pushed the whisky bottle back in the cupboard and turned to the box on the kitchen counter. Crap, crap, crap! She picked up the box with her jacket and handbag and looked around her to see where she could stash it. Laundry room was the closest thing open to her where Brandon possibly wouldn’t be going in any time soon. She almost threw the box on the washer and shut the door of the laundry room on her way out.
“Jane?!” Brandon called again.
“I am coming, Brandon!” she shouted, walking to the stairs that led to the second floor.
“NO!” his voice shot up by two octaves. “I am coming down in a sec.”
Jane stopped by the bottom of the stairs and almost exhaled loudly with relief of having a couple of more seconds to herself. How would she explain what she was doing home this early in the day to him? Should she lie to gain more time, or should she tell him the truth right away?
She returned to the kitchen listening intently for his approaching steps. So far he was still upstairs, she could hear him going into the bathroom and exiting and moving around their bedroom probably. Oh, man, of all days for him to be home in the morning! How many times have I daydreamed of us meeting up at home for lunch and having a quickie or something, she smiled to herself nervously. This whole day is messing with me, she thought.
Jane finally heard him on the stairs as he came down.
“What are you doing at home?” he asked appearing behind the wall.
Jane noticed his brows were furrowed in agitation as his eyes bored into her.
Definitely lie.
“I didn’t feel good when I got to work this morning.” Her hand flew to her abdomen instinctively. “I had cramps whole morning and I am feeling a little nauseous…It’s probably some virus or something, or something I ate…” Jane bent slightly over her hand at her abdomen, hoping she looked as sick, as she was trying to be. “I asked Bill to take over my projects so I can go home for the day.” She almost finished the last statement with the question. She had no idea if she sounded believable.
Jane peaked at Brandon under her lashes to see his reaction to her lies. She couldn’t read his face at all.
“Oh…” was all he said.
“What…what are you doing home at this hour?” Jane asked finally, as if the thought just occurred to her. Her hand was still at her abdomen, and she tried to make her voice sound as weak as possible.
Brandon shifted nervously but straightened back in the same second. “I spilled coffee on my shirt at the office. I had an hour between meetings, so I thought I would come home and change before I have to go back into town to see a client,” he said and shifted his eyes from her pulling on the sleeves of his new shirt.
“Oh…” was all she said too.
Both of them stood silently for a minute facing each other. Jane noticed that something was just ‘off’ with him, but didn’t dare ask at the moment as she just wanted him gone from the house until she had time to think.
“Um…I think I’ll go to bed now. I am really not feeling that well.” She said and stepped in the direction of the stairs.
“No!” he shouted. Jane almost jumped at the sounds of his voice, as her wide eyes darted to him.
What?
“I mean, don’t go upstairs yet…I have some time…Why don’t you lay down here in the living room, while I make you some tea?” Brandon smiled and his face warmed up in a weird grimace.
Whatever was wrong with him, Jane wouldn’t object. He was obviously worried about her, and she felt even guiltier about lying to him at the moment.
She moved to the couch then and sat lifting her legs up too. Brandon moved fast around the kitchen to put some water in the kettle to boil, and looked for the mug at the same time. He turned to her again, “I am going upstairs to bring you a blanket or something,” he said and darted to the stairs. Jane wanted to call after him to tell him that there was a blanket over the couch she could use, but he was already gone up the stairs.
She started after him for a while thinking how this day is getting weirder by each passing second.
The kettle started whistling after a while, and Brandon was still not back. Jane got up to make it stop as the sound was just piercing her ears. She wondered if she should let him pour the hot water in her mug, just to let him feel as if he’s done something for her like he wanted to, but she was already up, it just wouldn’t make any sense. Does anything make any sense today; she smirked at her inner remark, darting back to the couch before he could come back.
Shit, I forgot the mug. Oh, he would get it…whatever!
Jane sighed and stared back at the stairs again. What the heck is taking him so long? Did he even hear the kettle?
Jane suddenly felt like she was in some play and the actors were all wrong on the stage searching for their right places. She could still hear him walking around upstairs. His steps were heavy and too hurried and irrational for her to gather what he could be doing. If she didn’t know any better she would think he was cleaning up or moving the furniture around, but she knew their house was always spotless and mess-free as neither of them needed cleaning after.
“Brandon! You can find some spare blankets in our linen closet, top shelf!” she decided to shout out to help him maybe.
There was no answer.
Jane got up and approached the stairs as if she were afraid she would be found out from leaving her designated spot. She saw his figure then at the top of the stairs, but his face was turned still to their bedroom door as if he was looking at someone else and pleading with his eyes – communicating without words. Jane turned to go back to her spot on the couch before he would see her, but an unmistakable sound of their bedroom door closing froze her in place.
It just didn’t make sense. Brandon was still at the top of the stairs. He was nowhere near the door to close them. So who did?
“Brandon?” she looked at him with dumb expression on her face.
Brandon froze at the sound of her voice below, noticing for the first time that she was standing just at the bottom of the stairs. He carried a light blue blanket in his hands which dragged on the floor behind him.
“What was that??” Jane asked, anxiety coloring her voice. “Is somebody in our bedroom?”
Brandon took a step down still dragging a blanket behind him, but stopped again.
“No, no..it’s probably just a draft – I opened the window to air the bedroom.” He blurted, words overlapping and scrambling in his misplaced voice. She understood all of his words, but his eyes were so frantic that the two just didn’t match. His frozen figure was all wrong on the stairs, darting to her and then back to the bedroom door.
“Brandon, who is in our bedroom?” Jane’s voice was sure this time.
“No one, Jane, I told you already.” He was getting mad. “Go back to the couch; I will get you the tea.”
The words all sounded right again, but he was just wrong, frozen on the stairs, his eyes boring into her as they did earlier in the kitchen.
Jane climbed the stairs to him, wanting to pass him by to check the bedroom herself. He backed up to the top of the stairs as she approached, as if guarding the passage.
“I am going to look, Brandon. Please move.” She said.
“No, Jane, there’s nothing. Don’t you believe me?” he asked still glaring at her. She probably would, if his eyes were not frantic still. He wore the look of a crazy man and he scared her.
“What’s wrong, Brandon? Something is wrong!” she almost shouted the last word, and moved to pass him.
“No, Jane!” he yelled and grabbed her by her shoulders, backing her to the wall of the hallway, blanket falling on the floor by them.
Jane’s eyes flew wide with shock of the movement. His grip on her didn’t exactly hurt her, but the whole action just terrified her.
“What ‘s in the damn room, Brandon?!” Jane didn’t know if that question even made it past her lips, but the way he looked at her assured her it did.
The second of silence was deafening between them. Frantic glare in his eyes wore off replaced with a desperate pleading, “God, Jane! Can’t you just leave it alone?!”
“Brandon, what is wrong?” Jane’s voice was trembling as she saw him breaking in front of her.
He released his hands from her, dropping them to his side. “We have to talk, Jane.”
The way he looked at her then, she thought he must know she was let go or something. The dread of the situation reminded her of the feel of her morning. But he couldn’t know, something else is wrong…so wrong.
“Ok…say it then.” She said blankly.
“Can we go downstairs now?” His eyes were still pleading.
She glanced to the bedroom door again, “No, tell me!” Whatever it was, she couldn’t make her legs move downstairs anymore. She wanted to know what it was behind that door that he was guarding so desperately.
He let out a sigh, covering his face with his hands.
“For God’s sakes, Brandon, what is behind that door?” Jane couldn’t take the anxiety any more.
“It’s another woman!” Brandon yelled back at her, his hands dropping again. “Damn it, Jane! Are you happy now?!”
What a stupid question.
“Another woman?” Jane asked, deciding she sounded dumb. “But…how…who…where…who??” She just couldn’t find it in herself to make out a sentence.
“Does it matter, Jane?” His every word was laced with sarcasm.
Jane stared back at him, not even hearing him. She looked back to the bedroom door and moved towards them. He didn’t try to stop her this time, although his whole body flinched in her direction.
She placed her hand on the knob and opened the door, closing her eyes at first until she felt the door was open enough for her to see what was inside.
Familiar female figure stood by the foot of the bed, holding onto one of the posts of her four-post bed. Her bleached blond hair was a mess, and her shirt was sticking out of her tight jeans. Frantic look of her wide blue eyes matched Brandon’s from a moment ago.
“Mary Harper.” It was a statement. Jane was surprised by the even tone of her voice. She tried desperately to find some kind of emotion in her, but she found nothing. She was numb all over.
“I…I am so sorry, Jane…I didn’t….I really…” Mary’s voice was shrill with panic.
“Get out!” Jane’s voice was even.
“But…”
“GET OUT!” Jane shouted now.
Mary darted from the bedroom squeezing by Jane so as not to risk touching her at all.
Jane did not turn around to see her pass Brandon, or go down the stairs. Her eyes were glued to their bed, whose sheets were crumpled under the big comforter which tried to hide the evidence. Once she heard the front door closing, she turned around to face him.
“In our bed, Brandon?... Really?” Her every word seeped with poison and betrayal.
“It’s not what you think, Jane” he said simply.
“How would you know what I am thinking, Brandon?”
He shrugged, “I don’t.”
“Then what the hell are you talking about?” Jane felt like she was losing her mind and all the words were superfluous. There was no point in anything anymore.
“What did you think, Brandon? That you could just keep me downstairs with the pretense of your worry towards me…making me tea, “ she spit the words out with disgust, “lying to me and hoping I would not hear a thing while you get the whore out?!”
“I didn’t think, Jane.” His voice was irritated about having to explain everything already. “I didn’t plan to cheat on you….I came home to change as I told you…but she was there, in front of her house…I didn’t…this was our first time.” He exhaled the words with exhaustion. Jane didn’t need him to fill the gaps, she knew what he meant.
“Does it really matter, Brandon?...First time or not, you slept with her! You cheated on me!” Jane didn’t even notice that her eyes were filled with tears until just that second when they began to spill over.
Brandon flinched again as if to move towards her, but decided to stay in his place.
“I think you should go.” Jane said.
“No, Jane, we need to talk about this…”
She interrupted him before he could finish his sentence, “I lost my job, Brandon.” Jane looked for his reaction. He just looked at her dumbfounded.
“I found out this morning, and that’s why I am here…only to find that I lost my husband too, it seems.” She was talking to herself, not caring if he listened or heard, or anything.
“So, you…”
“What? Lied?” she interrupted him again. “Really, Brandon? Are we tit for tat now?” she glared at him.
“We still need to talk, Jane.” He said.
“Go back to work…I can’t…” She didn’t know what she wanted to say.
He made a step towards her finally breaking their long stance, “Listen, Jane. I will go back to work, give you time to think, get out of your way, whatever…When I come back tonight, we can talk. Please!” he pleaded her.
“Go…” Jane couldn’t look him in the eyes.
“Promise me, Jane. We will talk tonight…” his arm stretched as if he wanted to put his arm on her shoulder, but brought it back when she flinched backwards.
I don’t owe you any promises, you bastard! She thought, but didn’t say anything; at least she didn’t think she did.
“Just go…” she said, and he finally listened. Brandon turned and walked down the stairs still looking at her, his eyes pleading with unspoken words.
Jane stood in front of their bedroom door still, afraid to move; afraid to break whatever was holding her in pieces.