Flash Fiction #1
The last meal before leaving a husband.
Maggie twirled the spaghetti around her fork on the plate, round and round, afraid of taking the first bite into the last meal she’d have with her husband before leaving him forever. Round and round. Over and over.
“It won’t give ya any black eyes babe, try it.” Alan’s words disgusted the other three around the table, but none let on. He snickered to himself, proud of his wit. She’d spent nearly an hour’s worth of applying makeup in the bathroom mirror before heading out that evening. It wasn’t a one-time thing with him. Ten years ago she thought, maybe, maybe it is just a phase. Maybe he’s just stressed from working so much. The promotions came, more money came, the beatings continued. It wasn’t a one-time thing, ever. And now, he’d gotten so used to it that it’d become something to joke about at dinner with the Cascellas—their only good friends.
“Well?” Alan asked. “See how you like it.” Maggie ripped a piece of bread from her loaf and tried it with her spaghetti. She chewed and nodded in approval.
Alan resumed his analysis of the stock market with Anthony Cascella. Judy smiled at her with the warmth only she could give off. Stay strong Maggie, her eyes seemed to say. Of course Judy and Anthony knew about tonight. Judy had even helped her pack everything she was going to take with her and filled the car up to the brim with brown boxes. The two had moved quickly, in and out, three hours at most. Alan had left for the afternoon to do God-knows-what and planned to meet Maggie and the Cascellas at the Grand Lux for dinner later that night.
“We’ll have dinner,” Judy had repeated to her for the twentieth time earlier that day, “and then we’ll go somewhere else for dessert. Maybe that cute yogurt shop Alan likes. We’ll take two cars. Anthony can take Alan in his new two-seater. It’ll be perfect, you’ll see. They’ll get there, and we’ll never show up.”
“How are you going to explain yourself? What about poor Anthony?” Maggie anxiously asked, pacing back and forth.
“Don’t worry about Anthony, he’s got no part in this. Me? I’ll just say I had to run back in for my purse or something and that when I came out, you were gone. Maybe you left all of us, not just him. You know?” Judy smiled.
“I…,” Maggie couldn’t keep it together, her eyes soaked over. The two women hugged, Maggie squeezing tight. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Now that the moment had come, her knees were shaking underneath the table. From fear, from anxiety. Mostly they shook from the excitement. She’d never been the type to overstep boundaries. Her own mother taught her that—and if there were any lessons she’d skipped, Alan had come along to eagerly teach. She’d been the quiet girl all her life. The good girl who didn’t cause trouble, didn’t bring home boys with pierced ears. She fell in love with the first man who’d called her “sweetheart.” Now she was married to someone with zero tattoos on his skin and constant whiskey on his breath.
“I tell ya…, if my old man were to see the type of girl I sure chained myself to…,” he’d often say, “phew…, poor guy would be rolling over in his grave. You’re lucky, you know that? He would’ve hit ya twice as hard if you were his girl.” She knew he was probably right. She knew the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree with these men. They didn’t just sprout out of the ground overnight though. They must’ve been around during her mother’s days. Why hadn’t she steered her daughter clear of something so ugly? It’d been a question Maggie had asked herself over and over throughout the years. The closest she’d ever gotten to an answer was that her mother hadn’t known how. She’d married one herself. Though Maggie’s father never laid a hand on his child, he made sure her mother knew who was in charge. That woman had all the courage in the world, all except the little bit she needed most. The little bit that Maggie was going to muster up tonight, in the next few minutes. She was going to do what her mother was never able to. What Alan’s mother was never able to. Just a few more minutes, she thought.
“Wow…,” Anthony said, patting his stomach, “I’m stuffed.” The time was here, the check was paid. “Whose sweet tooth’s acting up?” he baited.
“Oh yeah,” Alan chimed in on cue. He gulped down the last of his drink. “You can go with Judy. Anthony’s gotta show me that beautiful new machine he just bought.” Yes, I can, can’t I? Maggie looked at him, knowing everyone else’s eyes were on her. She stood up.
“You know…, it’s so beautiful outside, with the snow falling, wouldn’t you want to walk instead?” She didn’t have to look at Judy nor Anthony to know their faces lit up with shock. She felt Judy’s eyes though. Maggie quickly looked at her and saw the shock melt away into disappointment and anger. She had to do this…, just one last try. “Alan…, sweetheart, did you—”
“Beautiful?!” he shot back. “What’s so beautiful about freezing yourself stiff in this weather?! You’re getting crazier by the day, you know that?” Maggie kept a directed stare.
“Alan…, are you sure?” she asked.
“Of what, woman?!—I know you’re not deaf. No, I sure ain’t walking in the snow.” Maggie let out a sigh of relief.
“Okay babe…, if that’s what you want.” She returned Judy’s smile to her and began wrapping her scarf around her neck. As the four began walking down the stairs toward the front doors, Judy’s hand squeezed Maggie’s arm. It was warmth, strength, and love—something Maggie had almost forgotten she could feel.
