Toms

     Another dreary day, but I had to get out of the apartment. Being confined to a 1,500 sq. foot box all day besides my shopping outings gets tiring. The kids probably need it too. I can't imagine what it must be like for them to move to such a horrid place like this in the middle of their schooling. The kids and I told Maria we would be back in a few and to put clean sheets on my bed. We strolled down Magnolia Drive, getting turned around a few times until we reached Alice's diner. After all, I haven't stepped foot in this town besides getting in and out of my car to go to the larger neighboring cities. Goddamnit, I thought, why couldn't have Jake been relocated to one of those cities, at least they have a Whole Foods for Christ sake.

     I held the door open for the kids as we walked into the diner. The first thing I noticed was the torn up leather booths, dusty checkered floors and ketchup squeeze bottles on the table. Like if you want to be vintage try something a little more original. We were seated next to a round booth with the oddest group of people. They wouldn't stop whispering and tilting their heads low to talk, I could hear them smacking their french fries over their conversations. Someone obviously didn't grow up going to cotillion.

     I left the kids to order me an iced water with lemon as I went to freshen up at the restroom. In the far left corner, I see Jake... at a metal table, with some lady... wearing Toms. You have to be kidding me. I don't even let my daughter wear Toms, and she's 10.  Confused, I walk over to the table, grazing over my husband, and reaching out to hand to this lady. "Oh, how wonderful! I see Jake is making new friends in town, isn't that great!" I sarcastically snark. "Amanda this is Suzy..." Jake begins to say until I interrupt him to fakely compliment Suzy's shoes. She thanks me as I swirl around in my Prada stilettos. I grab the kids and we storm out of the diner that wrenches of rotten potatoes and middle-aged women wearing awkward middle schooler shoes.

Lavender

I lay in bed reflecting my day as usual. Today after

Maria drove the kids and me to the nearest French bistro

and boutiques an hour outside of town. She mentioned an

incidence in town. I hushed her before she could get too

deep and scare the kids half to death, but I couldn’t help to

think what she was talking about. I was restless this night,

my mind flowing with thoughts.

----
I woke up thrilled for a new day in the fabulous Maitland.

Ha. I walked into the bathroom rubbing my eyes, but still

seeing my chest length blonde hair curled from the night before.

I washed my face and moisturized with my Laura Mercier

flawless skin tone perfecting créme. I popped my contacts in my

ocean blue eyes and went to the kitchen where Maria handed

me a freshly brewed Starbucks French roast with two stevias

and a splash of coconut milk. I discreetly glanced to make sure

the kids weren’t around and asked Maria, “what was that little

incidence you mentioned?” She sat me down at the island and

explained.

Basically, a semi-native citizen, Mr. Evans, had died a few

days prior. The entire town was extremely shaken up, not me of

course. I didn’t get it. I know it’s not sunshine and rainbows but

everyone dies and goes to a better place. Everything happens for

a reason, and we can’t get caught up in every little mishap.

Jake finally came home from his long day of work. It felt as if

Maria replaced him as my partner because nowadays I only see

him as he curls up in bed next to me late at night. I had just put on

my lavender eye mask as he came in humming “you can go and

blame it on the simple twist of fate.” At first, I ignored him, per usual

but something didn’t seem right this time. He continued to hum these

damn lyrics so I couldn't help but say “Jake. I. Am. Sleeping. Will you

please stop singing.” He promptly stopped and said under his breath,

“you should have gone to the concert with me tonight.” Having no idea

what he was talking about, I closed my eyes and deeply inhaled the

potent lavender scent from my eye mask.