Connected

I suppressed a laugh. Only late twentysomethings remember when it was cool to pronounce it ‘par-tay’. No need to point out the fact that we were nearly too old to hit the clubs.

 

Two guys standing at the tiki bar turned to stare at Lisa as she stepped out of the water. She reminded me of a super model as she brushed her long brown hair away from her eyes. I met Lisa soon after she found out she was pregnant with her second son. I thought she was the most beautiful pregnant woman I had ever seen. However, Lisa’s sweet disposition far outweighed her attractiveness. Like the fair-complexioned cartoon princess, I could almost picture the birds singing to her while they helped her fold the laundry at home. Unaware of the caliber of her beauty, she never seemed to notice when other men were checking her out. She had been happily married to her high school sweetheart for almost seven years.

 

I chuckled under my breath while I watched the two beefcake rubbernecks at the tiki bar gawk at her over their mirrored aviator sunglasses.

 

“Ok, let’s go,” I replied before I gulped the rest of my drink.

 

The other girls were toweling off and grabbing their bags to head upstairs to the condo. I looked around my mini-paradise, content with my surroundings. The palm trees swayed against the warm breeze, while the seagulls flew overhead searching for their next meal. The stark white sand glistened for miles under the hot sun, while the swells of the ocean waves toppled against the shore. For the first time I felt a freedom I had not experienced in a long time.

 

I left my single life of drinking and dancing behind the day I found out I was pregnant with Eli. Michael and I had no plans of marriage until we saw those two pink lines on that cold November morning. I had set my future of becoming a pediatric psychologist aside while I made arrangements to become a stay-at-home mom. My entire life seemed to have been on hold the last five years. I quickly learned that being a stay-at-home mom was not all picnics and play dates. I felt trapped under the interminable mountain of laundry, amid the infinite overflow of dirty dishes, by the everlasting song of the purple dinosaur, and with the incessant whine of a tired and cranky child. I could not remember the last time I had enjoyed a night out. I was actually looking forward to it.

 

I assumed Michael and Eli were just sitting down for dinner at Burger Land. Michael, the staunch and successful CPA at a prosperous accounting firm, was much too busy to cook while I was away. He almost balked at the idea of my weekend escape.

 

 

 

 

 

“Kaitlyn, I just can’t afford for you to leave right now. I need to go into work in the coming weekends to prepare for several big upcoming meetings. Work is just more important than some silly girls retreat right now.”

 

“That’s the problem, Michael. Your work. Our lives revolve around your work. You always put your work before your family.”

 

“My work pays the bills! Last time I checked, dishes and laundry don’t pay the bills.”

 

“That’s just it, Michael. Dishes and laundry don’t pay the bills, nor do they create a fulfilling life! I’m worth more than just being slave for this family! Do you know how depressing it is when your daily goal in life is to sweep up Goldfish off the floor and dig rocks out of pants pockets before throwing them in the washing machine? I feel like I’m in solitary confinement most of the time. And then my husband comes home and carries his plate of supper into his office only to disappear for hours on end, coming to bed well after I’ve gone to sleep. That happens so often these days that sex is not even in our vocabulary anymore. I’ve spent the last five years in this unfulfilling life, wiping asses and noses, sweeping crumbs off the floor, and passing a practically nonexistent husband occasionally in the hallway!”

 

Five years of pent up frustration barreled its way out of me in harsh tones and salty tears.

 

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