I started my period early. I have no clean jeans. I only have two pairs, and with this unforeseen incident, they’re both in the wash. I’m wearing a skirt and pantyhose. It’s awkward, and uncomfortable in the cold. It’s shopping day. He now gives me twenty-five dollars but the food list pretty well remains the same. When I get back, I wash out my jeans and the rest of the laundry. I was using the washer and dryer next door and that was a blessing…up until he boarded up the basement door. So I’m back to doing the laundry by hand, in the tub. The trade off is, I can’t be locked up in the basement anymore. He’ll have to think up something else.
He comes home and he keeps looking at my legs. I have good legs. When I did inventory at the store, Michael and Lawrence kept making me blush with their “you would make a great centerfold from the waist down” backhanded compliments. I could be the whole package when I get some boobs. It made me laugh so much. They made me feel good about me. Now my husband is looking at me like he’s never seen my legs before. He asks if I’ve been to the supermarket and I say yes. He made the rules and I’ve been following them very closely. I don’t understand. Then he asks me if I wore that skirt. Now the flags go up.
I explain about my period, the mucked up jeans and that I really didn’t want to get into trouble with him for not doing what I’m suppose to do. I have these little flutters in my belly. All my senses are screaming that hell is coming but I don’t know why or how. He has his dinner and I finish off my duties for the night. I go into the bathroom and I just finish taking off the annoying pantyhose when he calls for me. The flutters turn into cramping. And it’s not my period causing them either. I tell him to hang on. I wash my face, take some deep breaths. You can do this…don’t let him do anything to you…you can do it…“Neoma! Get out here!” he barks. I wish I could learn to control the shaky legs.
He’s sitting on the sofa and he’s got a kitchen chair pulled up in front of him. He tells me to sit down and keep him company. What in the word…My heart flutters now. I sit and watch him, trying to figure out what he’s up to. I even smile my fake “what in hell is going on” smile. He’s enjoying his after dinner cigarette and blowing perfect smoke rings. “Did you go out there in that little skirt?” he asks again. I try to tell him once more about the jeans. He barks at me that I could have waited until tomorrow, when my jeans were clean, instead of being out there showing my ass to the world. There’s no point in telling him, that if I’d done exactly that, I’d still be sitting here trying to defend myself with the exact same argument.
He blows another perfect set of smoke rings and he makes a comment on how perfect the rings are and I take my eyes off him for a few seconds to watch the rings go up and around like little smoke wheels, fading to nothing…My whole body suddenly screams in agony as he puts out his cigarette…on my knee…I jump up and he brands me again…on the other knee…
Next -> In the Absence of Light
Tags: boobs, centerfold, pantyhose, smoke rings