How not wanting to cook created a book:
I enjoy cooking. When I feel like it. And although my budget does not allow the treat of eating out four times a week, this particular night I was not going to cook. With my hubby in tow, we were off to satisfy my craving for Mexican.
This particular restaurant is always busy regardless of the night. Tonight, there was a loud, large family next to us with kids giggling, siblings teasing each other, and grandma trying to follow the conversations. Across from us, two business women were out for drinks after a long day at work. Both were smiling, cupping their margarita glasses and enjoying every wasted minute of their night. In a booth beside them sat a quiet couple.
They were a couple that had been together for a while, they were beyond the flirting stage, they knew how to be comfortable in silence, and didn't feel the need to fill each moment with chatter. But the woman, it was her smile that caught my eye. She was sincere in her loving gestures, yet seemed hesitant about the conversation. After my husband and I had devoured the chips and salsa, the woman grew more awkward in her movements.
She was jittery, staring at him, trying to analyze what his eyes were telling her but his lips would not say. I wondered if they were having a "talk". You know the kind, when the one you're with says "I think we need to talk," and instantly you tense up, your heart-rate jumps 30 beats faster, and your palms start sweating. I no longer knew if I was staring, if I cared that I was staring, or what I hoped to achieve by staring at this couple.
My imagination curtsied to my surroundings; they were both eager to dance and blend both worlds together. What if he's breaking up with her? I glanced at his left hand. A dull, white gold ring hugged his ring finger, tarnished enough that they have been together a few years. Maybe he wants a divorce? She looks like she's trying to understand a joke, or maybe she's hoping something is a joke? She raised her wineglass to her lips, pausing at something he said, the glass hovering over her lips, her hand refusing to finish the task of pouring. Her freckled face went pale, or perhaps that's how I imagined it did? Now my imagination and my surroundings swirled and spun around the dance floor, dipping and twisting faster than my eyes could see. I wonder what he said to her? I thought, interrupted by reality.
"What?" I said to my husband, realizing I hadn't heard a word he said to me.
"I said I heard from Dave, it's at his house this weekend," he said, scooping a bite of burrito into his mouth.
"Oh, okay. That will be fun," I said, glancing back over to their table. Damn, where did they go? In staring at that comfortable, awkward couple, and my lack of attention to my husbands conversation; our two moments began to dance. I bet her name was Claire, she looked like a Claire.
What would happen to a woman who depended on her husband, a woman whose world revolved around him, and he said he wanted a divorce? I let my mind envelope the I wonder moment, and Claire's story began coming to life. Read more about her journey here.