10

Laughing at something Chris has said, we head towards the part of town where the furniture stores are.

The house is really coming together now, with Chris and I tweaking my dream designs into something we could achieve. It mostly looks as we planned, albeit perhaps not as professionally executed as we’d hoped or expected. We’ve both been learning a great deal, though, about each other, and about building. Right now, we get to reward ourselves for all our hard work on the living room by finally buying a new couch. I can’t afford something expensive, but I hope I can purchase something comfortable and remotely stylish.

Pulling up outside the furniture warehouse, I look up the road and gasp as I see Wednesday getting out a little red sportscar in front of the town’s only designer furniture gallery.

“You can’t be serious,” I snap as the lights flash on the cherry red sports car. It’s the kind you expect a middle-aged man having a mid-life crisis to drive, only this one has the number plate, ‘Tinkerbell.’

“What is it?” Chris frowns.

“Wednesday has a sports car. He’s bought her a fucking sports car!”

“I thought her name was Wendy.”

“It is, but she looks so much like Wednesday from the Adams family movies that I can’t call her anything different. She’s like a cross between a goth and a whorish vampire intent on sucking the life out of marriages.”

I look to the sky, willing a bolt of lightning to shoot down and incinerate her on the spot before she can enter the store. But no luck.

Chris laughs.

“Do you want a sports car, Merri?”

“No,” I scowl. “But our accounts are still in joint names. My earnings and James’ are still combined. It’s crazy he would pull out an expense like this without at least checking with me. He’s usually beyond frugal.”

Chris says nothing as I continue my rant.

“I mean, shit. For the past three weeks I’ve been careful with every cent I’ve spent on the house. And yet here he is splashing out on a car for his lover!”

“Don’t people normally split their accounts when they’re no longer together?” Chris asks quietly.

I grit my teeth. Yes, he’s right, they do. And I suppose we should have. It was one more thing I just hadn’t got around to facing. Or perhaps, deep down, didn’t want to face.

“We’re not divorced yet,” I murmur, “just separated.”

He says nothing, and the silence, although I don’t know why, begins to feel uncomfortable.

“C’mon,” I sigh, “let’s go look at couches.”

“Let’s go in there,” Chris grins, pointing to the store Wednesday is just leaving.

“I can’t afford anything from there,” I shake my head. “It’s mostly leather — designer leather.”

“And yet,” he smirks, “you have joint accounts….”

I snort and don’t resist as he takes my hand and pulls me into the store.

But the moment I enter, I regret it.

“Merri!” The woman behind the counter shouts, grinning from ear to ear. It’s been too long.”

“Janice,” I paste on a smile. “It has, hasn’t it.”

‘By design, you vacuous Barbie dumbass.’

“And who do we have here?”

I take a deep breath and wonder what Chris is going to say today. Over the past weeks I’ve learned he has an imaginative answer for every question he’s been asked by people in this town, and often a hilarious one.

“I’m Merri’s designer,” he says now, straight-faced.

“Great,” Janice smiles a quick little confused smile. “And, oh, wait, I know exactly why you’re here, Merri. But you needn’t have bothered, James sent his secretary over to confirm the shipment had arrived. Why, she just left a minute or two ago.”

“Did she?”

“Yes, but while you’re here I’ll just double-check that I have the delivery date and address correct. Wendy was in such a hurry I plain forgot. I was going to call and confirm just now, but here you are.”

“Here I am,” I murmur, wondering how this woman doesn’t know that James and I are separated, given that it seems everyone else in this goddamned town does.

She prattles on, oblivious to my scowl.

“So, delivery will be 4.30, and the address, I mean I know you guys have lived there forever, but best to dot the i’s and cross the t’s,” she laughs, “sixteen Cherrywood Lane.”

I open my mouth to say that this is not where James lives now, but Chris squeezes my hand.

“Perfect, Janice,” he says with a broad grin. “Would you mind if I just take a quick look at the order? I’d really like to ensure the colour is exactly as I imagine for the ambience I’m looking for with this design.”

“Of course,” Janice says, eyes wide as Chris gives her his most charming smile.

I follow behind, shaking my head, but try to hold back my shock as she directs us to a gorgeously sumptuous white leather couch with a matching square ottoman. It’s the most beautiful thing, and I sigh in pleasure as I sink down into its comfortable cushions, feeling supported and enveloped at the same time.

“Perfect. We look forward to the delivery, Janice,” Chris smirks, “don’t we, Merri?”

I look up at him and grin.

“We sure do.”