The Ability

I looked down, sighing. He picked up on my mood swing instantly. "What is it, Angel? Why did you shut down?"

"Mark doesn't want kids."

He looked outraged, before breathing deeply, calming down. "I reiterate my opinion of your husband. Now, what does Angel want? Is she willing to live in a barren desert, growing old without a chance at immortality? To die unmourned by nonexistent offspring? Can you tell me you would give up the chance to look into a granddaughter's eyes, only to your grandfather staring back, for more leisure time and a few more baubles?"

It came pouring out of me. "Of course I want children! But he doesn't? What am I to do? Sometimes when I see the things going on in this world, I think maybe it's the right choice, spare them all the grief and pain."

He looked surprised. "But Angel, that's why we bring children into this world. To fix the mistakes of the generations before, to make it just a bit better for the next generation that comes along. To lessen the grief and pain. You just have to believe it will get better."

I looked down, ashamed to look at him. I did want kids! I wanted to love and teach them, to give them values that would make me proud. But Mark was dead set against it. I'd brought up working for a few years, to give us a cushion when I had them, but he shot it down. No woman of his was working outside the home. It cost us financially, but it fit into his version of how life should be.

I came out of my thoughts when Brian asked me if I still had the card. I told him I did.

I blurted it out before I had a chance to consider my words. "Brian, if you feel so strongly about children, why don't you have any? Or a wife?"

He stiffened, the flash of pain in his eyes very real. His answer was so soft I almost didn't hear it. "I did," he said softly, "Two fine sons and a wife that walked on water as far as I was concerned. The children were eight when the accident happened. In the blink of an eye, they were gone. Know what one of the worst things that could ever happen to a parent? Outliving their children. I have to go in now, Angel. Remember the card, when the time comes."

He strode into the house, while I stood on the sidewalk, tears streaming down my face. Poor man! Now I could understand the melancholy air he had when he thought people didn't notice him.

I walked into my house, deep in thought. Brian had once again awakened feelings I had kept buried for years. Damn him for making me doubt myself!

...

Summer rolled around again. The economy was starting to affect us all, and we were feeling the strain. I brought up working again but Mark shot me down.

"You stay home, where you belong!"

I was tired of scrimping, worrying about the power and other bills. Just when I thought I was going to explode, I ran into Brian again, at the park. I went there sometimes, just to get out of the house and think. Brian was running the trails, in a pair of shorts and nothing else. He wasn't sporting a six pack, but he had very good definition. He went by me twice before he stopped to talk.

"Hello, my Angel," he said, as he walked to a bench and got towels out of his bag, wiping the sweat from his body and hair. Did he have any idea how sexy he looked right now? He didn't manscape, his natural pelt of light brown hair hair looked soft, inviting. It was all I could do to keep my hands off his chest. I wasn't the only one looking. One soccer mom almost wandered onto the field during play, looking back. Another almost let go of her dog's leash before catching herself.

I couldn't quite define what he had. There were several younger, fitter, even more attractive men there. I felt bad for them, because he almost made them disappear. None of the women saw them, they were all looking at Brian. As he began to talk, I got a few looks myself, none of them friendly. Of all the people, all the women in the park, he was talking to me! Take that, sluts!

He sat down beside me. "The kids keep asking when you're coming for ice cream again. I've told them that when the time is right, you'll be there. Now, I see you've got a lot on your mind. I don't like not seeing a smile on your face, so tell me what's bothering you."

It all came out in a rush, the money worries, his refusal to let me get a job and help, how I thought he was going back to his old ways. He listened patiently, not saying anything, until I asked him what I should do. He shrugged.

"Not my life, Angel, nor my relationship. If you want to know what I think, here it is. Your husband is a control junkie. He wants someone to obey and follow, not walk beside and share the burden. As things get worse, he's going to be more controlling, because you will be the only thing in his life he can control. When and if you challenge him, be very careful. Destroy his last bastion of power, and he may become unstable. His first instinct will be to put it back by any means necessary. If it takes slapping you around to get you back in line, so be it."

He paused, considering. "I've probably overstepped myself here. But it was said with your best interest in mind. If it were me, I'd have no problem with my wife staying home, if we could afford it. Of course, you'd have a full time job, raising the children. You'd be an excellent mother, in my opinion."

Brian actually blushed as he realized what he said.

"On the other hand, you have an innate gentleness in you, one that you can use to your advantage. People instinctively like you, and want to please you. You'd make an excellent receptionist, working your magic on clients as well as bosses judiciously, making them think whatever seed you planted in their minds is their idea, and should therefore be implemented."

"I don't know your background or educational level. You'd be an excellent caregiver in something like a daycare environment. There are probably companies out there right now who need exactly what you have."

We had drawn closer as we talked, until we were almost touching. There was something in his eyes...before I could finish the thought he pulled away. "I'm sorry Angel. I'm just rambling here, trying to help you. You may have a PhD. for all I know."

"Don't be. I finished high school with good grades, but not good enough to get a scholarship. My parents struggled to make ends meet, so I went straight into the workforce. I was a factory worker when I met Mark."

He stood abruptly, looming over me. Most women would have felt a little fear, but I just felt serene. He pulled a card out of his bag and wrote something on the back.

"Here. My friend needs a Girl Friday for his firm. His old one is retiring in three weeks. It won't be very challenging, but it pays well for the position. I'm sure if you use me as a reference you'll at least get an interview. Think about it. I have to go now, I've enjoyed our little talk so much I let the time get away from me. I hope to see you again, Angel. And remember the first card I gave you, if things get intense."

I stood, catching him by surprise and kissing his cheek. He smiled, rubbing his cheek lightly as he walked away.

...

Things got worse around the house. They cut the cable television off that Friday because we were three months behind on the bill. I finally had enough and made the call.

I asked if I could send a resume for the job, giving Brian as my reference. The manager told me just to show up tomorrow at nine-thirty, and bring the resume with me.

I waited until Mark went to work, put on my most business like dress, and walked to the bus stop in front of the corner market. Admittedly, I was scared to death after having been out of the workforce for so long. The office manager was a woman of about fifty, a kind soul who described in detail what my duties were, and how for the right candidate the training curve would be a little more flexible.

I got the job! When they called I danced around the house for thirty minutes before I calmed down. Twenty-six thousand a year, paid bi-monthly. Seven hundred ten after taxes. If overtime was required, I was compensated, or could use it as flex time.

I didn't tell Mark. He was a shift manager for his company, and had to be there early and stay late. I would dress and leave as soon as he was gone, after setting a crock pot. I always had dinner ready when he got home, and he never noticed.

The first check thrilled me. I deposited four hundred fifty in the bank, noticing we were down to just two hundred in our checking. He never let me know how much we had, and I had them send me a daily balance to the home computer.

I'd deposit more later, but I needed to build up my professional wardrobe a little. Two new blouses and two skirts weren't much, but they were a start. I kept a little money for myself. Now I could join the others once or twice a week for lunch.

Trying to break the news to him in a positive light, I showed him the cable was back on, fed him his favorite dinner, and then explained to him that I had been working for three weeks, showing him the deposit slip.

He went ballistic, screaming and ranting that no woman of his was ever going to work. Angered and hurt, I fired back.

"Well, this woman is working, so get used to it! We need the money, Mark, admit it. Look how much easier our life will be, the breathing room we'll have. I've been working for three weeks and you've never noticed! It's not taken a minute of our time together away. Why are you fighting this so hard?"

"I know how offices work! First, you'll go to lunch with the other sluts there. Then you'll be flirting with customers and vendors. Soon you'll want to go out every couple of weeks for an after work drink or two. The next step is a cheap motel or the backseat of some guy's car."

The whole thing took me by surprise. Is that how he really thought?

"Is that what they do where you work? You stop by every once in a while to have a drink with the other managers. Is that what you do when you drink, look for some office slut to hook up with?"

He flushed bright red and started backtracking. "I'm sorry, honey. Of course I would never do anything like that. It's just that I've seen how slick some of those guys are. I'd rather you stayed home."

I pictured Brian, and found inner strength. "I'm not quitting, Mark. I like the job, and the people. It beats staring at the walls, wondering how much longer we'll be able to afford our house. Please don't be difficult."

He grumbled, he complained, even threatened a time or two, but I was on that bus the next Monday morning, going to work.

Seems Brian was right about my ability to, as my new boss put it, 'bring out the nice in people'. I started handling more phone and front desk duty. One day when we needed supplies pretty badly and the vendor had already said no, I accidentally ended up talking to a vice president, and ten minutes later the material was confirmed for overnight delivery. My boss was so happy he gave me a five per cent raise, and two hundred cash. I took the bills out later and touched them. It was the first time in forever someone had shown me in a physical way that I held value.

I took a few hours of my flex time and went shopping the next day, buying what I thought was a very nice office dress and a pair of one inch heels. I had just gotten off the bus with my packages when I saw Brian and his niece and nephew.

The kids immediately demanded I come into the ice cream shop for a treat. I had about an hour before I was due home, so I accepted their invitation. I was in the mood to celebrate, so I decided we should all have banana splits. I shared one with Marcus, and Brian held Tammy on his lap, letting her eat all the nuts and cherries off the top.

I tried to thank him for his help, but he brushed it off. "Jackson called me the other day, and thanked me for sending you to them. Says he owes me a favor. Glad my instincts were right."

When I wasn't working, I was in my yard, planting flower beds and keeping the lawn groomed. It pleased me, I just wish Mark would take an interest. I became friends with several women in the neighborhood. The closest was Amanda, Brian's sister, because of the kids. I started keeping popsicles as a treat for them. Soon word spread, and I got to know the rest of the kids on the street. The next time I was at the grocery store, I laid in supplies for cookies. Oatmeal Raisin and Chocolate Chip were the favorites.

Of course, Mark complained about those "damn rugrats" that always seemed to be in our yard. A few of the parents heard him, embarrassing me no end. I got pretty sharp with him, telling if he didn't like it to stop eating the cookies.

...

Foolishly, I didn't see it coming. While I was getting happier and more outgoing, he was getting more morose and sullen. Then one day I looked online and noticed his pay had dropped, and asked him about it.

"There's nothing wrong with my check! What are you doing snooping through the accounts?"

I was a little stunned. "I'm not snooping! I get daily updates on our account on the phone. It just seemed off, somehow."

That was a mistake. Up until I started working, I didn't have a phone, we couldn't afford one. It was my first real splurge. He ranted, wanting me to take it back, but I refused. He grabbed the phone out of my hand, throwing it against the wall. It flew apart, pieces scattering everywhere.

"What is wrong with you? Why aren't you happy? I'm working because I want our lives to be better. You don't complain now that you can afford golf again, and my monthly phone bill is probably less than one round. It's my money too, now that I'm working, why would you object if I know how much is in the bank? Are you trying to hide something?"

Mark went totally white, then the blood rushed back. I'd hit a nerve there, I thought, time to investigate a little. We were headed towards our biggest fight ever, when Angel and Marcus came round the corner.

Angel started chattering away. "Hi, Mrs. Patterson. Got any cookies?"

I hissed at Mark to stop, and he turned around and slammed out of the house. I smiled at the kids.

"You guys must be part bloodhound. Did you smell the batch I made all the way from school today? Sit here, and I'll be right back with some milk and fresh cookies."

I looked out as I poured the milk and grinned, getting out more glasses. There were five more children on the patio, the kid network in full force.

They cheered as I brought the tray out.

"Two apiece! I'm not going to explain to your mothers why you didn't eat dinner."

Amanda and Chloe came by later to collect their wayward children. Chloe laughed. "I swear, if you had a swing set, I'd never see my kids before dark. Wouldn't have a stray cookie left, would you? Not for me, gee, those things must have a million calories apiece, but you know how much hubby loves them. Maybe I can dangle them as bait, get him to do more around the house."

We visited for a bit, until Mark came back. By now, I was part of the neighborhood, but they were still a little cool to him. We were invited to parties again, but never went, mostly because I knew if Mark misbehaved one more time, I wouldn't be able to take it.

I replaced my phone the next day, glad I had insurance.

For the first time in a long while I was happy. I had a job I liked, friends. If I could just get Mark to see it took nothing away from us, I think he would be happier.

One Saturday afternoon I was out working in my flower beds. Chloe had given me some clippings and had showed me how to care for them. They had their root system now, so it was time for transplanting. Mark came home from a round of golf, ignoring me as he went into the house. I thought about asking him to help me, and the vision of him on his knees in the dirt made me giggle. Things like that were beneath him.

He was in the shower when I came in. His phone was on the counter, and ringing. I picked it up, to tell them to hold on while I got him. I never got the chance.

"The guy has video, Mark. If he shows it to her boss or our boss we're both toast! Now get your ass back over to the motel and try to talk her down. It got pretty intense after you left. I thought it was you coming back when her husband knocked on the door. When I saw it was him it was too late. I got some lumps, but when she screamed I managed to get out of there. The room is in your name, dude. I'd watch my back for awhile, if I was you. Now make some excuse to that pretty little wife of yours, and go try to fix this."

He had just rattled on, and I was too shocked to stop him. Mark came out wrapped in a towel and I handed him the phone. "It's for you," I said flatly, making my way around him.

I could hear him from the living room as I packed my clothes. I got the card out of the dresser, slipping it into my bra. Looked like I was going to need it after all.

"WHAT? YOU SAID WHAT? YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER, I OUGHT TO KILL YOU. WHAT? WELL, FUCK YOU TOO, ASSHOLE!"

He stomped around outside for a minute before coming to me. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Leaving you. You lost your management job for sexual harassment? All the time I thought you were playing golf, proud I had contributed enough to the household that you could afford your hobby again, you were off screwing sluts? Now you might get completely fired? I'm done, Mark."

I didn't see it coming. I bounced off the wall, hitting it hard enough to dent the sheet rock. Dazed, I tried to get up, and he grabbed me by my hair, raking three slaps across my face.

"You do not leave me, bitch. Not now, not ever. You understand me?"

I was crawling across the floor, trying to get to the door. He moved in front of me, kicking my arm. I felt it snap. I screamed, so loud the neighbors could hear. He covered my mouth, telling me to shut the hell up.

I think the only thing that saved me was the appearance of Tammy. I'd seen her earlier, and told her I was baking cherry pies later, and if she and Marcus came by they could take one home for dessert. I had left the front door open, and she just walked in. She saw my bloody face and arm at an awkward angle, the rage in Mark's face, and ran out of the house screaming.

He started after her, and fear he might harm her gave me strength. I slammed into him as hard as I could, knocking him over the couch. It gave me the time I needed, and I ran out behind Tammy, adding my screams to hers. The neighbors, hearing the fuss, were just coming outside.

I almost made it to Amanda's when he caught me, cursing at the top of his breath. Before he could swing, three of my neighbors, all female, swarmed him. One got a black eye, and one got a cut lip. He drew back to slap the other when a voice colder than the North Pole boomed out.

"Let's see you try that on a man, you bastard." It was Brian. Tammy had run all the way to his house to get help.

Mark, still pissed, swung. It was like watching someone hitting a punching bag, there was no reaction at all. You could hear the punch Brian threw, though, all the way to the market. The crack we heard was ribs breaking, followed by his jaw. Brian pulled back to hit him again when Amanda grabbed his arm.

"He's down, bro. Let the cops handle it from here."

Our oldest neighbor, Mrs. Roseman, had come out to see what the ruckus was about, and also called the cops. She video taped the whole thing on her phone, and came by to give it to me the next day. "I haven't shown it to anyone else, child. It's not my way. You may want the police to see it, though. It might help you."

It was a pretty tense scene when the police arrived. Several of the neighbors, husbands of the women he attacked, had shown up, and they were more than willing to handle it in house, so to speak. Soon there were two more squad cars and three ambulances there.

I got to go first. I had a broken left arm, a black eye, and a split lip that took four stitches. Three of the wives that defended me had bruises and contusions, but were treated and released.