The Collected Works of D. Alex Rhue

I think this prompt came from Writer’s Digest.

Prompt:

“We’re just too different.”

Below is what I wrote from the above prompt in one sitting.
I deliberately leave these right where the session ended.
At some point I may take these little prompts and polishe them up and include them in bigger projects.

Story:

The words she had just uttered shook every fiber of my soul.

“We’re just too different.” Stacy had said sobbing.

According to her that was enough reason to end 15 years of marriage. How would I respond to such a ridiculous argument? What words could I say to separate her from the course she had been thinking about for some time? I am completely out of the loop. Granted I thought we should be spending more time together, but I never imagined that Stacy wanted to end it all. Too much time has passed and I need to say something, so I decided to let my mouth take the lead hoping my mind would contribute something of value in due time.

“Stace, we have always been different. It is one of the reasons I have always adored you. You see everything from a different angle. You open my eyes to new possibilities. I thought I did the same for you. What has changed?” I asked. My voice was shaking and I could tell I was on the verge of tears. Stacy and I had been together since High School, we got married at 20 and now we were firmly ensconced in the middle of our lives. No longer wild eyed young lovers, we were in the middle of our prime. Or so I thought.

She turned to me her eyes still overflowing with tears. “Jared, why can’t you see we are broken? You can’t put humpty dumpty together again. Its best if we call it now while we are still young and we can start over. We can both find what we need.” As she spoke her shoulders bounced up and down violently like the pistons of a sports car in the heat of a race. Her face was twisted and pained, her eyes pregnant with water her eyebrows furrowed and her lips tucked in as she bit the lower one. She wrung he hands in obvious discomfort as her mind strained to explain the anguish she was feeling.

How had I caused her my love so much pain? What had I done to get us here? Or was it just inevitable because we are ‘just too different’? I resisted the urge to say something, anything. This situation might not improve, but it definitely wouldn’t improve if I ran on impulse as usual or tried to lighten the mood with a joke.

After what seemed like an eternity, Stacy calmed down, her sobbing cooled down to a stable cry. The tears still flowed, but no longer like Niagara falls, more like a slow creek. She sighed as she launched her verbal missiles at me. “Jared, do you remember when we first got married? I wanted to get an apartment and you wanted a house? Then we got a house and after a while, I settled in, and you wanted to get an apartment closer to town? Later you wanted to start a business and I wanted to stick with our jobs. I want to go out, but you want to stay home and watch the game. I want to spend more time together and you want to work more and more. I want pizza but you want Chinese. I want to draw but you want to write. I want silence, but you want to hear music. We are always opposites. How can we go on like this? You don’t even know what I want.”

I was careful not to blurt out a response, but since she revealed what was going on in her heart, I needed to ask just one question before I could show her the real truth. My throat suddenly felt as dry as the Mojave desert. My voice cracked as I asked “Is there someone else?”

Her response was immediate, and pained. “No! I would never do that, you know that especially after my mom and dad.”

“You are wrong about us, it is true, we often start on different pages, but we come together. I love you, and I love us. On my own I am a weird guy. With you, I am interesting, and organized. I have prospects for the future. On your own, you are rigid and anxious, and that is the only reason I’ve been lying to you. Before you freak out, I promise it is nothing bad, but I have to show you right now.” I stood up and extended my hand. After a second that felt like ten thousand eternities, she took my hand and followed me to the car. I got in and queued up my Stacy playlist. I know her mind was racing with a thousand questions. Maybe it was the grief over our apparently failed relationship or something else, but she was silent in the car.

Throughout the thirty-minute drive, her tears came and went. I couldn’t be sure if she noticed, but the songs that played during the drive were each of her favorite songs from the year we got together sophomore year in high school until the present. Following fifteen minutes of highway driving, the signs of the city began to fade. The high rises gave way to strip malls and then to trees. Finally, even these signs of civilization gave way to rolling hills, trees, and wildflowers. As we went along, I could see Stacy perk up. Natural beauty affected her on the cellular level ever part of her was activated by being out in nature. By the time we exited the highway at 25 minutes, she had a huge smile on her face. She was at peace. I knew questions were swirling in her head, but I remained silent as we headed down state route 37 heading further northwest of the city.

The final five minutes of silence went on like a Rush song. It mercifully ended when we reached our destination. The drive way was of old English style cobblestone leading for about half a mile through a mix of flowering trees. First a stand of Japanese Cherry trees, followed by dogwoods, then Crape Myrtles and lastly wisteria. Some might have found the display to be a bit much but I knew that for Stacy it was like a kid in the candy store, Christmas morning, and the 4^th of July all wrapped into one. She sat in the car staring through the window like an eight year old watching a rocket launch. Each new tree, each splash of color hit her with a new and increasing level of joy and satisfaction.

But I knew there was much more in store for her. As we reached the end of the drive way the trees gave way to an open lawn and a ranch style home with a wrap around porch. I quickly put the car in park and walked around to the passenger side of the car opening Stacy’s door. “Where are we?”,  she asked. I remained silent as I guided her through the front door. With a wave of my smartphone, the door unlocked and we walked inside. I, of course walked in confidently as I had been through the door countless times. Stacy on the other hand was hesitant and full of questions. She gently pulled her hand back a bit, but I gently squeezed it tighter and lead her into the house.

As we entered, she could not help but notice the large portrait on the wall to our left. It was of a bride and groom, taking to the dancefloor for the first time. Her eyes took in the portrait from bottom to top as she always did, as her eyes reached the top of the oil painting she gasped. Naturally, she recognized the faces, our faces. She covered her mouth and stared at me astonished. Her mind was flowing with a million questions but her mouth was unable to form the words. I continued our tour. The next room was too the left of the formal sitting area with the portrait. In that room there had only been the portrait and some freshly varnished hardwood flooring. As I opened the door to the next room, was an exercise studio. It had the smell of fresh plastic, metal and rubber.

The room was equipped with floor to ceiling mirrors on the back wall closest to the door. It also had two stationary bikes, two treadmills, an elliptical, some free weights and a smith machine. A large open area was equipped with battle ropes several balance balls and associated accessories. The walls were a bright aqua color and stenciled into the wall in large letters read “Jacy Reds Fit Nation” on seeing the words Stacy began to cry. Not in the deep heaving sobs from an hour earlier, but the tears of one overwhelmed with emotion.

Still wordlessly, I walked her into two additional rooms. I was about to take her into the main bedroom, but I decided that I needed to show her the most special room in the house. Then I could finally speak and explain myself.

The room was right at the end of the hallway, I opened the door revealing a room with soft yellow walls and eggshell paint. In the far wall was a white wooden chest of drawers. The drawer pulls were a mix of diaper pin, diaper, and baby bottles corved out of wood. To the right of the chest of drawers, was a matching changing table followed by a white crib. In the center of the room sat a small mustard colored bassinette and two glider chairs sat on opposite sides of the closet. One of the chairs had a large S embroidered into the white back pillow, the other had a large J embroidered into it.

I gestured to Stacy to sit in the S chair, and I kneeled in front of her. “I guess I have some explaining to do huh?” I said as Stacy nodded her head, still speechless. “Stace, I know I have been ‘working’ a lot lately, but what I didn’t tell you was that this was my project. I was expecting the last bits of furniture to come in  a few days from now. So I was going to show you over the weekend and come clean. I had no idea that you felt like I was pulling away. In reality, I thought we had enough success with the business, and we needed to focus on ourselves, and on building the family we always talk about, but walk back when we consider our busy city life. You never really liked it, and so I sold the business and our house, and had this place built. The only rooms that still need a little work are the playroom, our bedroom, and the studio. If you look closely you’ll see that every detail matches this.” I unfurled a bundle of three colored pencil drawings and handed it to her.

“Jared I- I, I have no words. You still have this?” She asked incredulously. “Stacy, we are not too different, we are in this moment on the same page. Do you remember when you drew this? That night in that hotel? We had nothing and had to spend the whole trip in the hotel room because we were out of money. I asked you what would be your dream home and right away you drew this beauty. I pretended not to care, but ever since that day, I have been looking for a way to make this for you. I tried to get every detail right including the oil painting of that still from our wedding.” I couldn’t make sense of the expression on Stacy’s face, she was crying, smiling, and she looked pained like she was keeping a secret.