AUTUMN | Sarah Barr
The late October sun beat down on Angela as she sat in the backyard, sipping a margarita. Autumn was establishing itself in New England. The days were still hot, sometimes to the point of being unbearable, but the nights were getting colder, and though some green still lingered, the colours spoke of coming of winter.
As she gazed across the dying lawn, Angela couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over her. Their wedding day, seventeen years ago today, was not unlike this one; bright and beautiful and warm. She had been so young, just barely nineteen. But she had loved him as much then as she did now.
Angela looked down at the clock on her phone. 1:45 p.m. God, time was crawling. David wouldn’t be home from work until six thirty. But still, she thought, it gives me plenty of time to get ready.
She didn’t know what David had planned for their anniversary. He had always been good at keeping secrets, and by now she knew better than to try and squeeze the surprise out of him. No, she’d just have to wait.
Angela couldn’t sit still anymore. She peeled herself off the lounge chair and walked through the sliding screen door into the house. The air conditioning washed over her, a welcome relief after the baking heat. She paced back and forth between the living room and kitchen, focusing on the change in sensation on the bottom of her bare feet as she walked from plush carpet to cold tile.
Exhaustion set in, the type that comes from too much time spent in the sun, so she climbed the stairs to the master bedroom and lay down on top of the comforter.
When she woke, the sun was lower in the sky, its brilliant orange glow slanting through the Venetian blinds. She turned her head to look at the clock on the bedside table.
5:47 p.m.
She jumped up. How had she slept so late? She must have had one too many drinks earlier. She peeled her bathing suit off and hopped in the shower, shaving her legs at top speed. She wanted to look beautiful when David got home. She had even gone out and bought a short, black lace negligee. She planned to be wearing it when he walked in the door, an attempt to add a little bit of spice to their marriage. And now she wasn’t even going to be ready.
Angela glanced at the clock again. 6:29 p.m. As she ran dark red gloss over her lips and grabbed the negligee off of her dresser, David’s car pulled into the driveway. She almost fell as she ran blindly down the stairs, pulling the lingerie over her head as she went. She slid to a halt and leaned as sexily as she could against the wall opposite the front door, one hand on her hip. The key clicked in the lock and the door popped open. Angela put on the most seductive face she had in her
repertoire, gazing up at him in the doorway through thick lashes.
David’s ice-blue eyes looked her up and down, eyebrows raised, but no smile came across his lips. No glimpse of pleasure in the sight of her standing, practically naked before him. He stepped into the foyer and put his briefcase down on the floor. He walked over to her and grabbed her by the hips, pulled her into him and pressed his lips to hers. Angela wanted to relax in his arms, but something was not right in his kiss.
“What’s the occasion?”
She took a step back. Had she heard him correctly? Angela hesitated. “It’s…it’s our anniversary,” she said
softly.
David turned and looked at the calendar hanging on the wall.
“So it is,” he said, and headed for the stairs.
Angela stared after him, open-mouthed. He had to be joking. He must have something planned and this was all part of the surprise, to make her think he had forgotten. Yes, that had to be it. But still, she was uneasy. She stood, wondering whether or not to follow him up. After a minute, she slowly ascended the stairs, her heart pounding harder with every step.
When she walked in, he was undressing, laying the various pieces of his suit neatly on the bed, which was still unmade from her nap earlier in the day. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the bed and sprawled herself across it, her eyes locked on his. She reached up, grabbed the front of his undershirt and pulled him toward her. For a moment, it seemed as though he was going to resist, but then David kissed her hard, his muscled arms pushed her down on the comforter, and she yielded to him, letting him move on top of her.
When he was finished, he got up and headed for the shower without a word or even a kiss to the forehead. Angela rolled onto her side, pulled her knees to her chest and tried to hold back the hot tears that stung her eyes. But it was no use. As soon as she heard the water running and knew that she was safe from David walking out and catching her, she let them flow.
She sat up, holding herself as she tried to stifle the sobs. She looked out the window at the trees. The wind had picked up and she could see the black silhouettes of dead leaves swirling against the darkening sky as they fell toward the earth. The negligee, now torn, lay on the floor where it had been carelessly tossed aside.
The late October sun beat down on Angela as she sat in the backyard, sipping a margarita. Autumn was establishing itself in New England. The days were still hot, sometimes to the point of being unbearable, but the nights were getting colder, and though some green still lingered, the colours spoke of coming of winter.
As she gazed across the dying lawn, Angela couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over her. Their wedding day, seventeen years ago today, was not unlike this one; bright and beautiful and warm. She had been so young, just barely nineteen. But she had loved him as much then as she did now.
Angela looked down at the clock on her phone. 1:45 p.m. God, time was crawling. David wouldn’t be home from work until six thirty. But still, she thought, it gives me plenty of time to get ready.
She didn’t know what David had planned for their anniversary. He had always been good at keeping secrets, and by now she knew better than to try and squeeze the surprise out of him. No, she’d just have to wait.
Angela couldn’t sit still anymore. She peeled herself off the lounge chair and walked through the sliding screen door into the house. The air conditioning washed over her, a welcome relief after the baking heat. She paced back and forth between the living room and kitchen, focusing on the change in sensation on the bottom of her bare feet as she walked from plush carpet to cold tile.
Exhaustion set in, the type that comes from too much time spent in the sun, so she climbed the stairs to the master bedroom and lay down on top of the comforter.
When she woke, the sun was lower in the sky, its brilliant orange glow slanting through the Venetian blinds. She turned her head to look at the clock on the bedside table.
5:47 p.m.
She jumped up. How had she slept so late? She must have had one too many drinks earlier. She peeled her bathing suit off and hopped in the shower, shaving her legs at top speed. She wanted to look beautiful when David got home. She had even gone out and bought a short, black lace negligee. She planned to be wearing it when he walked in the door, an attempt to add a little bit of spice to their marriage. And now she wasn’t even going to be ready.
Angela glanced at the clock again. 6:29 p.m. As she ran dark red gloss over her lips and grabbed the negligee off of her dresser, David’s car pulled into the driveway. She almost fell as she ran blindly down the stairs, pulling the lingerie over her head as she went. She slid to a halt and leaned as sexily as she could against the wall opposite the front door, one hand on her hip. The key clicked in the lock and the door popped open. Angela put on the most seductive face she had in her
repertoire, gazing up at him in the doorway through thick lashes.
David’s ice-blue eyes looked her up and down, eyebrows raised, but no smile came across his lips. No glimpse of pleasure in the sight of her standing, practically naked before him. He stepped into the foyer and put his briefcase down on the floor. He walked over to her and grabbed her by the hips, pulled her into him and pressed his lips to hers. Angela wanted to relax in his arms, but something was not right in his kiss.
“What’s the occasion?”
She took a step back. Had she heard him correctly? Angela hesitated. “It’s…it’s our anniversary,” she said
softly.
David turned and looked at the calendar hanging on the wall.
“So it is,” he said, and headed for the stairs.
Angela stared after him, open-mouthed. He had to be joking. He must have something planned and this was all part of the surprise, to make her think he had forgotten. Yes, that had to be it. But still, she was uneasy. She stood, wondering whether or not to follow him up. After a minute, she slowly ascended the stairs, her heart pounding harder with every step.
When she walked in, he was undressing, laying the various pieces of his suit neatly on the bed, which was still unmade from her nap earlier in the day. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the bed and sprawled herself across it, her eyes locked on his. She reached up, grabbed the front of his undershirt and pulled him toward her. For a moment, it seemed as though he was going to resist, but then David kissed her hard, his muscled arms pushed her down on the comforter, and she yielded to him, letting him move on top of her.
When he was finished, he got up and headed for the shower without a word or even a kiss to the forehead. Angela rolled onto her side, pulled her knees to her chest and tried to hold back the hot tears that stung her eyes. But it was no use. As soon as she heard the water running and knew that she was safe from David walking out and catching her, she let them flow.
She sat up, holding herself as she tried to stifle the sobs. She looked out the window at the trees. The wind had picked up and she could see the black silhouettes of dead leaves swirling against the darkening sky as they fell toward the earth. The negligee, now torn, lay on the floor where it had been carelessly tossed aside.