Alexander's Gift

The Actress- 4

On the outside looking in, one might have called Mary and Dick's relationship a whirlwind romance, but only in the sense that things had gone perfectly smoothly for seven whole months, and without a single hint of dissonance. Mary supposed that was why she found herself standing in front of a full-length, silver-engraved mirror, gazing contemplatively at the reflection of herself in a wedding dress, minutes away from standing at the altar beside Dick. 

She felt it was a very becoming dress on her, with the white, floral-lace fabric making her short, dark hair and dark eyes stand out that much more than usual. The bodice was tight-fitting to accentuate her slender frame in all the right places, while from her waist down to the floor, the dress spilled out puffily so that she wouldn't seem quite so slender as she actually was.

She knew she looked beautiful . . . so what was the problem? She wasn't unhappy, and felt the blossoming of excitement deep within her as she thought of Dick's two bedroom house that would now be called theirs,  and how she now would have someone who would always be there to protect her and love her.

But still she couldn't bring herself to smile simply out of happiness. No, it wasn't happiness that was the issue . . . she frowned contemplatively, and noticed the wing of eyeliner was shorter on her left eye than on her right. It wasn't happiness that was missing, because she was sure that she was fundamentally content; it was passion. The kind of passionate love that made a girl's heart skip a beat everytime her beau came into sight and smiled at her; that was supposed to make every kiss magical, and curl one leg up into the air from the pure passion of it all. 

Mary leaned closer to the mirror as she held the eyeliner steady to extend the line on her left eye. She loved Dick, and she was sure that he was the nicest man she had ever met- nicer than she had ever expected to meet- but she just wasn't sure if they had passion. 

A harsh laugh escaped her ruby red lips, and she finally turned away from her reflection. What was she thinking? She was giving her feelings too much weight in the whole situation- how could she actually allow herself to even think about not getting married simply because of something so extraneous as passion? 

6 Months Later

"Hi, dear. How was work today?" Mary greeted Dick warmly as he entered the kitchen, work briefcase still in hand and the fedora that matched his suit perched on his forehead. 

"Busy." He said tiredly as he gave her a quick kiss and sat down at the kitchen table that had been prepared for his arrival. When a woman had no career other than to be a housewife, it really wasn't too much of a stretch for her to get all of the tasks done around the household and have all meals ready in a timely manner for Dick every day. She actually quite enjoyed the majority of it, of being able to lose herself in mindless, but satisfying activities. 

Bringing over a platter of butter and a knife that matched the set of silverware that they were using for that particular season, Mary gave Dick a loving rub on the back as she passed by him to her seat. As they ate in silence for the first several minutes, Mary kept glancing up at him curiously- it wasn't too hard to notice the deep, tired lines that cut beneath his eyes making them appear more deepset than they really were. 

"So, your work is busy . . . what's been going on down at the bank? Just more customers?" Mary asked casually, a peculiar note to her voice. Dick was too tired to notice the way she said the words, and just shrugged his shoulders, not looking up from his plate. "Oh, you know how it is. Just crunching numbers, and having to deal with incompetent superiors." Mary had stopped eating by now, and was just watching Dick intently as if she had never seen him before. "Do you . . . not like your work?" 

Dick sighed deeply and wearily, head drawn into his shoulders, before asking with a terse politeness, "I like my work just fine, but can we please not talk about my work anymore, honey? I've had a long day, that's all." He glanced up to meet her probing gaze for the first time that evening, and she nodded wordlessly, just offering him a tight-lipped smile. 

Neither of them said anything as they moved into the living room to watch the television before bed, and Mary found herself vaguely frowning as she stared at the wall above the TV, thinking but not sure about what. After an amount of time elapsed that was unknown to her as she felt she was floating dreamily where she sat, just staring motionlessly at the wall, the ambient sounds coming from the television abruptly shut off. Blinking away the fog that had settled over her mind, Mary turned to Dick questioningly. He was facing her in his seat with a broad smile and not looking quite so tired. 

"What is it, darling?" It was strange for Mary to speak after not having said anything for so long. It felt like an inconvenience to do so. A difficulty.

"I just remembered that I was invited by the chairmen of my division to a party on Wednesday night, and I want you to come with me. It'll be one of the fanciest balls you've ever been to." There was that intangible something in his voice that she had been searching for all evening. Passion.

"Of course, Dick. It sounds like it'll be great fun."