Chlorine

Chapter 2: The Thought

Chapter 2: The Thought

"Benjamin's been having a lot of late nights at the office. Wonder who he's spending them with..."
       I furrowed my brows as I read the short sentences on the page. I looked around once again as Elijah entered the kitchen. He'd just arrived, eager to begin his second day.
       "Good morning Mrs. Astor," he said as he took a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
       "Please, call me Abigail. Mrs. Astor makes me feel old," I said as I smiled playfully, trying to hide the letter on the counter behind me.
I was only thirty-two, but for some reason, having a twenty-something-year-old working for us made me feel like an old money prude.
       "Do you have anything in particular that you want me to do today?" he asked politely before taking a sip of the water.
       "Well, if you want to vacuum out the pool and clean around the sides for me that would be great. My physical therapist says I need to start doing hydrotherapy again," I said rolling my eyes.
       "Oh, hydrotherapy? Do you mind if I ask what it's for?"
      I looked down at the ground before responding.
       "I was attacked a few months ago, and it left me with a traumatic brain injury. I'm an artist, but I haven't been able to paint since the accident because of this damned tremor," I said revealing my shaking hand.
       "The hydrotherapy is supposed to help with that and my balance because I still have issues with that among other things, but baby steps," I said with a fake smile.
       "I'm sorry that happened to you," he said sympathetically.
       I looked away, a sense of embarrassment washing over me as if I were ashamed for him to meet this version of me. He could sense my discomfort, so he adjusted, reverting to working on the task at hand in an attempt to ease my anxiety.
       "I'm going to go change into my swimsuit, and I'll get started on that for you," he said before scurrying away to the bathroom.
       I walked outside to the closet to find the pool vacuum for him. As I sat it on the concrete, he stepped out from the sliding glass doors shirtless with baby blue swim trunks on. I nearly choked on my words while I stared at his tan, sculpted body.
       I wasn't quite sure why it was any different seeing him as opposed to Benjamin or someone else, but I found myself compelled to appreciate the beauty of it, like it was a piece of art—the fucking statue of David but far more beautiful.
       Shit. I was staring, gawking actually.
       I composed myself, blushing on both cheeks with the temperature of a raging wildfire before taking a deep breath.
       "Um, the-here is the vacuum for you," I said as I embarrassingly went inside to recover from that encounter.
      I found myself back in the kitchen looking at the vague note from the mailbox wondering what I should do about it. What was this person insinuating? Well, I knew what they were insinuating, but did I believe it?
       At that same moment, my phone vibrated from the kitchen counter. I picked it up to find a text message from Benjamin. "Just got thrown another case. Going to be a late night. Kiss Emma for me. Love you."
       His timing was immaculate.
I reread the note as the words flooded my mind. I'd been married to Benjamin for six years, and I just didn't want to consider the possibility of him entertaining an affair. I had no reason to suspect that he was lying to me about anything up until this letter, but for all I knew, it was a trap to get me out of the house, another opportunity for my attacker to try again.
       I balled up the paper and tossed it into the trash.
       Emma ran downstairs to join me in the kitchen before asking if she could play outside on the swing set. I went out with her, occasionally finding myself gazing in Elijah's direction. I hated myself for it, but it didn't stop me from doing it.
       It seemed like lately the more Benjamin worked, the less we had sex. Our intimacy was lacking, and I think maybe that's why I was looking at Elijah in the way that I was. It was just innocent admiration, a void I wished my husband would fill.
       The many days I'd found myself lonely and anxious from Benjamin's absence while he was away at work and Emma, who was usually busy playing in her room, were seemingly changing with Elijah here. There was almost a sense of comfort with him around.
       Any other day, I probably wouldn't have come outside with Emma in the first place. Though, it wasn't off limits for me to come into the backyard; the fence gave me security that was required for me to take those hesitant steps out into the world. That was the extent of that, nothing more.
       But, since Elijah was here, I was more willing to accomplish small victories like being outside with Emma for a while. I pushed her on the swing, caught her at the end of the slide, and played tag with her; Elijah giving us a friendly smile when we'd run in his direction. It was a sense of freedom and release that I'd desperately needed.
       After Emma got bored of her swing set, she ran back inside to play with her babydoll while I got a wild hair to attempt painting. I knew I'd probably end up feeling discouraged and frustrated, but I felt like I should at least try and see what happens.
       I was about to have a good bit of free time now that I had Elijah to help me with daily tasks. It was the perfect time to find inspiration and reignite my spark with art.
So, I changed into a white jumpsuit that had dried paint covering most of the fabric. I threw my hair into a messy bun and walked up to the third floor of our home to my dusty, abandoned art studio.
There was a big window overlooking the backyard that gave the perfect natural light over my easel. I found my palette and filled it with a variety of colors. I wasn't quite sure what I was going to paint yet, but that was usually how it was when I created some of my best work.
I picked up a brush and began painting a few strokes onto the blank canvas. I bit the end of the wooden brush while I tried to envision the result. I looked outside where I saw Elijah standing in the pool and resumed painting to occupy my mind.
I felt like it was actually coming together until I jerked a stroke across the center of my painting. I kept my cool and decided I'd fix it only to make it even worse as my hand tremor intensified.
After staring at the messy painting, I lashed out. I threw the palette across the room and pushed the easel into the window hard enough for it to shatter, sending glass down the shingles of the lower roof of the house. I covered my mouth as I started to cry.
My entire life I'd worked so hard to become a gifted painter, and one night ruined that for me. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to produce beautiful art again. My career would be over.
Several minutes later, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, too heavy to be Emma's. I looked up to the doorway where Elijah stood worriedly.
"Hey, are you okay? I heard the window, and I wasn't sure what happened," he said softly.
I wiped the tears from beneath my eyes before lying and saying, "I'm fine. My easel fell over by accident."
He glanced down at the canvas covered in wet paint and mistakes before looking back up at me.
"It's okay to get angry sometimes," he said in a comforting tone.
"I'm sorry," I began, wiping a tear away from beneath my eye. "I didn't mean to cause a commotion. I was hoping it would make me feel better, but it actually made me feel worse."
He frowned.
"I think I need to take a break from this. Can I get you something for lunch?" I offered.
"Sure," he smiled.
The two of us walked down the stairs.
At this point, Emma had run out of her playroom plundering through the kitchen cabinets in search of a snack. I watched her intently before taking a few items from the refrigerator and sitting them down in front of me.
"Mommy, am I out of animal crackers?"
"Did you look in the bottom of the pantry?" I asked.
"I can't find them," she said as she made her way to the pantry opening.
I walked over to the doorway and knelt beside her before pulling out a bright red box of animal crackers. I could feel Elijah watching me closely. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, but I pretended not to notice.
   I handed her the box, and then I began fixing the three of us a sandwich.
Emma took a seat next to Elijah at the island before she dug around in the box of crackers, stuffing her mouth full of them.
       "What does Mr. Astor do for work?" Elijah asked.
       "Um, he owns a law firm in the city," I said with a fake smile.
       "Oh, that's cool. I didn't get the chance to really talk to him the first day we met, but he seems like a nice guy."
       I sighed before walking to the sink to wash my hands.
       "He is. He just works a lot," I said emphasizing the word lot.
       "Yeah, my Daddy is always working," Emma said nonchalantly.
I frowned to myself as I used the hand towel to dry off before continuing to prepare lunch.
       "What about you, Elijah? Other than helping us out, do you have any hobbies? Are you in school?"
       "I go to Columbia actually. I'm on the baseball team, and I'm majoring in chemistry," he said.
       "Oh, wow, an Ivy League," I said smiling at him. "That's a tough school to get into. What year are you in?"
       "I'll be a senior when fall semester starts," he said as he took out his phone to check his text messages.
I turned to grab a few plates from the cabinet before placing our sandwiches on top. I slid their plates across to them before taking a bite of my sandwich. The two of them didn't waste any time eating theirs while Emma made a mess as usual.
       "Do you live on campus?" I asked.
       "I live in an apartment with a couple of my friends from the baseball team. It can get pretty rowdy sometimes," he said sticking his phone back down into the pocket of swim trunks.
       "I bet."
       "They like to party and get drunk just about every day," he said, taking another bite of his sandwich.
       "Well, if you ever need a quiet place to study, you're more than welcome to use the space we have here," I said politely.
       "I might just take you up on that offer once summer break is over," he said appreciatively.
We eventually finished lunch, all of us scattering to various areas of the house.
As the day continued to pass, I cleaned up around the house while Elijah finished vacuuming and scrubbing the inside of the pool. I tried to do things to keep my mind occupied, but I kept finding myself rereading the text message from Benjamin about working late. I began searching through his Facebook trying to find any women who might've commented or liked some of his photos before locking my phone and tossing it to the side.
This isn't me. I don't stalk my husband's Facebook or question his faithfulness to me. I have everything in this marriage most days. His career has just consumed the freedom we once had, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me vulnerable to the slightest bit of attention from another man, even if it was all in my head.
I never got the feeling that Benjamin was unhappy or unfulfilled in our marriage, so I just found it difficult to think, for even a second, that he wasn't actually working late.
Yet the more I thought about it, maybe I had been blind or absent myself lately from being able to interact with him and Emma to really see beyond the behavior in this house.
       There was this bothersome unenthusiastic demeanor that casually made appearances within Benjamin's personality. I just wasn't sure if it was from the overwhelming stress he was enduring from work or if he was slowly distancing himself.
Maybe the reason I never saw evident dissatisfaction was because he was getting it from someone else.
The thought did cross my mind.