Broken

Broken Part 1

Alice 

 It was a bright Sunday morning in late September - the kind that brought with it both warm sunshine and a cool breeze. The fresh air roused Alice from a deep sleep as it blew past the curtains into their bedroom. She rolled over to see Richard still sound asleep on his side of the four post bed they shared. His short brown hair looked tousled like a young boys, but touched with grey around his ears. Richard had seemed offended when Alice pointed this out the week earlier, over breakfast. "I'm nearly forty Alice" he'd said "guys at work went grey a lot sooner than that!" He was touchy these days about his age. This was strange to Alice, since they were both just thirty-eight years old. She knew that the years of infertility struggle had aged them both before their time, but Richard seemed to be most sensitive about it, even insulted when the doctors suggested it may be male factor infertility. As it turned out, Alice was most likely to blame, or at least, her anatomy was. Two years into trying for a baby, a dye test showed that both of her fallopian tubes were blocked. Six years and four failed rounds of In-Vitro later, and here they were, still very much childless. Alice bundled up in her robe and fuzzy slippers and headed downstairs to make the coffee. On her way down the hall she passed the four extra bedrooms Richard had insisted they have when they house hunted, nearly a decade ago. She had thought it prudent to wait until they had at least one child before buying a house with so much square footage, but not Richard. He always wanted bigger and better in everything life had to offer. This reflected in his ever advancing career at the law firm, his collection of antique cars in the garage, and a house far too big for just the two of them. A few months ago, Alice suggested they consider adoption. "Not yet." Richard replied firmly. "Give it more time." Alice had felt nothing but the passing of time these days. She felt like there was a limit on how many times she could pass these empty bedrooms before her heart exploded with grief. She wanted to be a mother so badly that it actually pained her to walk to the mailbox and see other, often much younger, mothers pushing strollers around the neighborhood. She began cracking eggs into a bowl to make an omelet for two when she heard Richards cell phone ring on the bedside table upstairs. She scoffed. She hated to see him bothered with work on weekends. She knew he needed rest after putting in his sixty, sometimes seventy, hours of work at the office each week. She tiptoed to the bottom of the stairs to eavesdrop. "...I will be there when I can. Yes." She sighed. He would be gone most of the day, leaving her yet again to entertain herself. She had once been a very successful sales rep for a local custom furniture and textile company. The head designer, Martin Goulding, still very much a dear friend of Alice's, could not understand for the life of him why she would leave the industry. "I'm newly married to a big shot lawyer Martin," she explained. "He is very traditional. He thinks I should get used to domestic life before we have children." She laughed softly to herself at the memory. 'Children', plural. She would hardly recognize the young newlywed she had been in those days; so naïve and full of hope. There had been no room at all for any doubt that things wouldn't turn out as they planned. "Oh love, you are a saint", his hint of Irish accent still raised the hairs on the back of her neck, even after all these years. She had been attracted to his voice before she even saw his face. They met, ironically enough, at an Irish Pub, downtown Halifax when they were both just twenty three. Alice had been sitting with her friends, close to the bar, when she heard that delicious voice order a round of beers. Her stomach had swirled with a combination of butterflies and desire upon hearing his voice. Deep and low, rolling with the accent she couldn't quite pinpoint after all the drinks she'd consumed. They turned and met each other's gaze at the right moment, and that was it. The term love-struck crossed her mind on the cab ride home with her roommate later that night. She had his number written on her palm, although she wouldn't need it. He phoned her before the sun came up. She loved those early days of love; long phone calls where he could have said just about anything because his voice alone melted her senses. Richard had lived in Dublin with his mother until he was eight, when she decided to move to Canada to gain decent employment and support her only child. Alice turned and smiled before plating his omelet and pouring him a cup of coffee. "You know, it would be nice to enjoy a whole weekend together, as crazy a concept as that might be!" He laughed. "You know I'm almost through working on this corporate merger, and then I'll take you away for a weekend. We can stay in the valley at that Inn you like.....on that vineyard." She sighed. It annoyed her that he couldn't remember the name of the Bed and Breakfast or the vineyard, especially for a man who paid so much attention to detail when it came to his work. "Will you leave your phone at home?" she asked, eyeing him closely for a reaction. "Well...we will have to see about that." She waited until he sat down and then went to rub his shoulders for a moment. He stiffened at her touch. God, she hated that. He used to love when she rubbed his shoulders or ran her fingers through his hair. Somewhere between the third and fourth fertility treatment, their physical relationship had changed. She understood that the needles, specimens and stress had taken a toll on their bodies, but it hadn't changed her desire for him. She still wanted to make love to him and be close to him like they had been before. And although their playful banter and ability to co-exist in their life together was still the same, something had changed for him last year. She was glad they had decided to take a break from trying for a baby. All of sudden, she felt a strong urgency to focus on their relationship.