Victoria’s Diary
December 12, 2017
I was almost jumping up and down with excitement all day today because Carol and her boyfriend Jeff were coming out to visit tonight. She said she wanted to come out before the holidays.
Getting people from the city to come here is no easy task, but Jeff drives for Uber anyway, so it’s not that big a deal to him. I mean, it’s definitely far, but he’s used to spending long periods driving. Meanwhile, I haven’t made it into the city once in the three months we’ve been living out here. I suggested it once to Adam, and he got so upset that I never mentioned it again.
I bought a new dress especially for tonight. Well, I bought it partially because most of my old dresses are too tight now. I finally got on the scale last week and discovered I had gained fifteen pounds since we moved out here. I wish I could join a gym, especially now that it’s too cold to go out running. But since that’s not a possibility, I’m planning to ask Adam for some sort of exercise machine. Maybe an elliptical. It’s way too expensive to buy on my allowance.
Anyway, I saved up my money for the last two weeks so that I could buy this slinky black Michael Kors dress with a slit up the right thigh. When Adam saw me in it, his face lit up and I decided the money was worth it. It seems like it’s impossible to make my husband happy these days, so if a dress is enough to do the trick, it’s worth every penny. I also wore the snowflake necklace Adam bought me when we were first dating.
Except as I hung it around my neck, I got a sudden jab of sadness—my life had become so different since the night Adam gave me that necklace. Some of it is good, obviously. We’re married now. Living together. We’re trying for a baby. But somehow, when I look back on my life before I got that necklace, I want to burst into tears.
“You look amazing,” he told me as he kissed my neck. “I’m so lucky.”
Adam has been in a spectacular mood this week. Things are moving forward really well with his new book. The proofs will be out very soon and he can’t wait for me to see. He’s been really sweet and generous, and incredibly affectionate. And not only was he immediately agreeable to Carol coming over, but he even offered to cook an elaborate Italian dinner. In spite of the knife injury that brought him to the ER, he used to sometimes cook for me back when we lived in the city—he wasn’t too bad at it. But the truth was, I was just happy to have Irina out of the house for the evening. I couldn’t bear the thought of Adam flirting with Irina all night, in front of my friends.
Carol and Jeff arrived looking tired from the drive, with both their cheeks pink from the cold. Carol was hugging an apple streusel to her chest, which was from my favorite bakery in the city. The sight of her familiar face made me nearly burst into tears yet again. I threw my arms around Carol and hugged her for way too long.
“I miss you guys so much,” I told her.
She pulled away from me and looked me over head to toe. Her face brightened. “So when are you due?”
My face felt like it was on fire. “I’m not pregnant.”
Carol looked like she wanted to crawl under a piece of furniture. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Vicky! Please don’t take it personally. You told me you were trying and I just assumed…”
“Nobody could blame you,” Adam spoke up. “All she does is sit around and eat, so this is the result.”
“You look great, Vicky,” Carol said quickly. “I just… I thought you told me you were pregnant somehow. That’s all.”
Nice save. Except we all knew the truth. I don’t look great. I look like a mess.
Adam and Jeff went to watch some game on television while I gave Carol the grand tour. We started with the first floor and worked our way upstairs. She oohed and ahhed over the entire house—she must have told me a hundred times how jealous she was. Although I don’t think she was that jealous. No Manhattanite wants to live at the very tip of Long Island.
The tour finally concluded in the master bedroom. Carol shook her head as she scanned the vast suite. “This is like a dream house,” she said. “I can understand why you wanted to live here.”
Of course, I didn’t want to live here. Adam bought the place without telling me. And I had to give up my entire life in the city to be here. There hasn’t been a day gone by when I didn’t wish I had made another choice.
“You’re so lucky,” she sighed. “This incredible house. Married to Mr. Perfect. And I bet you really are pregnant! You just have that glow about you.”
“Yeah. Um, so how is everyone back at the hospital?” I was sick of talking about myself and how great she thought my life was. “Any gossip?” That got Carol going. She told me all about how one of the nurses got caught making out in the supply room with a married doctor. And one of the nurses is pregnant. She was going on and on, but as she was talking, I realized there was only one person I was really curious about. And I was
getting frustrated that she never mentioned him.
“How is Mack doing?” I finally asked when there was a break in the conversation. I tried to sound like I couldn’t care less.
She shrugged. “Fine. Same.” “Oh. That’s good.”
She paused thoughtfully. “He asks me about you.” My heart leaped in my chest. “He does?”
“Yeah. Like, once a week. He tries to be all casual about it.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Hey. Did anything ever happen between the two of you?”
“No!” I didn’t want there to be any whiff of something going on between me and Mack. For all I knew, Adam was listening at the door. “We were just really good friends. That’s it. I haven’t heard from him in ages. I was just curious, that’s all.”
She grinned at me. “He’s pretty cute though, right?”
“If you like that type…” I looked down at my watch. “Let’s go check on the food.”
Back down on the first floor, Adam and Jeff were having beers and completely immersed in a football game. They were joking around and Adam was being his usual charming self that made everyone love him and waitresses give him their phone number. Mr. Perfect—that’s my husband.
Carol sat down on the couch while I went to check on the food in the kitchen. It looked like Adam had sort of forgotten about it when he got immersed in the game. The tomato sauce he had been cooking appeared
over-reduced—nearly burned—and he hadn’t even started on the pasta yet. I knew I should go out to the living room and tell him his sauce was about to be ruined, but I also knew if I said that, he’d get angry at me. I did not want to fight in front of Carol and Jeff.
Finally, I decided the best thing to do would be to at least get the pasta started. That way I would be helping—plus we didn’t want to eat too late since Carol and Jeff had a long drive ahead of them back to the city. I got the water boiling and tossed in the spaghetti. Just as I had set the timer, Adam wandered into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “I got your pasta going for you.”
Any trace of a smile dropped off his face. “And who gave you permission to do that?”
“It’s not a big deal. It’s just pasta.”
“Right. But I’m cooking the meal.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “When we’re at a restaurant, do you go into the kitchen and start messing with the stove?”
I wrung my hands together. It was clear that my attempts to avoid a fight had not been successful. “No…”
“First you make me entertain your annoying friends… then you embarrass me with your appearance…” He ticked off my offenses on his fingers. “Then you try to ruin the dinner I’ve spent all evening cooking…” He shook his head. “I don’t even know why I put up with you. You’re lucky I’m a nice guy.”
“Look.” I bit my lip. “All I did was boil some pasta. I thought it would help you.”
“I see. So you didn’t think I could handle the meal without your help?” He snorted. “Well, if that’s how you feel, how about this? Why don’t you just finish cooking the entire meal all by your fucking self?”
And then he took one of the ceramic plates on the drying rack and hurled it at the wall, where it shattered into a million pieces.
He spun around and left the kitchen, knocking over the box of spaghetti in the process. The box was still half full, so spaghetti spilled all over the floor in a spectacular mess. Adam either didn’t notice or didn’t care. In any case, he didn’t stop. I bent down to pick up the pasta, wincing when the house shook as the front door slammed.
Carol came running in, and I made up an excuse about how I had dropped a plate and broke it—clumsy me. I only hoped she didn’t notice the dent in the plaster on the wall. As for Adam, I told her he had to run out to get some last-minute ingredients. She seemed like she bought it and helped me clean up the mess on the kitchen floor.
Of course, an hour later, Adam still hadn’t returned. I pretended he called me and told me his car broke down. We managed to salvage some of the dinner, at least, and we had that apple streusel for dessert. I was so upset that I ended up eating like three pieces of it. Carol kept telling me it was no big deal, but I still feel humiliated over the whole thing. I can’t believe he ran out on me for something so ridiculous and small. The worst part is that it doesn’t even surprise me.
And now it’s midnight. He’s still not back.
My husband has a temper. I have to accept that. I knew that starting the spaghetti was going to upset him. I shouldn’t have done it. I knew that! What is wrong with me??? By now, I have a good sense of what sets him off, so I just need to be very careful not to do those things.
Where is he? It’s midnight, for goodness sake!
I’m going to go downstairs and have some more of that apple streusel.
