It's Only Make Believe

by Roseanne Dowell

  “Michele, I knew I’d catch you if I called early. Did I wake you?” Brad’s voice came over the line.

  Michele did a quick calculation and realized it was thee o’clock in the morning in California. She ran her fingers through her hair with one hand while the other gripped the receiver. She got out of bed and paced the room. “Brad, its six am, which means its three there, what are you doing awake at this hour?”

  “I just got in from meetings.” His words slurred.

  Michele froze. What kind of meetings? Even on their honeymoon, Brad never got drunk.

  ***

  “I wondered how you were doing.” He continued. “We should have things wrapped up here in a day or two. How have you been? Are you keeping busy?” Brad drew circles around the base of the phone. He wanted to be home with his wife not here with a difficult client. Business should have been completed a day ago, but Edgehurst insisted on changes to the ad campaign. Never satisfied with first presentations, it annoyed Brad that he refused to wait until after his honeymoon, which he had originally agreed to. Brad knew he’d reject the initial ideas, and Ruby was getting on his nerves, wanting to work well into the night. Tonight he wined and dined Edgehurst and his young companion, going from club to club, drinking and dancing. He wasn’t up to this kind of entertainment anymore.

  Michele sounded distant, not happy to hear from him, it was foolish to call her. She probably liked that he was gone. Still, he remembered her soft compliant body when they made love, and she seemed to enjoy his company on their honeymoon. He thought about the dejected look when he told her he had to leave. She had wanted to make him dinner, had even given Louise and Anna the evening off. He smiled at the gesture. A long pause ensued before she answered.

  “Not much. I went back to work yesterday, set up some appointments, had dinner with Sarah...”

  Brad took a deep breath, sighed. He pictured her sitting in their room, sexy and innocent all at the same time. He wanted to be there with her, running his fingers through her hair, kissing her. He shook the thoughts from of his mind. He’d finish his business as soon as possible, and he’d make arrangements to take her on a real honeymoon. One they’d both enjoy. He yawned, the long hours were taking their toll and the alcohol didn’t help. “I’ll call you later,” he finally said. “Michele...” dare he tell her he missed her? He decided against it. “Have you seen either of our parents since you’re home?” he asked instead.

  “No, uh I talked to my mother. I promised to have dinner with her Friday.”

  After a long pause Brad continued. “Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow.” He didn’t want to hang up, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Besides, exhaustion exerted itself, and he yawned again.

  “Bye.”

  Brad hung up and stretched out on the bed, clothes and all. Wasn’t long before he fell asleep.

  ***

  Michele had wanted to say more, but her mind went blank. Why couldn’t she talk to her husband? Ask him some of the things that troubled her? Maybe because she didn’t want to know the truth. If he was with Ruby she didn’t want to hear about it. Besides it was so early her brain hadn’t woke up yet. She hung up and sighed. She could have told him about the rooms, but she wanted to surprise him. Her heart beat wildly at the sound of his voice, drunk or not, she missed him. Why did she suddenly feel shy with him? She sat on the bed and leaned back on the pillows, her legs stretched out on top of the comforter. Why had he been out drinking so late? Where was Ruby? She took a deep breath. Had she heard longing in his voice when he said her name, or was it wishful thinking? Just the sound of his voice sent shivers up her spine. She looked forward to him coming home. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. She’d plan a special dinner for his return, let Anna and Louise have the night off again. That’s what she’d do. They’d spend a quiet evening just the two of them. Talk about things, clear the air about Ruby. Get it out of her system. If something was going on, would she end their marriage? Keep pretending? Was she worrying about nothing? She went to take her shower, letting the hot steamy water run over her body and remembering how Brad had come into the bathroom that first day. Funny, it had become a routine on their honeymoon. Her shyness had disappeared at seeing his long lean naked body. Excitement coursed through her at the thought of their intimacy.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Finished with her shower and dressed, Michele went to the kitchen to fix breakfast. Anna came in as she added the last scoop of coffee to the pot.

  Michele didn’t like the idea of a cook and housekeeper, but had grown to like Anna and Louise. Unlike her parents, she became friends with them. Although she’d like nothing better than to get rid of them, she couldn’t fire them. For one, her parents wouldn’t hear of it and second, they both depended on the salary to help run their own homes. But there was so little for Anna to do, especially with ‘the mister’, as Anna referred to Brad, away. Michele’s meals consisted mostly of salads or a quick sandwich. Anna had grown comfortable with Michele’s friendliness and often scolded her poor nutrition habits. Michele frequently gave both women time off, but never docked their pay. Her mother would be horrified if she knew and surely Mrs. Lawson’s reactions would be much similar. Michele would bet her life Brad agreed with her. Amazingly, she and Brad shared many interests and ideas.

  “What does Missy want for dinner?” Anna asked while she pulled a coffee cup from the cupboard and got the cream from the refrigerator. The minute the pot quit dripping, she poured a cup and handed it to Michele.

  Michele took a sip and savored the rich aroma and taste. She decided to humor Anna. “How about a nice chicken breast with gravy and mashed potatoes?” Her mouth watered at the thought. What made her think of that? Whatever it was, it sounded good to and delighted Anna once she got over the initial shock.

  Obviously Anna expected her typical I’ll just grab a salad or sandwich answer, Anna had begun to mutter about her eating habits. “I swear I don’t know how you young people survive the way you...” she stopped, hands in midair, mouth fell open and stared at Michele. “You want what? Are you having guests?”

  “No, just me.” Michele laughed at the woman’s reaction. “I said…”

  “I heard what you said. Is the Mister coming home?” Anna brushed her fingers through her dark curly hair. “Of course, that’s it. The mister expects a nice home cooked meal.”

  “No, the mister won’t be home,” Michele mimicked Anna’s rich accent and dragged out the words. I just thought it might be nice to have a good dinner for a change. Make it for two. I’ll invite Sarah, that’ll make it worth your while to cook.” She left the room. “Oh,” she stopped at the doorway, “make something rich and chocolaty for dessert?”

  “I swear...” Anna muttered to herself as Michele went through the foyer and picked up her car keys. Louise came in, just as Michele prepared to leave.

  “Morning, Miss.” Louise, quieter than Anna, seemed to have a difficult time adjusting to Michele’s friendly attitude. Though she was efficient and respectful, it was taking longer to break through her reserve.

  “Morning, Louise, how are you?” Michele fluffed her hair in the mirror.”

  “Fine, Miss, any special orders today?”

  Michele looked at the tall, slender woman. Louise’s dark brown, mysterious eyes lowered as Michele scrutinized her. Michele wondered if she was married. Probably not. Not that it was any of her business, but something about those dark eyes held secrets.

  “Yes, Louise, if you wouldn’t mind, Jason finished painting the guestrooms. They need to be put back together. Wash the bedding before you put it on and the drapes will probably need ironed. Other than that, just your normal routine.” She smiled, knowing her mother wouldn’t approve of such vague instruction. Looked like she’d have to have dinner alone with her parents on Friday.

  Even now, she found the thought unpleasant. Her mother loved her and had her best interest at heart, but they didn’t like the same things. Michele hated the club, h
ated the snobbery and social lifestyle her parents led. Give her the casual life any day, and she’d be happy. Sometimes she wondered if she was really their kid or if they mixed her up in the hospital. Apparently Brad shared her same ideas. How could two kids grow up with almost identical lifestyles and dislike it so much?

  “Bye, Miss.” Louise replied before Michele closed the door.

  Michele hummed along with the radio on the way to work. She loved listening to country music and the catchy tunes often helped her mood. Today, with the sun shining and the fact that Brad called lightened her mood. Something about the sound and tone of his voice told her he missed her. She wished she hadn’t felt so shy. She should have told him how much she missed him. Determined to make amends if he called tonight, she strode into her office smiling.

  “Well don’t you look like the Cheshire cat?” Sarah looked up from her desk and straightened the papers she held. “Is Brad home? You look absolutely glowing.”

  Michele stopped at the doorway to her office, looked at her attractive secretary with her long blond hair. Pretty, petite Sarah, Michele thought, she deserves to be as happy as me. “No, Brad isn’t home, but he called this morning.” Michele hugged herself. The sound of Brad’s voice lingered in her mind, warmed her. She sat down behind her desk, opened the O’Neil file and wondered what was wrong with Mr. O’Neil.

  She hoped Sarah was right, that he was having a bad day. Three weeks ago, he’d been as excited as his wife about the renovation. He‘d been so anxious to get started that Jane had to talk him into waiting until Michele returned from her honeymoon. Michele felt grateful for the Waite’s recommendation. Cheryl Waite’s dining room must have impressed Jane O’Neil, because she insisted on waiting. Patrick agreed reluctantly. She thought he’d be happy that she could get started early. She shrugged and began work designing the kitchen. Most of it was standard procedure, but Jane wanted an island and a different set up than she had now. Michele began with the commercial size stove and placed it in a strategic location on the mock up, then the refrigerator, dishwasher and wine cooler. Playing with different arrangements, she finally came up with one that satisfied her.

  Work and choosing colors for the other rooms in her own home took up most of Michele’s time. Brad came home and left again the same day for another two weeks. Much to her chagrin he had been delayed another week. He had now spent more time away from her than they had together. Married almost two months and they only had a four day honeymoon. If this was his idea of marriage, he was sadly mistaken. He had told her marriage for a year wouldn’t be difficult, that the year would pass quickly. Maybe for him it would. And his phone calls came less frequent, and they seemed to have less to say to each other. Her husband became a stranger. But then she hardly knew him when she agreed to the marriage. How could someone be so attentive and caring on their honeymoon and then ignore her? Probably just the setting.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Michele hired Jason to paint the rest of the house and came home one evening to find the living and dining room finished. The soft beige of the living room soothed her while the deep brick red in the dining room gave a sedate elegant feel to the room. The crystal chandelier shimmered in the room, and the contrast of the white woodwork added to the warmth, just as she hoped it would. Unfortunately, the heavy oak furniture looked out of place. She wanted something delicate against the dark walls and a wood floor with an area rug rather than the white carpeting. Michele hated white carpeting. Although elegant with the right mix of textures, she preferred color. Bold color, rich, soft subdued color. Not just a hint of color. Depending on the room as to the tone and boldness. Mostly she liked subdued color, burgundies and forest greens as opposed to Christmas reds and greens. She liked the primary colors – they had their place - but she liked the subdued variations – dusty blue instead of royal blue. White worked for other people just not her. She found it lacking warmth and excitement. Variations of white, cream, ivory, and off white weren’t bad. Done properly they often soothed and relaxed. Pure white on the other hand, well Michele found it dull, sterile, and cold. It did nothing for her. Reminded her of snow, and she had enough of that outside in the winter. Didn’t need it inside. White didn’t invite people to relax. She remembered being afraid to walk on it in her mother’s home.

  Making a mental note to discuss furniture with Brad, she went in search of dinner. Lately she’d become so hungry. Must be the good food Anna tempted her with. Not that Anna minded. Michele swore the bigger the meals the more it delighted the cook. The delicious aroma of Italian spices and garlic invited her into the kitchen. Anna stood at the stove stirring a large pot.

  “Are you cooking for an army?” Michele pulled a spoon from the drawer and dipped into the large pot to sample the sauce. “Hmm,” she licked her lips and savored the spicy sauce. “Anna, you should have opened a restaurant. This is divine.”

  Anna’s face glowed and her grin threatened to explode her puffy cheeks. “I’m happy to see you eating for a change. You young women think it’s so important to stay thin, you look, what’s the word ano...? It’s about time you put some meat on your bones.”

  “Anorexic?” Michele looked down at her thin frame and noticed she had put on a little weight. Her skirts and slacks had become a little snug. All the fattening food Anna tempted her with had increased her appetite. Vowing to begin a diet tomorrow, she dug into the large plate of pasta Anna set before her. “Anna this is scrumptious. She bit into a piece of homemade garlic bread. Anna topped the meal off with an amaretto cheesecake for dessert. Michele sat back and patted her stomach. Stuffed from the large meal, she couldn’t remember ever having eaten so much. Hopefully, she wasn’t becoming one of those stress eaters. The fact she and Brad had become so distant scared her. Strange, just a few months ago, she hadn’t even wanted this marriage. Had only agreed when Brad suggested they only stay married to satisfy their parents.

  The phone rang. “I’ll get it, Michele yelled, hoping it was Brad. She hoped the disappointment didn’t show, when she heard her mother’s voice. “Michele, why are you answering the phone?” Her mother started on her as soon as she answered. “Why do you have a maid, if you continue to do her job?”

  Michele had avoided her mother after their last meeting. Her comments about not understanding why Brad spent so much time in San Francisco irritated Michele. She’d even hinted that maybe there was more going on than Michele realized. Not something she wanted to hear. Michele had enough doubts of her own without her mother adding to them.

  Michele walked around the newly painted room, trying to draw calmness from the warm color, while her mother ranted and raved about Michele not spending any time with her.

  “Really, Michele, I don’t understand why you can’t set aside one afternoon a week for lunch at the club with Myra and me.”

  Michele made excuses that she was busy with work. “I’m usually free on Thursday, Mother.” Knowing full well, her mother had meetings on Thursdays. She recalled the disaster last time she had lunch with her mother and Myra. Myra had insisted Michele call her Mother Lawson. Michele almost gagged at the thought. She had always called her Aunt Myra. So now she made it a point to look at Brad’s mother when she spoke, thereby avoiding the necessity of using the awful phrase. Mrs. Lawson and her mother had questioned her all through lunch about Brad’s lengthy business trips. They even hinted it was Michele’s fault. Both women had tried to give her advice to help her marriage succeed.

  “You must put him first, dear,” her mother said. “Your job isn’t top priority. I don’t understand why you insist on working anyway. Brad’s income should amply support you.”

  “I work because it’s my business and I enjoy it, Mother.” Michele tried to explain. “Besides, with Brad gone so much it fills my time.”

  “You should do more volunteering to fill your time. There’s always the charity at the club, Michele,” Myra added. “It would show Brad he’s first in your life.”

  Michele couldn’t believe
it. Both women were so involved in their so-called charities and the club they hardly had any time for their family, let alone their husbands. She didn’t need their advice and certainly didn’t care to listen to them suggest she was the reason for Brad’s absence. Brad’s work demanded a lot of his time, and he had to travel, but before they were married, he was never gone this long at one time. She feared the worst, of course, and worried about him being with Ruby. Ruby’s words continued to haunt her, a constant reminder that her marriage wasn’t real.

  She hung up, disheartened. Brad’s phone calls had become less frequent, shorter, and strained. Her hand had hardly set down the receiver and the phone rang again. Still upset with her mother, she answered in a nasty tone.

  “Michele, are you okay?” Her mood lightened at the sound of Brad’s voice.

  “Brad, hi, yes I’m okay, sorry just hung up with my mother.”

  “Oh, okay. Listen, I only have a minute, but I called to let you know it’s going to be a couple more days.”

  What else was new? It was becoming an ongoing pattern. Tears welled in her eyes.

  “We have few more things to iron out.”

  “Okay.” What else could she say? Her heart fell to her feet. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she was the reason Brad stayed away. Visions of Ruby flashed in her mind. Michele was sure she heard her voice in the background.

  “Okay, gotta run. Later.” Brad broke the connection.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Brad hung up and threw Ruby a dirty look for interrupting. Did he hear Michele sigh? Was she disappointed? Maybe he should have told her about the honeymoon he planned. He sat on the bed, disappointed. Michele’s simple okay sounded like it was fine with her if he stayed in San Francisco forever. Sure, why not, she was footloose and fancy free. She could come and go as she pleased and didn’t have to answer to any one, leading the single life. His jaw tightened. She’d better not be leading the single life. They had a deal, and she better be sticking to it. He had promised to remain faithful; she’d better do the same. She thought their marriage was a sham, he’d even thought so himself, so why did it bother him that she was okay with him being gone. Maybe because she acted like she cared on their honeymoon, as if she enjoyed his company.