Not this Time

I peered into our spacious closet. Despite the airy room and the ceiling fan going strong, I could feel the sweat beading down the curves of my spine. I made my way to the drawers, shifting my way through the layers of chiffon and silk to find my favorite old cotton t-shirt. Finally I find it, hidden in the back corner, full of wrinkles, worn thin from years of being tumbled dry.

“Sweet Pea, what are you doing?” I froze with the shirt held out in front of me. My back turned to the honeyed voice in the door.

“Just wanted something to wear that breathed a little, the humidity is making me miserable.” I spoke in my most polite tone, lowering the shirt a little to hide it from view. “I thought you had gone into the office.”

I heard his feet move closer, a sinking feeling in my gut as his hands came down authoritatively on my shoulders.

“You know, I thought we had thrown that shirt out. Don’t you think you would be so much more comfortable in that yellow sundress I like so much?” He reached forward, taking the shirt in his hand, “You know the Carvers said they might stop by this afternoon, you wouldn’t want them to feel embarrassed because you weren’t put together, now would you?”

I force my tense shoulders to rotate with my legs, turning to face my husband, now in full control of the offensive shirt.

“Well, dear, I don’t know that they would be embarrassed to see me in a t-shirt and shorts, but no, I don’t mind wearing that sundress. Would you like for me to make anything special for when they come over?”

I see anger ripple across his features, gone before I could tell you exactly what it was that changed.

He stepped forward and wrapped me in his arms; I force my shoulders to relax, to curve into his embrace.

“Now Sweet Pea, you know I think you are beautiful no matter what, but I’m the only one who will ever think that. So don’t you think you should always try and look the best you can for everyone else?”

Tears threaten to come up as I feel my teeth jerk together. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of pulling away to see glassy, defeated eyes. Not this time.