spent each day hoping he would look at her as more than someone who could hold the frog open while he cut it. She was in awe of him. He was so smart and nice and Paula fell hopelessly in love.
At the end of the year, he finally asked her if she wanted to see a movie and Paula thought she would die. He had kissed her that night, his soft lips caressing her trembling ones with sweet, gentle pressure. After that, they became inseparable, planning to marry. However, he went off to Chicago to study psychology and Paula stayed behind to go to secretarial school. They tried for a while to keep up the relationship, but it was too difficult and they parted ways. Phillip stayed in Chicago and eventually met and married Tracy. Paula stayed behind and became a secretary at an insurance company. She kept up with Phillip through his mother and wondered if he still thought about her at all. She had dated some, but no one could measure up to her first love.
Paula had been staring out of her kitchen window thinking about her marriage, before she got back to the task at hand. She rinsed the final breakfast dishes and swiped her now-damp dishtowel across the white bowls from this morning’s bran flakes before placing them in the rack to finish drying. She hugged herself at how lucky she was to have Phillip back after all these years. She knew that sometimes she disappointed him and every day when she woke up, she concentrated on how she could be the best possible wife to him. He deserved nothing less. She hated that Tracy had to die for her dreams to come true, but it was like Carlene said—everything happened for a reason.
EIGHTEEN
P aula didn’t like Tuesdays. Tuesdays was meatloaf. Tuesdays was the day the little Mexican man with the gold earring, ponytail, and dirty green t-shirt came to mow the lawn.
Tuesdays was sex.
Every Tuesday and Thursday, Phillip and Paula had sex and Paula didn’t like it. It was now Tuesday morning and Paula had all day to dread the nighttime custom. At the moment, she was scrambling eggs, brewing coffee and browning toast for Phillip.
After arranging the table with his breakfast, Paula went outside to retrieve the morning paper from the end of the driveway. She withdrew the sports section and placed it next to Phillip’s breakfast plate before discarding the rest into the trash. She then went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of orange juice.
“Dear? Dear, your breakfast is ready,” she called out.
Phillip appeared and smiled at Paula. “Good morning,” he said, walking over to her, preparing to perform the daily morning routine.
“Open wide,” he said, holding out his hand, which contained one tiny white pill and one larger blue pill. “Vitamin time.”
An obedient Paula opened her mouth and Phillip dropped the vitamins on her tongue. With a swish of her juice, she washed them down into her system. She smiled at Phillip and went to rinse out her glass. Phillip waited for her to seat him and give him the first sip of coffee.
As Phillip read the paper and ate breakfast, Paula packed his lunch. A turkey sandwich on wheat with mustard on one side, mayo on the other; a speared pickle, a thermos of tomato soup and two chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Paula heard Phillip clear his throat and she rushed out to clear the dishes. Phillip continued to sit at the table as Paula gathered up her husband’s lunch into a large brown bag and presented it to him with flourish.
“All your favorites,” she smiled.
He nodded his approval. “Don’t forget my jacket.”
She gave him a knowing look. “Of course not, dear.” Paula went to the hall closet and pulled out the blazer she had pressed earlier that morning. She helped him into it and turned him around to survey his appearance.
“Perfect,” she said, smoothing down the lapel. “Have a wonderful day, dear,” she said and smiled.
Philip gave her a dry peck on her cheek. “Thank you, dear.”
With a pivot, Phillip walked out of