The Interview | Freewrite: 8/27/22 | Prompt: A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

Sometime between last year and yesterday, Francine and I wound up in different spaces in our relationship. Don't get me wrong. I'm in love with her, and I believe she feels the same. We're still operating in the same book. It's just that I didn't realize she'd move on. She slipped from the same page in the middle of year ten all the way into a different chapter in twelve months. And I only discovered it by accident. I've heard that eavesdropping can sometimes be painful. Well, I woke up this morning feeling excruciatingly miserable and wondering how I missed it.

You see, Francine hates entertaining. That much I know. But she's such a kind soul that she would never refuse me. So my endless dinner parties for my clients are a bit much to bear.

You'd never know her disdain by the responses from my friends and clients who rave about her. She remembers their children's names and sends cards and flowers on important occasions.

Her Psychology degree and brief field work she divulged was rewarding. She opted to become a full-time mom. She assured me all she desired was to assist me in achieving a successful career. Along with that came the endless dinner parties. I felt the real reason she agreed was to hone her analytical skills.

It was exciting to hear her analyses of our dinner party attendees. Her character assessments with lighthearted caricatures left us in stitches.

It was also nice to have her work part-time near my office. If I had no other appointments, we'd meet each Wednesday at lunchtime.

Last Wednesday when we met, I was fuming. For two weeks, I'd held this on my stomach just churning away. No wonder I had to take some acid reducers numerous times during that period.

The reason I was steamed up was because I was hurt and jealous at the same time. I didn't know which one rose to the top of the acid pile quicker.

And it was all due to that damn dinner party two weeks ago I held for a new client.

As we sat on one of the eating tables nearby the popular food truck, I could barely finish my salad and sandwich. I thought about what led up to my anger.

First, since we have numerous dinner parties, I need to keep them straight in my mind.

About a year ago Grady Preston, a senior official at my company in another branch, hosted a party in which Francine and I were invited. I was being considered a candidate for a transfer position into his region. I surmised he probably wanted to observe me in a social setting.

During the party, it became clear from a close friend that I should reconsider and not accept the offer. She enlightened me about troubling issues concerning Grady's character, or lack of. Some professional; some personal. She warned me that distance was the best defense to avoid entanglement and protect my own position at the company, else open myself up to personal scrutiny.

Once home, Francine raved about the unusual conversion she and Grady exchanged on philosophical principles. She also shared that he was impressed by her.

Without knowing any details, her analysis of Grady was in sync with my friend's assessment. One aspect that she found troubling was his expected flawless behavior and impeccable attire from others.

It was so unexpected that the news floored me. Francine mentioned that Grady offered her a position in his office. Knowing that he was considering me for a position, I was puzzled why he'd lean in that direction.

But then I thought about my friend's warning. I told Francine about the rumors. We both agreed to steer clear of Grady.

I later declined Grady's offer. Combined with his issues now becoming public, I was beginning to grow wary of my own career choice. Yearning to teach was gaining ground. But my family's welfare came first. Francine and I continued on with the dinner parties, each performing our chosen duties.

Then the bombshell at my dinner party two weeks ago.

I ventured halfway into the kitchen. Immediately recognizing my wife's voice, I hesitated, then listened.

"Several months ago, I was offered an opportunity to restart my profession. However, due to a conflict at Stanford's company, he immediately shot down the idea. I'm choking; wasting away at home. Stanley and I both have so many unfulfilled dreams. I at least want to recapture mine before it's too late. So I decided to pursue and accept an invitation to join..."

Francine was about to continue when suddenly her friend looked up, cleared her throat, and announced my presence.

I rushed in and pretended to look for an item for one of our guests. I then proceeded to engross myself in our guests and ignore my wife the rest of evening.

Childish. Yes. However, I was astonished and hurt that she had those feelings and didn't discuss them with me. I thought our relationship was stronger.

So my solution was silence.

Francine should have realized I'd been unusually quiet since the dinner party.

Then three days ago, my wife finally got fed up with me moping about.

"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you for the past two weeks?" She sounded upset and incensed at my attitude.

I had the evidence. Eavesdropping gave me the advantage. I was ready and confident in my ignorance.

"Are you going to tell me what's been bothering you for the past ten years?" I waited.

Francine looked puzzled. Nodding, she smiled as if a revelation had occurred in a therapy session.

"If you're talking about the conversation I had with my friend at our recent dinner party, then you're only operating on half the information you think you overheard."

"Sounded plain enough. You hate your life with me and our family situation. That's about the gist of it I'd say." My chest was puffed and full of whatever I thought I understood.

"Stop being dramatic!" She grabbed my arm and led me to our conversation corner.

I was determined that nothing she could say would ease my hurt and disappointment.

"Stanley, anyone staying at home gets bored at some point. I've overheard you talk about teaching. I realized an opportunity arose for both of us get out careers back on track and do what we truly love."

I could feel Francine trying to be patient, but I cut her off.

"By accepting a position at a company I'm trying to get away from? And working for someone who's under scrutiny? We both agreed to stay clear of Grady. Then I heard..."

It was Francine's turn to stop me.

"You didn't hear the entire story. I was going to tell you about the interview. I was hoping, but didn't want to say anything until I was sure. Although I'll be interviewing with Grady, the position is with a completely different subsidiary he's head of in another part of town. Yes, he recommended me for the position months ago."

I was speechless while she continued.

"He recognized my talents. I wish you would too. I only wanted the job because it pays twice as much as yours. I can return to my profession. You can then quit as you've been yearning to do for years and teach. But that means we won't be able to have food truck lunch together." She laughed.

After our talk, I thought seriously about our future. Yes, she gave up her career for our family. However, our only child was now nine. I knew at some point she'd want to return to the workforce. The fact that she would do this so that I could pursue my career as well melted my heart.

However, I felt her decision should have been discussed with me first instead of hearing it secondhand. I didn't want to admit that I should have brought it up sooner. Two weeks of misunderstanding and upset stomach could have been avoided.

The interview was scheduled the next Wednesday.

We ordered our usual at the food truck and ate. However, Francine was dressed in a beautiful suit.

We finished our lunch, then rose to leave. She clinched her fist while walking as she usually does when nervous. That's when I noticed the back of her suit was dirty, probably from the bench.

Should I tell her? I thought. For a moment, a part of me was in turmoil about the position. Also, I remembered that Grady was a stickler for meticulous dress.

However, I knew that she was excited, so I took my handkerchief and gently wiped the dirt off.

"I love my wife," I said loudly while wiping, as if speaking of someone other than her.

I smiled, kissed her, and crossed my fingers as we parted. I was on the way back to my office, with a renewed sense of direction.

My wife was on her way to the interview.

^{Image used with permission of contest owner}