I’ve been lazy…sort of

Okay,  so…

Been crazy busy.  I have been writing just not on here.  Nothing cohesive yet.

Crazy hot and humid in Indiana; miserably so.

Had weird dream, about a guy who had buried himself up to his shoulders, as a way of committing a very slow and awkward suicide.  Next night had a dream about hunting aliens.  Weird I know.

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Just wanted to let everyone know I’m back.  Been down with a cold, and then some family stuff came up.

Love Dies in Spring- All the pieces fit together to make the story, even the scenes that aren’t there…are in there.

“It will happen for us. We just have to wait, and be patient.” Jake squeezed her hand as they walked out of the doctor’s office. The results had been less than promising.
“I know, it will. It just won’t happen today, but maybe tomorrow.” She smiled at him, that smile could still melt his heart. The car ride home was unusually quiet. Perhaps she was lost in her own thoughts; maybe she was hiding how she really felt. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her staring out the window. The silence in the car was uncomfortable, he preferred anything to silence. He switched on the radio, she shot him the “look”, and he turned it off.
“Thanks.” She smiled gratefully. Her hand slipped into his, fingers entwined. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” He was grateful for her words, it eased his mind. A part of him felt guilty, like it was his fault conceiving a baby would be next to impossible. The words of the doctor sat on his shoulder whispering in his ear taunting him, telling him he wasn’t a real man that he had failed as a husband. Faith was not something he possessed an over-abundance of. Life for him consisted of straight lines, angles, symmetry, and order if he allowed any recklessness then a building would never rise. Kansas would chide him and remind him of Frank Lloyd Wright, a truly innovative architect, one who Jake greatly admired, but didn’t strive to be. Kansas was the dreamer, and if it weren’t for her, he felt like he would drown in a sea of blue –prints and rulers. She brought disorder to his otherwise mundane existence. The order and harsh realist philosophy he built his so called ‘faith’ on told him the ugly truth, he would never father a child. The doctor hadn’t said that, but the statistics had been enough to condemn him. He had to believe that it would happen, for her sake he had to believe, and try to put some faith in faith.
“What are you thinking?” she interrupted his thoughts.
“I’ve got a design due next Thursday.” He lied.
“Oh, I thought maybe you were thinking about, our test results.”
“No.” Talking about it wouldn’t change anything.
It was a month later, and only the weather had changed. They walked out of the doctor’s office with disappointment following on their heels. The insemination had failed. “I’m sure we’ll have better luck next time.” Jake encircled his arm around her waist, bringing her close. He was running out of things to say, there was nothing he could say to ease the heartbreak. Month after month of seeing little pieces of Kansas stripped away, was his own private hell. He suffered in silence, afraid to tell her what he was thinking, afraid of hurting her more.
“It’s raining.” She said.
“We can wait till it lets up, or I’ll go get the car, and you can stay here.”
“I like the rain.”
Jake grinned remembering the first time they had made love. “I know you do, but we’re older now.”
“Yeah, but no wiser” She dragged him out into the downpour, clearly enjoying herself. The cold bit into him, all the way down to the bone. He had no idea what thrilled her so.
“Isn’t it invigorating?” she shouted throwing her hands to the sky. A peal of thunder rang out, warning Jake to get inside. “I think we should get to the car, before it starts storming.” The blackening clouds hung ominously above their heads. “Come on Kay, we need to get home.”
“We are home. Don’t you know we live in the rain?”
“What? I’m soaked, and you want to get philosophical on me? Come on Kay!”
She cupped his face in her hands, looking through his blue eyes into his soul. A smile spread across his face, “Why do we live in the rain?” She seemed her old self, his crazy girl, and he couldn’t stay mad for long.
“Because, right now we’re going through a rough patch, like a storm, and it seems hopeless, but the thing you have to remember is what happens.” Her voice was hushed almost reverential.
“I don’t understand.”
“The rain, it gives life, makes things stronger.” She took his hand and pressed it against her belly. “It makes things grow.” Jake couldn’t tell if raindrops or tears were running down her face.
He kissed her forehead, “God, I love you.”
“Jake, it will happen for us. We just have to ride out the storm.”
The memory faded away.
He tried to hang on to it, to hang on to that feeling that made him love her, but it was gone. He knocked softly on the apartment door. Fluorescent lighting bounced angrily off his wedding ring. The band easily pulled off his finger, too easy as if it was never bound to him. She answered the door in a pink silk robe. Kansas hated pink. Her long well manicured nails tapped on the door frame.
“Well are you going to come inside?” Her question seemed straight-forward enough, but everything that she said seemed to contain innuendo.
“I don’t know.”
“Ah, come on Jake, you should really come inside,” she pouted seductively.
“We live in the rain; we have to ride out the storm.” Kansas’ words echoed in his head.
Jake stepped back out into the harsh light of the hallway. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…I can’t, I’m sorry. Goodnight.”
He quickly made his escape down the dark stairwell and out into the fresh night air. One more footstep, just one more step, and he would’ve betrayed Kansas, and his love for her. His mind reeled. He had been so close. A part of him had wanted to go in so badly. How he craved to be touched by a woman, to be kissed, to be needed again. Parts of him stirred thinking of that pink silk robe. His imagination betrayed him, taunting him with images of her skin, and hot kisses. Jake sat in his car wondering how he had gotten here. As if it were a magic talisman that could keep his fantasies at bay, he put his wedding ring back on. The lump that was in his throat grew larger; he shook his head wondering what he would say when he got home. Should he tell her what he almost did? Perhaps it was the wake-up call they needed, to get their marriage back on track. Maybe she didn’t realize how close to the edge they were. Jake scoffed bitterly. How could she not know? Making love was now just a memory. She seldom kissed him anymore.
“We don’t live in the rain; we live in a never-ending shit-storm.” His bitterness suddenly overwhelmed him. The darkened house appeared much too soon. “Couldn’t even wait up for me.” He stomped up the driveway, cursing under his breath. Why he had chosen to come home now eluded him. Right now he could have been with Erica. He could’ve felt warmth and passion, but he had come home to a cold dark house instead. Not completely dark, one room had the light on, the room he had come to loathe.
Chapter 2
Spatters of blue paint were caked in her chestnut brown hair, the room was nearly done. The whites of Kansas’ eyes were lined with varying shades of red. Her shoulders sagged, each stroke up and down sent a sharp pain shooting to the small of her back. The tarp covering the newly laid white carpet was littered with brushes, paint rollers, and an array of animal-shaped stencils. She glanced down at her watch, Jake was late as usual. Moonlight was just starting to climb in the window, casting a faint glow around the room. Kansas cocked her head to the side, studying the silver beam that seemed to hold the crib in its ethereal gaze. She blinked her eyes, and the room was once again dark and painfully empty. The silence was deafening. It was if the room had never held the sounds of joy or sadness. It was just dead. Kansas uncovered the white-wooden crib. She ran her fingers along the grain of the wood feeling the tiny imperfections as she let out a sigh. White to blue, that was all she could think about, she had to make the white go away, and the walls had to be blue. Kansas clenched a pencil between her teeth as she pressed the bunny stencil to the wall. Headlights flooded the room with blinding white light. The furniture beneath the protective cloths took on a jagged and slightly ominous feel under its harsh stare. Kansas tensed at the sound of a car door slamming, but she would not stop working.
Jake leaned just inside of the doorframe, “Hey.”
“Hi”
“Shouldn’t you take a break?”
“No, I have to keep working.”
“Have you eaten anything?”
“Wasn’t hungry.”
“You need to eat.”
“I don’t have time.”
Jake crossed the threshold, into Kansas’ line of sight. His clothes were slightly rumpled. The silk-green tie hung loosely around his neck. Deep pits of black lay under his eyes; his mouth was drawn tightly across his handsome, but weathered face. He approached Kansas tentatively, as if he was approaching a cornered animal.
“You need to stop.” He took one step closer to her. Impulsively he wanted to take her in his arms; he wanted to fix her, to make the pain stop. There were so many things he could give her, but he couldn’t give her this. He wanted his wife, his best friend back, but she seemed to have faded away.
Kansas dunked her paint brush in the bucket and brushed up and down, up and down, manically.
“Stop.”
Her shoulders trembled, sobs wracked her chest. Jake stepped closer placing his hand on her shoulder. How he longed to hear her musical almost child-like laughter ringing through the house. Laughter, smiles in fact seemed to die on her lips before they could even begin. He was her husband; he had to save her from this agony.
She jolted at his touch. Kansas spun around to face him. Her eyes contained, not a hint of the sparkle that drew him to her; as the ocean draws the tide. Her pupils were solid black, and the once brilliant emerald faded to a dull ordinary green. Happy was not a word he would use to describe her, the only word that seemed appropriate was hollow.
“I can’t” she shrugged his hand away. She bent down to put the paint brush in the bucket. Jake grabbed her wrist gently, but firmly. He had to end the madness; her obsession would not change anything, anything but herself. He could see it eating away her insides, like an invisible cancer, her desire had carved her into the sharp wide-eyed creature that stood before him. Their once beautiful dream had chipped away at her soul one piece at a time, until there was almost nothing left but a hollow shell. He was her husband. He couldn’t let that happen. Tonight was the night he would rip her from desire’s razor claws.
“No.”
“Let go,” She yelled in his face. Why didn’t he understand she had to finish the room? She had to make the white walls blue, she just had to. Why couldn’t he understand her? Kansas gripped the paintbrush tighter, so tight she tiny wood splinters pierced her skin.
“No.” His voice was calm and soft. A sharp pain wrenched his stomach, his blue eyes set in determination.
Kansas jerked her arm away spraying the room and Jake with spatters of baby blue paint.
“See what you did!” She shrieked pointing at the white crib, that was now marred with tiny blue dots of paint.
Kansas slid to the floor clinging to the rails of the crib; she pressed her forehead against the wood, sobbing violently until she collapsed in a heap.
Jake knelt down behind her and cradled her in his arms. He stroked her paint-stained hair, rocking her gently whispering, “It’s okay, I’m here.”
It was the first time she had let him hold her since he couldn’t remember when. Holding her was like breathing, it felt so natural so right. Her hair was an absolute mess, and he had never seen her look more ragged, but to him she was beautiful. The distance that had been pushing them further and further apart seemed to diminish. He treasured every tear he wiped away, every cry of anguish he was able to quell.
She clung to him, and let herself be comforted. He kissed her temple, holding her body against his, rubbing her arms.
“You can’t do this anymore Kay” He tilted her chin, so that their eyes met. “I can’t do this anymore…” Emotion flooded his voice drowning his words, “I can’t watch you…anymore.” He choked out.
Kansas felt the floor drop out from below her. She looked behind her to make sure he was still there, because it felt like he was gone. “What are you saying?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She thought he understood, finally understood, but now just like that he was killing her dream.
“I don’t want…to try…anymore.” The words spilled out of his mouth. He couldn’t lie anymore. The very thought of smiling and uttering “It will happen for us. This time it will work, it will be alright. We’ll have our baby” broke his heart, no more lies of hope. He couldn’t do it anymore.
Kansas freed herself from his no longer comforting embrace. She walked away from him towards the paint bucket. “What about our family?” The taunting voice of her mother entered Kansas’ head, “He’ll leave, and then what will you be left with? Children are the only source of true unconditional love…”
“We are a family…Aren’t I enough?”Jake’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“No,” was the silent answer she longed to say to her mother, and it was true now, he wasn’t enough anymore. How dare he take away her chance for a family? Betrayal was the only word that was emblazoned on her mind. Flashes of white hot-light blinded her vision. The blue walls suddenly went red. Her hand clenched in a fist, grabbing the metal handle of the paint bucket, she screamed and threw it at the wall.
Jake sprang to his feet. “Christ! Kay, what do you want from me? I can’t take this kind of pain anymore, I just can’t…You can’t ask me too.” Her silence stung him more than her sudden violence. All he had ever done was love her with his whole heart, and still it wasn’t enough for her.
“But you can ask me to?” The thought of sleeping in the same bed with him made her nauseous. Happiness was being ripped from her hands by a man that claimed to love her.
“I can’t watch you lose a baby again, and you can’t either…” Flashes of a hospital wing full of new parents beaming and taking photos of their babies ripped through his thoughts. Sounds of joy and laughter, the smells of baby powder, and an overall newness tormented him. Then there was the green curtain that separated them, where the only sounds were the sobs coming from Kansas and the breaking of his heart. He knew they would never be on the other side of that curtain, and to hope for anything else was masochistic torture. Torture he didn’t have the strength to endure.
“I can handle it.” Baby feet, and baby fingers, and the smells of babies flooded her mind. She imagined herself holding her baby, kissing her baby. The pain would be worth it in the end.
“Maybe…but I can’t…I love you too much.” Jake reached for her hand. She swatted it away. The thought of his touch reviled her. Kansas looked over her shoulder as she left the room.
“You don’t love me enough.” Her icy words stung him, left him numb.
Jake stared at the unfinished nursery wall smothered in baby-blue paint. His anger was only exceeded by his pain. Their bedroom door was locked. He went to the linen closet for a blanket and the kitchen pantry for a drink. Jake lay awake on the hard sofa, sipping his drink; while Kansas sobbed in the much too soft bed. They had never been further apart.
Kansas sobbed into her pillow. How could she let him go to bed thinking he wasn’t enough for her? That he didn’t love her enough? Jake had always loved her with his whole heart. He made her laugh and he had held her when she cried. He was everything, but cruelly she answered his question with silence. “What’s wrong with me?” She cried to her pillow. All she wanted now was to be in his arms again, her eyes stared at the door. All she had to do was unlock the door and she knew he would forgive her. They would get past this, somehow. Kansas only needed to unlock the door.
Chapter Three
Infomercials promising instant wealth and happiness flashed on the TV.
“In only two months I made 40,000 dollars!” A happy blonde woman proclaimed. “Last year, we made our second million.” An elderly couple grinned plastically, “And you can too.”
Jake clicked the TV off. He wasn’t interested in phony get rich-quick schemes. He stared at the ceiling, studying the various lines and squiggles, but not thinking about them at all. “You’re not enough for me.” Though she hadn’t spoken the words, her silence had said it all. Several drinks of vodka with vodka would not make her words fade, rather it made everything else hazy, but her words were clear, “You don’t love me enough.” Knowing sleep was impossible, he walked to the nursery, or rather the room that was supposed to be a nursery. He flipped on the light, and was immediately assaulted by the splashes of blue paint.
“Christ, I’m gonna have to wallpaper over this mess, no way I can paint over it.” He mumbled examining the wall. The room still harbored the anguish from their latest fight, “If these walls could talk…” he scoffed. “I don’t want to hear what they have to say.” He slid down the wall, until he met the floor. The glass bottle was still in his hand. His lips pursed as he took a swig from it. Across the hall their bedroom door remained closed. He thought about knocking, begging her to let him in, but he was tired. Tired of her shutting him out, everyman had his breaking point.
Kansas pressed herself against the door, putting her hand to the wood, as if she could feel its heartbeat. She couldn’t, it was just an ordinary wooden door. But, then why couldn’t she unlock it? Why was this such a definitive divider; between them? What was stopping her, if not the door?
Jake hammered the lid back on the paint can. The loud bang-bang thundered through-out the entire house, if Kansas had been asleep, the intruding sound would surely rouse her from it. He gathered up the stencils of bunnies, and birds and dumped them in the kitchen trash. The turpentine burned his nostrils as he scrubbed out the paint brushes. Streams of blue paint spiraled down the drain, until at last the water ran clean. Sweat poured down his brow, he used the bottom of his tee-shirt to wipe it away. The tarps were neatly folded, put away in the garage, all that remained was to move the crib out into the garage, and he would take it to goodwill in the morning. Surely some happy couple would have use for a blue-dotted crib.
The red-alarm clock numbers read 3:22 am, and sleep had not visited her. She threw off the floral-patterned comforter, and placed her feet on the floor. Even in the darkness of the room she could see the door, light peeped from underneath its base. Jake must be awake too.
“What the hell did you do?” Her voice startled him from his current task of cleaning up the room.
Even in his slightly fuzzy state of mind he could see the fury in her eyes.
“I cleaned up.” He said shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. All her desire to forgive and go to bed in his arms evaporated. She bit her tongue so hard it almost bled. Her eyes narrowed, she could feel the rage boiling inside.
Jake braced himself after seven years of marriage he knew when she was about to explode.
“Where’s the bassinet?”
“Does it matter?” The sting of her words from earlier leeched venom into his, “Not like we need one”
“I sacrificed everything for us for you, so we could have our family.”
“I never asked you to quit your job, I never asked you to be Suzy-homemaker.”
“And now after all my sacrifice…
“What about my sacrifice, huh? Do you ever think about what I had to give up Kay? Do you think I work overtime and come home late every night because I like it? No, in fact I fuck-ing hate it, but I did it so you could stay home on bed rest, but you know what, it didn’t work we lost the baby! I’ll tell you what you sacrificed Kay.”
He gripped her arms tightly, and brought his eyes to hers, “You sacrificed our love.” he let go of her and walked away, leaving her stunned.
Kansas stood still frozen to the spot. Her knees buckled and she crumpled to the floor. She rocked herself steadily back and forth.
He felt her body slide in next to his. “I’m sorry.” She whispered in his ear. “I do love you,” she meant to say, but didn’t. Silence was the only thing on her tongue, and it was all Jake heard. He wanted to turn to her, stroke her beautiful face and kiss her nose tell her that he was sorry, he didn’t mean what he said. The impulse to wrap his arms around her waist and nuzzle the back of her neck was strong, but her silence told him he had gone too far. If she had touched him, or even sighed aloud it would’ve given him the encouragement that he needed. Kansas stared at the blurry door through her tears; she bit her lower lip knowing that so much more than a door separated her from Jake.
Chapter Four
The kitchen’s loud popsicle-orange walls assaulted his head. Two aspirin and black coffee were not enough to keep the orange at bay. Light darted through the window, bounced off the cold tiles and blinded him. The pounding drums in his head only added to the ambient charm of the kitchen. Sunlight bounced off wine-glasses and bounded around the room chaotically, but always returned to stare into his eyes. She scraped the spatula against the iron skillet, the repugnant aroma of eggs wrapped around him. The bacon popped and sizzled, and made his stomach turn. He could taste stale vodka in the back of his mouth when he swallowed. She kept her eyes on the eggs, they were overcooked and rubbery. Martha Stewart and Betty Crocker she was not. Jake sniffed the air loudly, “Eggs are burning.”
Kansas slammed a plate down in front of him, and more or less dumped the eggs on his plate.
“Eat.”
“I’m not hungry. I feel sick.”
“Fine” The skillet sizzled when cold water drops hit it in the sink.
“Thanks though.” He squinted against the harsh morning light. Jake wondered if his eyes were as bloodshot as hers.
“What are you going to do today?” Fork tines scraping the plate assaulted her ears, as Jake scraped his eggs into the trash.
Kansas looked out the window, staring at the leaves. She loved fall, how trees once uniform in color suddenly developed fascinating varieties. As if one day the trees decided to be unique from each other. Foliage changing color, she knew the science of it, but it was much more fun to imagine a group of trees standing around and deciding to be different, to change. There was a particularly brilliant orange-leaved tree in the backyard this year; she called it her flame-tree. It was sad to think that as unique and beautiful as the tree was now, in the winter it would be the same again. There would be nothing special setting it apart; it would be barren, no different from the other trees. She wondered if love was like that, beautiful and unique at first, but then cold and dead, nothing special left.
“I’m leaving.” Her tone told him, she wasn’t leaving to go to the store. She was leaving, leaving.
“Kay?” What more could he say. He had no words; they had both said too many words, and not any of the right ones.
“I’m going to stay with Sybil for a bit.” Her back faced him; she was still staring out that damn window.
“You can’t even look at me now?” Jake shoved his papers into his briefcase, leaving his dishes on the table.
“Fine. Whatever you think is best.” He gulped down the last of his coffee, slamming the mug down on the table. “I’ll be late.” He rushed towards the door.
“Jake.” She called to him, not wanting him to leave this way. “I’ll call you.”
He waved slamming the door behind him. Kansas finally looked away from the window, a leaf from her flame-tree gently floated to the ground. Soon it would be an ordinary tree, with no flames dancing upon its branches, only the cold wintery air.
Chapter five
Forgiveness arrived on the snowflakes of early December. Kansas was finally ready to let go of her dream of a baby. It wasn’t going to happen for them. She had finally made her peace with that. A basket of rose petals hung on her arm. She put the champagne on ice. A romantic evening together would be the perfect way to start over. A noise, more accurately a laugh drew her to their bedroom. The door was slightly askew. She pushed it all the way open. A pink robe was draped over the bed post.
Jake disentangled himself from pale-scissor like legs. A scattering of red drew his eyes to the floor. Deep burgundy flower petals lay in a heap at the bedroom door. He picked one up. It was soft against his skin. He inhaled deeply discovering the identity of the flower. Kansas loved Roses.
“Shit.” He tasted the word as he said it. He paced back and forth on the cold tiles in the kitchen. A bottle of champagne soaked in water. One or two stray chunks of slushy ice floated on the surface. Jake reached out for the bottle. The glass was warm under his fingertips. Kansas was long gone by now.
A shower of red rose petals fell to the floor. Tears blurred her vision. She bit her lip replaying the scene in her mind over and over again. Sybil’s kitchen was nothing like her kitchen. It was austere and under-decorated. Kansas stared out Sybil’s kitchen window. White powdery snow blanketed the ground; icicles adorned the branches of the trees. The thermostat was cranked, but nothing could melt the block of ice that encased her heart. She adjusted the sleeves of her cranberry sweater, and fidgeted with her wedding ring. She chided herself for being so stupid, and cursed his name silently under her breath. Kansas hadn’t been home in a week; more precisely she hadn’t been home since she had caught Jake in their bed with her. The hot cozy chamomile tea did nothing to soothe her nerves, as the box promised. Though she could hardly expect an herbal tea to fix a broken heart, let alone calm her down. All she could think about other than Jake’s betrayal was her flame-tree. Month’s ago fall had ended, extinguishing the beauty of the fiery leaves that danced on its branches. Now it was just a tree barren, and empty, like everything else.

“I remember the first time I saw her. God, she was gorgeous, and I don’t think she even really knew it you know? She just had this, I don’t know what it was exactly, but she just had it.” He titled the brown-neck bottle back and gulped. “When I finally admitted to myself I was in love with her…it hit me like a ton of bricks. Believe me, I hadn’t planned on getting married and having a family.” His green eyes shifted downward. “Though, I guess the family part didn’t exactly work out.”
He chuckled slightly, raising his beer, “Marriage hasn’t exactly worked out either. The thing that gets me is that she was just waiting for an excuse to leave. I just gave her what she wanted. Hell, maybe I was lonely. She was long gone before I screwed Erica. I guess I was making it official. You know?” Jake set down the empty beer and pulled out his wallet. “You see, damn she’s still gorgeous.” He pointed to a picture of a woman in his wallet. “I still love her. This time give me a shot of whiskey.” He smiled stroking the woman’s face. “Gorgeous, and smart too.” He snapped his wallet abruptly and shoved it in his back pocket. “I’m glad she caught me.” He swirled the amber-colored liquid in the glass before knocking it back. “She gives a damn. If she didn’t love me, she wouldn’t be pissed, right?” He held up his hand signaling for another drink. “It’s been same damn thing, like she doesn’t trust me, like I’m gonna leave.” He flung his arm, sloshing whiskey on the bar. “Like I’m cheating. I wasn’t then. I was there damn it. I wanted a baby too, I wanted be dad. I’d been a gr-eat dad. I’d tuck ‘em in night. Kiss foreheads. I’d play ball.” He slammed back another shot, and signaled for more. “I couldn’t anymore, too hard. Killing her, couldn’t let it anymore you know?” His speech slurred as he tossed back another shot. “Ki-lledme too. Shees gonne. I wassn’t nough fur er..” He chuckled to himself, as he twisted off his gold band.
He dropped it in his shot glass, “Ta Lo-ove” Jake toasted, before falling off his barstool. He lay on his back watching the room spin. “Lo-v-e dieshin sparing” he repeated the words his mother-in-law had said. He covered his face with his hands and blacked out.
Chapter six
His hands were shaking; buttering his bread seemed an impossible task under her medusa gaze. More than once he felt like dumping the water glass over his head. He had rehearsed what he would say so many times in his head, and now it was finally time to speak them aloud…to her. His throat was hot and scratchy, the burgundy wine offered little relief. Every time he tried to speak, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth; he was perpetually eating the world’s biggest wad of peanut butter; except the peanut butter was really his own fear, a fear that he just couldn’t swallow. Jake knew she was waiting, he could tell by the way she was constantly clearing her throat. Louder and louder each time.
“The steak is excellent here, but everything is good.” He finally managed to spit out.
She arched one eyebrow, but simply nodded and resumed her careful study of the menu, as if it held some secret to be discovered.
A simple “Yes” or “Really?” or even an “Mmh” was preferred over icy silence.
Jake readjusted his sport coat and fidgeted with his tie.
“You shouldn’t fidget Jacob.” She said looking down her nose from behind the menu.
“Sorry, old habits.”
“Mmph.” contempt tugged at the corners of her mouth, but social grace pulled her lips all the way to a polite plastic smile.
Jake wiped his brow with the red cloth napkin. He toyed with dipping it in his ice-water, but could only imagine her reaction to that. Mercifully the waiter arrived and took their orders.
She watched him, more than that she studied his every move, from behind her wall. The waiter arriving so soon was most unwelcome.
Now she would be forced to engage in the most loathsome form of communication known to her; small talk. She pretended to listen as he droned on about some mundane thing. The restaurant was full of happy couples, both young and old. She sipped her wine tasting only the bitterness of the grapes used to make it. A faint sweetness teased her tongue, but the bitterness dominated the overall taste and she savored it.
“Don’t you think it’s interesting that in order to make such a desired libation, that the fruit has to be stomped, utterly destroyed? Not unlike love, eh Jacob?”
Her sudden appearance in the conversation startled Jake out of his monotone monologue about work. “I uh…what was the question?”
Her long delicate fingers wrapped around the stem of the wineglass, she swirled the red liquid around, more interested in its possible response than his.
Jake tried to think of something witty or engaging to say, anything to break the tension. Tension so apparent, that he could swear the waiter shivered when he stepped within the tiny atmosphere of their table.
The sound of silverware scraping on plates, and the ever so subtle sound of food chewing, was a welcome break from the inane chatter and her constant clearing of her throat. The plates had been cleared away, the waiter buzzed by more frequently, probably hoping for a large tip. The coffee and pie that set before him was reminiscent of a last meal before meeting the executioner, but in his case the executioner was sitting across from him, daintily eating cheesecake. This was it, his one shot, he finally had her here. Months of cancelled plans, weeks of this or that coming up, days of excuses, and he finally had his moment all he had to do was ask. He thought of her warm smile, cute chubby fingers, her laughter, and the warmth he felt every time he looked at her. She was sitting next to him whispering in his ear, squeezing his arm, playfully tousling his hair. He swallowed his fear, and focused on the image of Kansas, his Kansas. Jake blinked twice and she was gone, but her mother was not.
“Beatrice…I…obviously you know there was a reason I wanted to have dinner with you…I mean…There is something I need to ask you…I…I love your daughter and I want to make her happy and…”
“No.”
“I’m sorry?”
“No, you don’t have my blessing. That’s what you wanted right?”
“But, you barely know me and I haven’t even told you…”
“What is there to tell? You’ll break her heart Jacob. You’ll leave, everyone does.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know enough. I’m not saying I don’t believe you love her, I do, but that’s not enough Jacob.”
“Love is always enough Ms. Crawford.”
“Tell that to any one of the people I see on a regular basis, to the wives that issue restraining orders on their husbands, husbands that end up killing them, because they loved them so much. Or to a poor kid who just wants to be loved, but their parents love drugs and themselves more.”
“I’m not talking about your job, or society. I’m talking about me and Kansas, and what we have is real…I swear to God I love her…more than anything else on earth…and if you…
“Love dies in Spring Jacob.” She said drinking the last of the wine down.
Jake sat in stunned silence, left with only his thoughts and a stained-red ring on the once pure-white table cloth.
Jake lay on the dirty floor of the bar, “Love dies in spring…damn it Beatrice, you were right.”

We live in the rain…

“It will happen for us. We just have to wait, and be patient.” Jake squeezed her hand as they walked out of the doctor’s office. The results had been less than promising.
“I know, it will. It just won’t happen today, but maybe tomorrow.” She smiled at him, that smile could still melt his heart. The car ride home was unusually quiet. Perhaps she was lost in her own thoughts; maybe she was hiding how she really felt. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her staring out the window. The silence in the car was uncomfortable, he preferred anything to silence. He switched on the radio, she shot him the look, and he turned it off.
“Thanks.” She smiled gratefully. She knew silence irked him, but music wouldn’t let her hear her thoughts. The past hour had passed in a fog. All the large vocabulary that spewed from the doctor was still tangled in her thoughts. Her smooth brow wrinkled, while she tried to untie the knots. She could get pregnant, she had heard that much, but it wouldn’t be easy, and wasn’t guaranteed. Kansas bit her lip trying to imagine her life without the one thing she wanted more than anything.
Jake seemed to be hypnotized by the road, and she worried if he was paying attention at all. Her hand slipped into his, fingers entwined. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” He was grateful for her words, it eased his mind. A part of him felt incredibly guilty, like it was his fault conception would be next to impossible. The words of the doctor sat on his shoulder whispering in his ear taunting him, telling him he wasn’t a real man that he had failed as a husband. Faith was not something he possessed an over-abundance of. Life for him consisted of straight lines, angles, symmetry, and order if he allowed any recklessness then a building would never rise. Kansas would chide him and remind him of Frank Lloyd Wright, a truly innovative architect, one who Jake greatly admired, but didn’t strive to be. Kansas was the dreamer, and if it weren’t for her, he felt like he would drown in a sea of blue –prints and rulers, she brought disorder to his otherwise mundane existence. The order and harsh realist philosophy he built his so called ‘faith’ on told him the ugly truth, he would never father a child. The doctor hadn’t said that, but the statistics had been enough to condemn him. He had to believe that it would happen, for her sake he had to believe, and try to put some faith in faith.
“What are you thinking?” She interrupted his thoughts.
“I’ve got a design due next Thursday.” He lied.
“Oh, I thought maybe you were thinking about, our test results.”
“No.” She could tell by his tone, work was probably the last thing on his mind, but if he wouldn’t talk about it, she wouldn’t force him.

It was a month later, and only the weather had changed. They walked out of the Doctor’s office disappointment followed on their heels, the insemination had failed. “I’m sure we’ll have better luck next time.” Jake encircled his arm around her waist, bringing her close to him. He was running out of things to say, there was nothing he could say to ease the heartbreak. Month after month of seeing little pieces of Kansas stripped away, was his own private hell. He suffered in silence, afraid to tell her what he was thinking, afraid of hurting her more.
“It’s raining.”
“We can wait till it lets up, or I’ll go get the car, and you can stay here.”
“I like the rain.”
Jake grinned remembering the first time they had made love. “I know you do, but we’re older now.”
“Yeah, but no wiser” She drug him out into the downpour, clearly enjoying herself. The cold bit into him, all the way down to the bone, he had no idea what thrilled her so.
“Isn’t it invigorating?” She shouted throwing her hands to the sky. A peal of thunder rang out, warning Jake to get inside. “I think we should get to the car, before it starts storming.” The blackening clouds hung ominously above their heads. “Come on Kay, we need to get home.”
“We are home. Don’t you know we live in the rain?”
“What? I’m soaked, and you want to get philosophical on me? Come on Kay!”
She cupped his face in her hands, looking through his blue eyes into his soul. A smile spread across his face, “Why do we live in the rain?” She seemed her old self, his crazy girl, and he couldn’t stay mad for long.
“Because, right now we’re going through a rough patch, like a storm, and it seems hopeless, but the thing you have to remember is what happens.” Her voice was hushed almost reverential.
“I don’t understand.”
“The rain, it gives life, makes things stronger.” She took his hand and pressed it against her belly. “It makes things grow.” Jake couldn’t tell if raindrops or tears were running down her face.
He kissed her forehead, “God, I love you.”
“Jake, it will happen for us, we just have to ride out the storm.”

The memory faded away, he tried to hang on to it, to hang on to that feeling that made him love her, but it was gone. He knocked softly on the apartment door, fluorescent lighting angrily bounced off his wedding ring. The band easily pulled off his finger, too easy as if was never bound to him. She answered the door in a pink silk robe. Kansas hated pink. Her long well manicured nails tapped on the door frame.
“Well are you going to come inside?” Her question seemed straight-forward enough, but everything that she said seemed to contain innuendo.
“I don’t know.”
“Ah, come on Jake, you should really come inside.” She pouted seductively.
“We live in the rain; we have to ride out the storm.” Kansas’ words echoed in his head.
Jake stepped back out into the harsh light of the hallway. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…I can’t, I’m sorry. Goodnight.”
He quickly made his escape down the dark stairwell, and out into the fresh night air. One more footstep, just one more step, and he would’ve betrayed Kansas, and his love for her. His mind reeled, he had been so close. A part of him had wanted to go in so badly. How he craved to be touched by a woman, to be kissed, to be needed again. To want to be with him, just to be with him. Parts of him stirred thinking of that pink silk robe. His imagination betrayed him, taunting him with images of her skin, and hot kisses. Jake sat in his car wondering how he had gotten here. As if it were a magic talisman that could keep his fantasies at bay, he put his wedding ring back on. The lump that was in his throat grew larger; he shook his head wondering what he would say when he got home. Should he tell her what he almost did? Perhaps it was the wake-up call they needed, to get their marriage back on track. Maybe she didn’t realize how close to the edge they were. Jake scoffed bitterly, how could she not know? Making love was now just a memory, she seldom kissed him anymore.
“We don’t live in the rain; we live in a never-ending shit-storm.” His bitterness suddenly overwhelmed him. The darkened house appeared much too soon. “Couldn’t even wait up for me” he stomped up the driveway, cursing under his breath. Why he had chosen to come home now eluded him. Right now he could have been with Erica, he could’ve felt warmth and passion, but he had come home to a cold dark house instead.

The flame-tree

The kitchen’s loud popsicle-orange walls assaulted his head. Two aspirin and black coffee were not enough to keep the orange at bay. Light darted through the window, bounced off the cold tiles and blinded him. The pounding drums in his head only added to the ambient charm of the kitchen. Sunlight bounced off wine-glasses and bounded around the room chaotically, but always returned to stare into his eyes. She scraped the spatula against the iron skillet, the repugnant aroma of eggs wrapped around him. The bacon popped and sizzled, and made his stomach turn. He could taste stale vodka in the back of his mouth when he swallowed. She kept her eyes on the eggs, they were overcooked and rubbery. Martha Stewart and Betty Crocker she was not. Jake sniffed the air loudly, “Eggs are burning.”
Kansas slammed a plate down in front of him, and more or less dumped the eggs on his plate.
“Eat.”
“I’m not hungry. I feel sick.”
“Fine” The skillet sizzled when cold water drops hit it in the sink.
“Thanks though.” He squinted against the harsh morning light. Jake wondered if his eyes were as bloodshot as hers.
“What are you going to do today?” Fork tines scraping the plate assaulted her ears, as Jake scraped his eggs into the trash.
Kansas looked out the window, staring at the leaves. She loved fall, how trees once uniform in color suddenly developed fascinating varieties. As if one day the trees decided to be unique from each other. Foliage changing color, she knew the science of it, but it was much more fun to imagine a group of trees standing around and deciding to be different, to change. There was a particularly brilliant orange-leaved tree in the backyard this year; she called it her flame-tree. It was sad to think that as unique and beautiful as the tree was now, in the winter it would be the same again. There would be nothing special setting it apart; it would be barren, no different from the other trees. She wondered if love was like that, beautiful and unique at first, but then cold and dead, nothing special left.
“I’m leaving.” Her tone told him, she wasn’t leaving to go to the store. She was leaving, leaving.
“Kay?” What more could he say. He had no words; they had both said too many words, and not any of the right ones.
“I’m going to stay with Sybil for a bit.” Her back faced him; she was still staring out that damn window.
“You can’t even look at me now?” Jake shoved his papers into his briefcase, leaving his dishes on the table.
“Fine. Whatever you think is best.” He gulped down the last of his coffee, slamming the mug down on the table. “I’ll be late.” He rushed towards the door.
“Jake.” She called to him, not wanting him to leave this way. “I’ll call you.”
He waved slamming the door behind him. Kansas finally looked away from the window, a leaf from her flame-tree gently floated to the ground. Soon it would be an ordinary tree, with no flames dancing upon its branches, only the cold wintery air.

The door

Kansas sobbed into her pillow. How could she let him go to bed thinking he wasn’t enough for her? That he didn’t love her enough? Jake had always loved her with his whole heart, he made her laugh and he had held her when she cried, he was everything, but cruelly she answered his question with silence. “What’s wrong with me?” She cried to her pillow. All she wanted now was to be in his arms again, her eyes stared at the door. All she had to do was unlock the door and she knew he would forgive her. They would get past this, somehow. Kansas only needed to unlock the door.
Infomercials promising instant wealth and happiness flashed on the tv.
“ In only two months I made 40,000 dollars!” A happy blonde woman proclaimed. “Last year, we made our second million.” An elderly couple grinned plastically, “And you can too.”
Jake clicked the tv off. He wasn’t interested in phony get rich-quick schemes. He stared at the ceiling, studying the various lines and squiggles, but not thinking about them at all. “You’re not enough for me.” Though she hadn’t spoken the words, her silence had said It all. Several drinks of vodka with vodka would not make her words fade, rather it made everything else hazy, but her words were clear, “You don’t love me enough.” Knowing sleep was impossible, he walked to the nursery, or rather the room that was supposed to be a nursery. He flipped on the light, and was immediately assaulted by the splashes of blue paint.
“Christ, I’m gonna have to wallpaper over this mess, no way I can paint over it.” He mumbled examining the wall. The room still harbored the anguish from their latest fight, “If these walls could talk..” he scoffed. “I don’t want to hear what they have to say.” He slid down the wall, until he met the floor. The glass bottle was still in his hand. His lips pursed as he took a swig from it. Across the hall their bedroom door remained closed. He thought about knocking, begging her to let him in, but he was tired. Tired of her shutting him out, everyman had his breaking point.
Kansas pressed herself against the door, putting her hand to the wood, as if she could feel its heartbeat. She couldn’t, it was just an ordinary wooden door. But, then why couldn’t she unlock it? Why was this such a definitive divider; between them? What was stopping her, if not the door?
Jake hammered the lid back on the paint can. The loud bang-bang thundered through-out the entire house, if Kansas had been asleep, the intruding sound would surely rouse her from it. He gathered up the stencils of bunnies, and birds and dumped them in the kitchen trash. The turpentine burned his nostrils as he scrubbed out the paint brushes. Streams of blue paint spiraled down the drain, until at last the water ran clean. Sweat poured down his brow, he used the bottom of his tee-shirt to wipe it away. The tarps were neatly folded, put away in the garage, all that remained was to move the crib out into the garage, and he would take it to goodwill in the morning. Surely some happy couple would have use for a blue-dotted crib.
The red-alarm clock numbers read 3:22 am, and sleep had not visited her. She threw off the floral-patterned comforter, and placed her feet on the floor. Even in the darkness of the room she could see the door, light peeped from underneath its base. Jake must be awake too.
“What the hell did you do?” Her voice startled him from his current task of cleaning up the room.
Even in his slightly fuzzy state of mind he could see the fury in her eyes.
“I cleaned up.” He said shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. All her desire to forgive and go to bed in his arms evaporated, she bit her tongue so hard it almost bled. Her eyes narrowed, she could feel the rage boiling inside.
Jake braced himself after seven years of marriage he knew when she was about to explode.
“Where’s the bassinet?”
“Does it matter?” The sting of her words from earlier leeched venom into his own, “Not like we need one”
“I sacrificed everything for us for you, so we could have our family.”
“I never asked you to quit your job, I never asked you to be Suzy-homemaker.”
“And now after all my sacrifice…

“What about my sacrifice, huh? Do you ever think about what I had to give up Kay? Do you think I work overtime and come home late every night because I like it? No, in fact I fuck-ing hate it, but I did it so you could stay home on bedrest, but you know what, it didn’t work we lost the baby! I’ll tell you what you sacrificed Kay.”
He gripped her arms tightly, and brought his eyes to hers, “You sacrificed our love.” he let go of her and walked away, leaving her stunned.
Kansas stood still frozen to the spot. Her knees buckled and she crumpled to the floor. She rocked herself steadily back and forth.
He felt her body slide in next to his. “I’m sorry.” She whispered in his ear. “I do love you,” she meant to say, but didn’t. Silence was the only thing on her tongue, and it was all Jake heard. He wanted to turn to her, stroke her beautiful face and kiss her nose tell her that he was sorry, he didn’t mean what he said. The impulse to wrap his arms around her waist and nuzzle the back of her neck was strong, but her silence told him he had gone too far. If she had touched him, or even sighed aloud it would’ve given him the encouragement that he needed. Kansas stared at the blurry door through her tears; she bit her lower lip knowing that so much more than a door separated her from Jake.

Nothing but the rain

“I hate my fingers.” Kansas held them up for him to see.
“I love your hands.” Jake caressed her hand kissing her fingertips.
“They’re so chubby and short, like baby fingers, not like my mother’s” She leaned against him, letting her head rest on his chest. “Her fingers are delicate and long, perfect for playing the piano.” A sigh escaped her.
“Did you want to play piano?” He entwined his fingers with hers. She cocked her head to the side thinking about it. “Not really, but that didn’t stop my mom from giving me lessons.”
Jake rolled his eyes, “Nice.” Kansas leaned up, turning to face him. “My mom was the best, and I love her.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it…I’m sorry okay?” She relaxed and settled back down into his arms.
“Don’t you love that sound?”
“What sound?”
“The rain,”
“I didn’t even notice it.” Jake rolled down the window of his 1985 cavalier. The scent of fresh rain rushed into the car. Kansas inhaled deeply letting the purity fill her.
The rain poured steadily, pulling a gossamer curtain on the night. Everything was glistening with tiny beaded droplets of water. Even the stars seemed to shine brighter.
“Let’s dance.”
“Are you crazy? It’s pouring out there, and it’s not exactly hot outside”
“Weenie!” Kansas sprang from the car into the wet night.
Jake watched her from the car spellbound; he had never seen anyone so beautiful in his entire life. The moon bathed her browned skin in silver. There was something ethereal about that moment; the heavens transformed the rain into precious jewels that it laid at her feet, as a token of love. The only word Jake could think of to describe her at that moment was joyful. She lifted her arms up to the sky and spun around in wild circles her musical laughter joining the chorus of the crickets and cicadas.
She returned to the car soaked to her very skin. Strands of chestnut hair were plastered to her face, her cotton green tee-shirt was nearly soaked through; Jake could clearly see the outline of her bra peeping through. Black lines of mascara stained her cheeks, and her lipstick had faded away. Her emerald eyes sparkled with delight. Kansas gathered her hair in a makeshift pony-tail, and began twisting to wring the water out.
“Why didn’t you dance with me?” She stuck out her lower lip and made the saddest eyes she could.
Jake smiled revealing his slightly crooked teeth. She loved his smile so much; she loved how imperfect he perfectly was for her. His blue eyes made her knees weak, every time she stared into them she would get lost. Sapphire blue, ocean blue, sea blue, she could never find the perfect way to describe his eyes.
“I will now.” He reached out and held her hand. Stepping back out into the rain, and hearing only the beat of her heart. Jake led her around to the back of the car. He wasn’t overly muscular, but he wasn’t weak either, and he lifted her on top of the trunk easily. Blood rushed to her head, her breathe hung in thick clouds in the cold night air. His face was so near to hers, his lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “I love you.”
She draped her arms around his neck, “I know.” Her smile was radiant, igniting a flame in his heart. The rain fell down all around them, peals of thunder rolled through the empty park, streaks of lighting danced across the sky. Skin on skin and lips to lips, and soul to soul that was the real storm. His heart thundered with every breath, every kiss he loved her more. Jake worshiped her with his eyes, giving sacrament with his lips. Every touch a vow made a promise of what was to come. Stars were exploding in her head, everything was spinning. Jake’s hands on her body, Jake’s eyes looking into her soul, Jake’s lips on hers. “I love you.” She gasped. He stopped kissing her for just a moment. “I know.” He grinned.
And then there was nothing else, nothing but Jake, Kansas, and the rain everything else faded away.

First Draft/Sucky Version of Blue Walls

Spatters of blue paint were caked in her chestnut brown hair, the room was nearly done. The whites of Kansas’ eyes were lined with varying shades of red. Her shoulders sagged, each stroke up and down sent a sharp pain shooting to the small of her back. The tarp covering the newly laid white carpet was littered with brushes, paint rollers, and an array of animal-shaped stencils. She glanced down at her watch, Jake was late as usual. Moonlight was just starting to climb in the window, casting a faint glow around the room. Kansas cocked her head to the side, studying the silver beam that seemed to hold the crib in its ethereal gaze. She blinked her eyes, and the room was once again dark and painfully empty. The silence was deafening, it was if the room had never held the sounds of joy or sadness, it was just dead. Kansas uncovered the white-wooden crib, she ran her fingers along the grain of the wood feeling the tiny imperfections as she let out a sigh. White to blue, that was all she could think about, she had to make the white go away, and the walls had to be blue. Kansas clenched a pencil between her teeth as she pressed the bunny stencil to the wall. Headlights flooded the room with blinding white light. The furniture beneath the protective cloths took on a jagged and slightly ominous feel under its harsh stare. Kansas tensed at the sound of a car door slamming, but she would not stop working.

Jake leaned just inside of the doorframe, “Hey.”

“Hi”

“Shouldn’t you take a break?”

“No, I have to keep working.”

“Have you eaten anything?”

“Wasn’t hungry.”

“You need to eat.”

“I don’t have time.”

Jake crossed the threshold, into Kansas’ line of sight. His clothes were slightly rumpled. The silk-green tie hung loosely around his neck. Deep pits of black lay under his eyes, his mouth was drawn tightly across his handsome, but weathered face. He approached Kansas tentatively, as if he was approaching a cornered animal.

“You need to stop.” He took one step closer to her.

Kansas dunked her paint brush in the bucket and brushed up and down, up and down, manically.

“Stop.”

Her shoulders trembled, sobs wracked her chest. Jake stepped closer placing his hand on her shoulder.

She jolted at his touch. Kansas spun around to face him.

“I can’t” she shrugged his hand away. She bent down to put the paint brush in the bucket. Jack grabbed her wrist gently, but firmly.

“No.”

“Let go.” She yelled in his face.

“No.” His voice was calm and soft.

Kansas jerked her arm away spraying the room and Jake with spatters of baby blue paint.

“See what you did!” She shrieked pointing at the white crib, that was now marred with tiny blue dots of paint.

Kansas slid to the floor clinging to the rails of the crib, she pressed her forehead against the wood, sobbing violently until she collapsed in a heap.

Jake knelt down behind her and cradled her in his arms. He stroked her paint-stained hair, rocking her gently. Whispering in her ear,

“It’s okay, I’m here.”

She clung to him, and let herself be comforted. He kissed her temple, holding her body against his, rubbing her arms.
“You can’t do this anymore Kay” He tilted her chin, so that their eyes met. “I can’t do this anymore…” Emotion flooded his voice drowning his words, “I can’t watch you…anymore.” He choked out.

Kansas felt the floor drop out from below her; she looked behind her to make sure he was still there, because it felt like he was gone. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t want…to try…anymore.”

Kansas freed herself from his no longer comforting embrace. She walked away from him towards the paint bucket. “What about our family?”

“We are a family…Aren’t I enough?”

Betrayal was the only word that was emblazoned on her mind. Flashes of white hot-light blinded her vision. The blue walls suddenly went red. Her hand clenched in a fist, grabbing the metal handle of the paint bucket, she screamed and threw it at the wall.

Jake sprang to his feet. “Christ! Kay, what do you want from me? I can’t take this kind of pain anymore, I just can’t…You can’t ask me too.”

“But you can ask me to?”

“I can’t watch you lose a baby again, and you can’t either…”

“I can handle it.”

“Maybe…but I can’t…I love you too much.” Jake reached for her hand, she swatted it away.

“You don’t love me enough.”

Jake stared at the unfinished nursery wall smothered in baby-blue paint. His anger was only exceeded by his pain. Their bedroom door was locked; he went to the linen closet for a blanket and the kitchen pantry for a drink. Jake lie awake on the hard sofa, sipping his drink, while Kansas sobbed in the much too soft bed.

Let it burn

The kitchen exuded warmth, from the terra cotta tiles to the sherbert-orange walls. At times a breeze from the south would blow in, bringing with it the aroma of soil and sun. Ambient light was a frequent companion, gracefully hugging the curves of the delicate wine-glasses that lay nestled in the oak cabinets. A grin formed on her full lips as she sipped her wine. It truly was a dream, a tuscan kitchen tucked away in Indiana, their house’s secret. She stirred the sauce, simmering over the gas burner. The vibrant scent of rosemary, basil, and oregano wove it’s way around the kitchen forming a tapestry of tempting smells. The red ragu bubbled and popped, a splash of sauce shot up from the pan.

“It smells incredible.” Jake smiled broadly, stifling his laughter.

“It should, I’ve been channeling Martha Stewart and Betty Crocker all day.”

“Honey, they aren’t Italian.”

Kansas pouted, sticking out her lower lip and putting her hands square on her hips. She stomped her bare feet, “Well …neither am I, so I hope this sauce turns out okay.” She playfully smacked him with the potholder.

“Me too, I have to eat it.” She let herself be pulled to his solid chest. His arms encircled her waist and traveled below her hips. She could feel the heat passing between them. She looked up into his deep blue eyes. “Do you want to taste it?”

He swiped his finger down the side of her cheek, and licked the sauce from it. “Mmmh transcendent. With just the right pinch of Kansas.”

“Hey! Why didn’t you tell me I had sauce on my face!” She smacked him with the potholder again.

“Because you’re so cute. You think you can cook.” He teased.

“Oh, you’re dead.” Kansas grabbed the kitchen towel and flicked it at his butt.

“Ow, don’t be mad.” He smiled sweetly revealing a row of slightly crooked teeth. “It’s not my fault you can’t cook.” He blurted out quickly before making a mad dash for the living room.

“You’re gonna get it.” She ran after him. Kansas stood in the living room, green sofa beige recliners, no Jake.

“EYAHH!” Jake sprang from behind the couch as Kansas turned her back. He tackled her, bringing her to the floor.

“Now who’s dead?” his lips curved wickedly.

Kansas giggled wildly as he tickled her side, she kicked her legs and yelped in exhultation. A deep crimson flushed her cheeks. Their laughter subsided, and gave way to passion. Her fingers tangled in his dirty blonde hair, she brought his head to her chest. His lips delicately brushed her collarbone, up to her neck.  A tiny moan of pleasure escaped from her mouth.  Rough Masculine hands trailed down her sides, sending an electric shiver through her body.  He slid his hands under her cotton tee-shirt, the sensation of skin to skin electrified her, his touch ignited her flesh.  She licked her lips in anticipation.
“The sauce will burn.” She whispered with a sly grin.

“Let it Burn.”

Blue walls

Spatters of blue paint were caked in her chestnut brown hair, the room was nearly done. The whites of Kansas’ eyes were lined with varying shades of red. Her shoulders sagged, each stroke up and down sent a sharp pain shooting to the small of her back. The tarp covering the newly laid white carpet was littered with brushes, paint rollers, and an array of animal-shaped stencils. She glanced down at her watch, Jake was late as usual. Moonlight was just starting to climb in the window, casting a faint glow around the room. Kansas cocked her head to the side, studying the silver beam that seemed to hold the crib in its ethereal gaze. She blinked her eyes, and the room was once again dark and painfully empty. The silence was deafening, it was if the room had never held the sounds of joy or sadness, it was just dead. Kansas uncovered the white-wooden crib, she ran her fingers along the grain of the wood feeling the tiny imperfections as she let out a sigh. White to blue, that was all she could think about, she had to make the white go away, and the walls had to be blue. Kansas clenched a pencil between her teeth as she pressed the bunny stencil to the wall. Headlights flooded the room with blinding white light. The furniture beneath the protective cloths took on a jagged and slightly ominous feel under its harsh stare. Kansas tensed at the sound of a car door slamming, but she would not stop working.

Jake leaned just inside of the doorframe, “Hey.”

“Hi”

“Shouldn’t you take a break?”

“No, I have to keep working.”

“Have you eaten anything?”

“Wasn’t hungry.”

“You need to eat.”

“I don’t have time.”

Jake crossed the threshold, into Kansas’ line of sight. His clothes were slightly rumpled. The silk-green tie hung loosely around his neck. Deep pits of black lay under his eyes, his mouth was drawn tightly across his handsome, but weathered face. He approached Kansas tentatively, as if he was approaching a cornered animal.

“You need to stop.” He took one step closer to her. Impulsively he wanted to take her in his arms; he wanted to fix her, to make the pain stop. There were so many things he could give her, but he couldn’t give her this. He wanted his wife, his best friend back, but she seemed to have faded away.

Kansas dunked her paint brush in the bucket and brushed up and down, up and down, manically.

“Stop.”

Her shoulders trembled, sobs wracked her chest. Jake stepped closer placing his hand on her shoulder. How he longed to hear her musical almost child-like laughter ringing through the house. Laughter, smiles in fact seemed to die on her lips before they could even begin. He was her husband; he had to save her from this agony.

She jolted at his touch. Kansas spun around to face him. Her eyes contained, not a hint of the sparkle that drew him to her; as the ocean draws the tide. Her pupils were solid black, and the once brilliant emerald faded to a dull ordinary green. Happy was not a word he would use to describe her, the only word that seemed appropriate was hollow.

“I can’t” she shrugged his hand away. She bent down to put the paint brush in the bucket. Jack grabbed her wrist gently, but firmly. He had to end the madness; her obsession would not change anything, anything but herself. He could see it eating away her insides, like an invisible cancer, her desire had carved her into the sharp wide-eyed creature that stood before him. Their once beautiful dream had chipped away at her soul one piece at a time, until there was almost nothing left but a hollow shell. He was her husband he couldn’t let that happen. Tonight was the night he would rip her from desire’s razor claws.

“No.”

“Let go.” She yelled in his face. Why didn’t he understand she had to finish the room? She had to make the white walls blue, she just had to. Why couldn’t he understand her? Kansas gripped the paintbrush tighter, so tight she could feel tiny wood splinters piercing her skin.

“No.” His voice was calm and soft. A sharp pain wrenched his stomach, his blue eyes set in determination.

Kansas jerked her arm away spraying the room and Jake with spatters of baby blue paint.

“See what you did!” She shrieked pointing at the white crib, that was now marred with tiny blue dots of paint.

Kansas slid to the floor clinging to the rails of the crib, she pressed her forehead against the wood, sobbing violently until she collapsed in a heap.

Jake knelt down behind her and cradled her in his arms. He stroked her paint-stained hair, rocking her gently. Whispering in her ear,

“It’s okay, I’m here.” It was the first time she had let him hold her since he couldn’t remember when. Holding her was like breathing, it felt so natural so right. Her hair was an absolute mess, and he had never seen her look more ragged, but to him she was beautiful. The distance that had been pushing them further and further apart seemed to diminish. He treasured every tear he wiped away, every cry of anguish he was able to quell.

She clung to him, and let herself be comforted. He kissed her temple, holding her body against his, rubbing her arms.
“You can’t do this anymore Kay” He tilted her chin, so that their eyes met. “I can’t do this anymore…” Emotion flooded his voice drowning his words, “I can’t watch you…anymore.” He choked out.

Kansas felt the floor drop out from below her; she looked behind her to make sure he was still there, because it felt like he was gone. “What are you saying?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She thought he understood, finally understood, but now just like that he was killing her dream.

“I don’t want…to try…anymore.” The words spilled out of his mouth, he couldn’t lie anymore. The very thought of smiling and uttering “It will happen for us. This time it will work, It will be alright. We’ll have our baby” broke his heart, no more lies of hope, he couldn’t do it anymore.

Kansas freed herself from his no longer comforting embrace. She walked away from him towards the paint bucket. “What about our family?” Beatrice’s voice entered Kansas’ head, “He’ll leave, and then what will you be left with? Children are the only source of true unconditional love..”

“We are a family…Aren’t I enough?”Jake’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“No,” was the silent answer she longed to say to her mother, and it was true now, he wasn’t enough anymore. How dare he take away her chance for a family? Betrayal was the only word that was emblazoned on her mind. Flashes of white hot-light blinded her vision. The blue walls suddenly went red. Her hand clenched in a fist, grabbing the metal handle of the paint bucket, screaming she threw it at the wall.

Jake sprang to his feet. “Christ! Kay, what do you want from me? I can’t take this kind of pain anymore, I just can’t…You can’t ask me too.” Her silence stung him more than her sudden violence. All he had ever done was love her with his whole heart, and still it wasn’t enough for her.

“But you can ask me to?” The thought of sleeping in the same bed with him made her nauseaus. Happiness was being ripped from her hands by a man that claimed to love her.

“I can’t watch you lose a baby again, and you can’t either…” Flashes of a hospital wing full of new parents beaming and taking photos of their babies ripped through his thoughts. Sounds of joy and laughter, the smells of baby powder, and an overall newness tormented him. Then there was the green curtain that separated them, where the only sounds were the sobs coming from Kansas and the breaking of his heart. He knew they would never be on the other side of that curtain, and to hope for anything else was masochistic torture. Torture he didn’t have the strength to endure.

“I can handle it.” Baby feet, and baby fingers, and the smells of babies flooded her mind. She imagined herself holding her baby, kissing her baby. The pain would be worth it in the end.

“Maybe…but I can’t…I love you too much.” Jake reached for her hand, she swatted it away. The thought of his touch reviled her. Kansas looked over her shoulder as she left the room.

“You don’t love me enough.” Her icy words stung him, left him numb.

Jake stared at the unfinished nursery wall smothered in baby-blue paint. His anger was only exceeded by his pain. Their bedroom door was locked; he went to the linen closet for a blanket and the kitchen pantry for a drink. Jake lie awake on the hard sofa, sipping his drink, while Kansas sobbed in the much too soft bed; they had never been further apart.