An Uneasy Peace: Don’s View
The rest of the week went by without any further
altercations. When I arrived home,
dinner was ready as always. Sandy did
not bring up my night out at the bar and I
sure as hell was not going to mention it.
I did, however, notice that the
temperature in our bedroom had dropped considerably. Sandy normally slept in just a short T-shirt
or baby doll pajamas, with all female parts readily available. Now, however, she had developed the habit of
coming to bed wearing long flannel nightgowns, which allowed no easy access to
anything other than her head and feet.
When I tried to ask her why the change she just shrugged her shoulders
and said she just felt like sleeping in something warm for a change.
Well, I figured that she was making some kind of a point but
it was not important enough to argue about at this time. And, in any event, summer was coming and I
figured she would be warm enough without long sleepwear.
Not much else happened until Saturday night. I had been out with my friends and arrived
home about when I figured supper would be ready, but to my surprise, my wife was just heading out the door
as I entered. I took one look at her and
almost fell over backward. She was dressed like a dominatrix. I have no idea where she got her outfit but I
knew I had never seen it before. The
boots she wore had, at least, five-inch
heels and came well above her knees and the leather skirt came only
mid-thigh. The skin left to the view was
covered with shiny black nylon. She wore
a see through white blouse and I could not see anything resembling a bra but
her nipples were hidden behind the black leather vest she wore.
Once I got over the shock of her outfit, I studied her
face. I had never seen her wear a lot of
makeup but tonight her lips were painted
the brightest shade of red imaginable and her eyelashes
looked to be about three inches long.
“Where in hell are you going dressed like that?” I demanded.
Sandy just smiled at me and replied, “I didn’t ask you where
you went the other night after you came home stinking drunk.”
“Well, I didn’t go out dressed in my fuck me outfit either,”
I spat.
“Fuck me outfit?” she
asked. “Is that what you think this
is? I thought you liked your women in
leather and heels?”
“Fine, if you want to wear that at home, I am all for
it. But, over my dead body are you
leaving this house dressed like that?”
“Well, then prepare to die because unless you get out of my
way you are going to get a boot to the balls.
I am not your property and I am even wondering if it is worth my time
and effort to be your wife. Now move or
prepare yourself for a world of hurt.”
I do not think I had ever seen her as angry as she was at
that moment and while I really wanted to press the point and reassert my right
as lord and master, I also knew that the toes of her boots were mighty sharp
and probably hard. And so I moved aside
and let her pass.
I was feeling sorry for myself as I wandered into the
kitchen to see if I could find something to eat. I opened the refrigerator to get a beer but
to my surprise, there was a note left
where the beer had been earlier. It
read, “I thought you had enough beer to last the rest of the year the other
night. I am going to a party and thought
that the guys might enjoy having a cold beer so I took it with me. Have a good night.”
“Who the hell are these guys that are drinking my beer?” I
thought.
My first inclination was to call Frank and ask him to go out
with me but then I figured that was part of the problem I was facing so I made
a sandwich and decided to go into the den and spend some time on my computer.
That is when I got the second shock of the evening. My screen saver had been replaced with a gif
file of my wife in her new outfit, a whip in her hand and announcing that I
needed to check my email.
“What the hell?” I
asked myself as I clicked on my email. Sure enough, there was a message from my wife
telling me if I knew what was good for me, that I would spend the evening doing
some chores around the house starting with the
load of laundry that she had left in our bedroom. She even left me instructions on how she
wanted it done.
I guess that was the beginning of a turning point in my
marriage. My wife had made a point, as
she went out the door, of telling me she was not sure she wanted to stay married
to me. Well, I knew I wanted to stay
married to her. Maybe, I neglected her a
little too much but that did not mean that I did not love her. And damn she did look hot tonight when she
left. Deep down, I knew that she would
never do anything to jeopardize our marriage, that she was only trying to get
me to notice her a little more, but there was that tiny thought in the back of
my mind that no woman went to that much trouble in getting dressed unless she
was cruising for a man.
I don’t know how long I sat staring at that message before I
decided that maybe, just maybe, I should comply just this once. I made my way to the bedroom and found a huge
basket of clothes with a note on top.
“Separate the colors from the whites and do them in separate loads. The washer is pre-set
for you so all you have to do is load the clothes put in one cap full of
detergent and start the washer. When the
first load is done set the dryer timer for 60 minutes, throw the clothes in
with a fabric softener sheet and start it.
While that is drying you can wash the second load.”
“Make sure that you fold each load as soon as the dryer
stops so that the wrinkles do not set into the fabric. Let’s see what a good boy you can be. If you do a good enough job, Mommy may give you
a reward. If not, oh well think about
your screen saver.”
I never knew how long it took to do two loads of wash. I just took it for granted that it was a
short process. I didn’t know because I
had never wanted to know. Laundry was
woman’s work as was cooking, vacuuming, dusting and any other work that had to
do with the day-to-day maintenance of our house. And although Sandy had alluded to my helping
in the past she had never made a big deal of it either.
But all that was about to change.
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