Day 28

Today we have another writing exercise, that comes under the banner of “She was never happier than the day she realised she could never truly be happy”.

Interesting.

Does this imply that no one could ever be happy?

What is being happy all about? Have enough money, a big or small house you own, no bills, credit cards not maxed out, 2.4 perfect uncomplaining and undemanding kids?

Hell, put like that, no one could possibly ever be happy.

But, let’s give it a go…

…

It was quite something to wake up, stare at the ceiling once it came into focus, look at the bedside clock and note she woke five minutes before the alarm went off, as she did every morning workday or not, and think where did the last twenty years go?

A better question, and one posed by Elsie the previous evening, was whether or not she was happy. The four women, all friends since high school, all now in their forties, met once a month and usually it was about children and work, but last night it was about happiness.

What the hell exactly did Elsie mean, are you happy with your life?

The point she was trying to make, despite the fact she was very drunk, which was usual, in fact for some odd reason they all were, was that she needed a definition of what happiness was because she was feeling decidedly unhappy.

That got her thinking, ergo the reason why she was staring at the ceiling trying to think of one good reason to say she was happy with her life.

Because until last night, she was. Now, in the col,d hard light of dawn, she was not so sure.

Marriage had gone from the wonderful happy-go-lucky let the chips fall where they may bliss, to drudge the moment she got pregnant. From there, it had been a running battle to convince Jake that she could work and look after a family, one that eventually grew to three children, and at times, with the pressures of work, it was almost impossible to find a work-life balance.

And while she battled to get the kids up, give them breakfast, make sure they had all their school stuff, take them to school, bring them home and have food on the table at a specific time, and cope with the ever-increasing demands of work.

All while Jake sailed on with his charmed life of doing nothing but mow the lawns, pull a few weeds, and puddle in his work shed. When he was not playing golf, drinking with his friends, or off on yet another work conference.

Yes, it was all Elsie’s fault. If she had not said anything…

…

The advantage of having children early in life, Jake being the sort who never wanted to go away for a vacation, was the last of them had just moved out, off to college and hopefully bigger and better things, and to be honest she was glad to see him go.

Jake said he would be home in time to see him off, but typical Jake, there was always something else more important. A last-minute invitation to a conference on the other side of the country. By the time she got home, the bag was packed and he was going out the door.

So much for going to the airport together as they did in the early days, along with the offer to join him one day, the one day that never materialised.

She glanced at the clock and sighed. Then she remembered it was Saturday, and there was no work. No husband, and no children. The first day of bliss.

The phone rang, and she had to get out of bed to fetch it from the table on the other side of the room, placed there deliberately so often she didn;t answer it.

This time she did.

Jake, and his usual platitudes and beef about how it was a hard life and someone had to do it. She was surprised he still called while he was away.

“Had a night out with the girls last night. We all got very drunk and disorderly and I had to call a neighbour to come and bail us out. Not feeling too well this morning.”

Yes, that went down very well, he didn’t even acknowledge it before adding he would be staying another two days.

“That’s good, Jake. Now, I can tell Elsie we can go to the male strippers tonight.”

She could hear rustling in the background and smiled to herself. Winny from sales, the girl all the men wanted to seduce, Jake had been telling her about it. She’d known about their little fling for a month when one of the women at his workplace called her and suggested something was going on. Of course, it would be. Jake had turned 40 a few years back, but the menopause hadn’t hit. Then it did. She knew the signs, her father had gone through it.

She heard him suck his breath in.

“Do you think that would be a good idea? You never know who might be there.”

Yes, there it is. About his image, not hers. About the effect it might have on him, not her.

“You won’t be. Say hello to Winny for me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out. See you in a couple of days. or not.” She hung up the phone, walked back to the bed and flopped on it.

The phone rang again, but she was not going to answer it. Let Jake think what he wants.

Her eyes went back to the ceiling, and this time, it didn’t show a life of drudge. It was a life of many possibilities.

It wasn’t the fact Jake was having an affair; he had never been the sort to be monogamous and she knew that before marrying him. It was, her mother said, a matter of what you were prepared to compromise. As long as he was discreet, she didn’t care. He knew the consequences if he wasn’t.

It also had nothing to do with her responsibilities to the children. They were grown up and didn’t need her anymore. They’d said as much, in their usual throwaway manner, that, she admitted, hurt a little, but it was the way of things.

No, it was about time she lived her life, the life she had always wanted, but sacrificed.

What did Elsie say, almost unintelligible as she out her in a taxi to go home, you’re never truly happy until you realise you can never be truly happy.

Or words to that effect.

…

©  Charles Heath  2025