This is a short story I wrote in college. –Jesse
Another hectic day at Jon and Lisa Redford’s house had arrived, albeit not unusual; this had become a common occurrence some time ago. Weekdays gave only enough time for work, sleep, and food, and weekends were jammed with things of little importance that needed doing. They had only been married for a little over five years, but for Lisa it was beginning to feel like seventy-five.
It was one of those Saturdays where sugar-coated cereal and sleeping late seemed nothing but a distant memory, where cartoons and long days of unfettered imagination had become imagined things themselves. And with those faded fables of some younger self swirling about in an overworked mind, and with far too much to do, Lisa glared at the old Hotpoint Refrigerator. It always seemed so obnoxious hulking there in the corner of her kitchen, Lisa thought to herself. So many indescribable things annoyed her about the outdated box. Each time the compressor clicked on, every light in the house dimmed, and IT would grind, gnash, shriek and after its tantrum, let out a long, low mumble. Lisa wanted a new refrigerator, but in a two-income society, they were lucky enough to have this one.
“Honey!” she cried. Where was that man? Lisa hated that she had to call him over and over to get his attention; but that seemed the extent of their relationship lately—nag and yell. He was callous to her lately. Wasn’t it just last week she had sent him to the grocery store for milk, being absolutely sure to remind him three times; and still he came home with a carton of fudge ripple ice cream instead? Why did he have to be so insensitive and care only about his own wants and needs? Was he blind by sheer ignorance or by complacent choice?
Lisa concluded that she would have to move the refrigerator by herself, so she leaned up against it with her shoulder, and shoved. It was much heavier than she thought it would be. She strained and struggled just to slide the beast aside; and just as it began to budge, the sharp base of the refrigerator caught the linoleum floor and ripped it. She growled—very loud and very frustrated—and sat down on the dirty floor.
It was Jon’s fault for not helping her. She worked the same eight hours he did. She came home just as tired and just as fed up with frustrating people; so why should he sit upstairs and watch reruns of old television shows while she did everything around the house? The gash in the floor made her cringe.
She would move the refrigerator without his help. She was strong; she could do it on her own. After all, her early twenties were years of self-sufficiency, and she had learned to cope. That she was thirty-five and married did not make her helpless. With a renewed determination, she stood up, buried her shoulder into the side of the refrigerator, and strained. The linoleum tore even wider.
Before she could react, a yellowed envelope that had been lodged between the back corner of the refrigerator and the wall fluttered to the ground. It landed on its back, and on the front, in faded blue ink were written the words: “My Vow, My Love.” Memories flooded back to Lisa with waves of emotions.
She picked up the envelope and smelled it. It smelled old and musty, but the smell of men’s cologne still lingered in her mind. It had been so long! The memories that came seemed so distant—like a dream. How could she have forgotten that day in June when Jon handed her the very envelope she held in her hand?
The picture was so clear in her mind now. It was exactly one month before they were to be married, and he was so shy and timid when they exchanged personal vows. He shuffled his feet and looked down at the ground like an infatuated schoolboy, all the while apologizing if it sounded “juvenile” or “silly”.
She remembered reading it while Jon sat sat on the park bench, staring at his feet. Tears welled up in Lisa’s eyes as she thought back on those tears not all to long ago. The intense emotion swelled again as she thought of laughter, love and living life together.
The envelope crinkled as Lisa opened it carefully and pulled out the folded yellow paper. It was exactly as she had remembered. She closed her eyes and held the paper up to her lips; then, after a deep sigh, she opened the paper and read it again, five and a half years later:
“Here I stand before you, And vow to you my love. I pledge myself eternal In the eyes of God above. ‘I love you’ man’s divinest words, Though many times misleading, Convey my most elusive thoughts For you, and bear repeating.”
Was the man in front of the television upstairs the same young man who embraced and kissed her in absolute love? Does time change true love? She had become so consumed with the vain pursuits of life that somehow she had grown callous to the treasure before her. The linoleum mattered very little now; the price of linoleum could not compare to the value of true love.
“Lee?” Jon called from the top of the stairs. “Come here for a minute.”
Lisa wiped away the tears and streaked mascara and headed to the stairs. When she reached the top, Jon put his arm around her waist and opened their bedroom door. The bed was made, the top of both dressers was clean, the floor was spotless, and the laundry had been folded and put away.
“Happy Anniversary.” He kissed her gently on the cheek.
