Compromise

Amanda Nida

Sean’s wife kissed him softly on the cheek before she left for work. He pretended not to wake up and only squeezed an eye open after he heard her car drive away. Today was the day. He was leaving town. Consequently, he was also leaving Maggie. He jumped out of bed and began gathering up his clothing. He didn’t have much time to pack, but he hadn’t wanted to start early and perhaps alert Maggie to what he was planning. He glanced back at the purple comforter he had tossed aside. It was a choice of Maggie’s, covered in a bland pattern of interlaced lowers. He hated that blanket. It was almost as bad as the bed it lay on, a blocky monstrosity that was a wedding gift from Maggie’s parents. But no more of that. In only a few hours, he would be on a light across the country to Orlando. A short connection to Key West and he’d be on a beach with Francis. No return light had been booked. Stacking his shirts in his dusty suitcase, he could still smell hints of his wife’s perfume wafting from the bathroom. It was the slightly chemical jasmine smell of the Chanel perfume he’d bought for her birthday ive years ago. She still wore it every day. Her bottle was almost empty. I need to buy her another bottle, he thought. But no, he’d be long gone. He shouldn’t need to remind himself. There would be things like this that he would miss; the routine of home or whatever. Christmas wouldn’t be the same without snow, but Sean liked the idea of palm trees strung with lights. The early morning light in the room was still dim. Outside he could hear his neighbors heading out the door and on to work. That wouldn’t be him, not anymore. He couldn’t stand his job. He’d always wanted to be a writer, and had even written in his spare time…or at least he used to. But for the last twelve years he had worked as a consultant at an insurance company. The work paid well enough but it was dull. Once he got to Key West, though, Sean was determined to set himself up as a writer, to get back to his passion. He zipped up his suitcase and set it upright before heading to the kitchen. Maggie’s cofee cup and toast plate were still sitting in the sink. He licked the tap on and began rinsing them but then froze, the plate still in his hand.

What was he doing? He didn’t have to do this anymore. But he always cleaned up Maggie’s breakfast dishes, since she had to leave for work earlier. Sean shrugged of the thought and put the dishes in the dishwasher just as he always did. He supposed he might as well, since he was almost done anyway. Sean glanced at the wall clock. Still only 8:30. He wasn’t due to meet Francis at the airport for another two hours. He went to the fridge to get some breakfast. The fridge door squeaked loudly. They really did need a new one. Perhaps once he sold his car, he could send Maggie the money. He grabbed the dish of pasta from the previous night and sat at the kitchen table, eating it cold. As he ate, Sean could hear, distantly, the sound of a commuter bus going by. He hated how close they lived to the main road, and yet he and Maggie had been living here for close to ifteen years. It was supposed to have been a temporary place. They had planned on moving up to a northern suburb at some point. But they’d settled into their row house and had just gotten used to it. From time to time, they still brought up the idea of moving, when a promising house was listed. But nothing had ever come of that. It was like that bed, Sean thought. Neither he nor Maggie liked that ugly thing her parents had given them. But they hadn’t had anything else when they married, and they’d never gotten around to replacing it. Everything about their life together had become a series of compromises that nobody really wanted. Sean knew he wasn’t happy with Maggie anymore, but he’d thought it was because their life together was so far from what they’d planned. Certainly, the fallen expectations were a part of it, but being with Francis, he realized just how much he’d compromised his life. He had suspected, as a teenager, that he might be gay, but he’d ignored those thoughts, pushed them far out of consideration. In his early twenties, he’d met Maggie. The two of them had hit it of well and that was it. Or rather it wasn’t, because eventually he met Francis. Francis had started as a temp at the insurance company about a year ago. Casual conversation had led to the two of them having lunch together, and then to dinners and now Sean was practically living a double life. But not for much longer. Francis was a few years younger, but Sean barely noticed. Sean just felt like he could talk to Francis in a way he hadn’t with Maggie in years, maybe ever. Francis listened to him, for one thing. He hadn’t felt like anyone had actually listened to him for a long time. Maggie had the awful habit of nodding absently whenever Sean

tried to tell her something. Sean looked at the clock again. Only ifteen minutes had passed. With almost two full hours still left to kill, he decided to go ahead and tidy up the bedroom. He made the bed and picked up the hangers he’d left on the loor when he packed. He was still going to be leaving a lot behind. Most of his clothing and belongings. He was quite certain that Maggie wasn’t the kind of vindictive person who would throw it all out. He could send for it later. Rummaging through his collection of ties, though, a thought occurred to him. He didn’t need any of these things. Perhaps the best plan for starting fresh would be to actually start over completely. Take nothing much from his old life. Just the clothes on his back. Yes, he liked that idea. He slammed the drawer shut, rattling the dusty photograph on top of it. The photo in it was faded now, from years sitting next to the window. In it, he and Maggie had their arms around one another, standing in front of Times Square. It had been their irst or second anniversary; Sean couldn’t remember which. They looked happy in the picture. He admitted to himself that they really had been, once. But that had faded. His cell rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, expecting to see Francis’ face on the screen. But no, it was Maggie. Sean hesitated a moment before answering it. “Hello?” “Oh, hello dear. I’m glad I caught you.” “What? Why?” Sean’s palms started to sweat. Was it possible that she knew? How could she? “Well I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going out with the girls tonight. I’m just not in the mood. Instead, I thought you and I could go get dinner somewhere? Or take-out. We could make it a night in.” Her voice had risen in pitch, as it did when she made a suggestion that she thought he would turn down. Sean took a deep breath. Should he tell her now? It seemed awful for him to string her along with these plans. What he was doing wasn’t good; he knew that. But he really had wanted to leave clean, without the confrontation. He didn’t know if he could face her. “How about a night in?” he said. “We haven’t had a night together in a while.”

“Yeah, we haven’t. I’d like that. Well, I hope you have a good day at work then. I’ll let you get back to that.” Maggie’s voice was light again. Sean could hear the smile in it. “Oh yeah, thanks.” “I love you, Sean. I’ll see you at six.” “I love you, too,” Sean said. He hung up quickly, since he knew Maggie hated to hang up irst. He sat down on the edge of the bed. For all that their life wasn’t what he’d hoped, he really did care deeply for Maggie. He did love her, even if not in the way he should. Looking at his little suitcase, he knew he loved her too much to do this to her. He’d called things of with Francis once before already. He knew Francis wouldn’t put up with it again. They’d be done. Already, he could feel Key West fading away. The commuter bus rattled by again. Sean guessed it was probably the 9:05. He didn’t even have to glance at his watch to know for sure.