The Forgotten Child

Emily Nelson’s eyes popped open just as the sliver of light, at the break of dawn, crept up the horizon; and, for a moment, there was peace. Until she blinked a couple of times and reality set in. She glimpsed the lump beside her in their king-size bed—her husband, Bob. Emily pushed her thick, dark hair back, and slid to the side of the bed. She was hit by an irritating turmoil, an unwelcome friend, twisting up her insides as if wringing out a wet rag. Not even a shred of interest remained for the man she once loved. She’d more empathy for the crotchety old geezer at the end of the street.

So what made this morning different? She didn’t know how to explain this awakening, this unfolding, from deep inside someplace she thought had long since been closed and sealed off. Find some courage. Believe enough in herself, and then she’d soon be living a life that was hers, for the first time, filled with amazing peace and hope. And that’s what compelled Emily to shake off her 10-year funk, throw her thin, pale legs over the side of the bed, and get up.

Emily, a 35-year-old, average-looking mother and wife, slipped into the ugly brown bathrobe her husband bought her this past Christmas. The one he meant to give his mother but got confused after he wrapped them since the boxes were identical. His mother got the old lady polyester pants with the elastic waistband meant for Emily, so she supposed she got the better of the deal.

She held her breath when she chanced a glance at Bob, who lay softly snoring on his side of the big bed; the fact he was still asleep eased her anxiety. Emily suppressed a sigh of relief. She had no interest in spending time in a room with this man, any more than the grumpy old geezer up the street. Maybe that was why the knot in her tummy loosened when she left the room and stood outside their daughter’s door. Katy, her blonde two-year-old beauty, was sleeping like an angel in the bedroom across the hall, in their average, very plain, box-style rented bungalow. Emily tiptoed across the cheap neutral-colored carpeting, the same quality you see in most rental homes, which showed every stain imaginable, even after shampooing year after year. She pressed her hand on the doorframe and pulled Katy’s door closed so she wouldn’t hear Emily at this early hour. Five a.m. was her time, when her head was clear when her creative juices flowed when she faced reality and could make the tough decisions with absolute clarity.

Today’s the day. When he comes down, I’ll say it. Her gut twisted, but she knew that it was nothing more than fear of the unknown. She couldn’t wait anymore; it had to be today. It was past time and she knew she’d ignored this decision for too long. The signs were all around her—they had been for months. Now, with no chance to think it to death or get cold feet, the floor squeaked as his heavy footsteps thumped down the hall toward her. Her skin chilled and she had a buzzing sensation in her ears, as if the floor were about to drop out from beneath her feet. Bob, her husband of twelve years, shuffled into the kitchen past her as she leaned against the counter. What made it worse was the way that he looked away, as if to dismiss her; a woman of no importance.