The D Chronicles Vol 1 - (Men): Decision

Decision.

Charles St. Matthews was a man without certainty but on that Tuesday after working at his 9 to 5 job he knew one thing with absolute certainty…

“I’m leaving my wife today,” is what he confidently came to conclude at exactly 12:15 pm. An epiphany had struck him after a moment of sheer release that involved his secretary, Lola helping him with his dictation and so much more.
Although his outlandish exclaim made her smile Lola said nothing about his epiphany as she knew like other women know about the epiphanies men often have when they lose themselves in such moments. Yet, she watched Charles continue to think it as she put her clothes back on.

Charles St. Matthews wasn’t a firm man. He never knew what he wanted and it mattered very little to him until recently. Recently when he began a regular lunch time dictation with his new secretary, Lola. Until Lola, Charles had spent his days in the same routine with the same woman for nearly thirteen years. And he now was certain he’d been spending his entire life with the wrong woman. The thought slowly unfolded from his tongue as Lola quietly re-buttoned her blouse and pressed the wrinkles out of her skirt saying nothing but smiling. When at last she spoke it was softly to remind him of his wife’s birthday and discreetly exit his office.

Charles heard Lola say it but knew what that reminder meant. It was meant to acknowledge his lack of commitment to her. The uncertain nature of his entire personality reflected back at him and stung like an arrow tipped with poison. But she was right. The day would not be appropriate for such actions. Eleanor would not want a divorce for dinner conversation just as she would have despised serving lamb or veal instead of chicken. A change in routine would not do for this evening that would end exactly like any other promptly at eleven. And despite the delight of the occasion there would be no passion for the celebration. As any nudity even in the bedroom wouldn’t be proper; even on such occasions Eleanor would see such things as crass.

The sheer thought of continuing this way sent him spinning. Charles had never done anything fully resolved  in his life. Leaving every decision that mattered to the fates. Someone else will know what to do if you do not. It had been his father’s motto and his father’s and so on. Only it wasn’t working for Charles anymore. He wanted to do something with certainty and commitment instead of letting somebody else call the shots. He wanted lamb for dinner instead of chicken. He wanted to stay up past eleven. He wanted passion without reasons or occasions. He wanted to walk naked in his bedroom, his living room and maybe even the kitchen and he didn’t care if Eleanor disagreed.

For the following four and a half hours in his otherwise dreary work day Charles spent them preparing his certain speech. With it’s certain words and certain flair. And he was absolutely certain of how it was going to happen. He would drop by the florists and get a dozen roses to celebrate his departure from Eleanor. She would receive them without gratitude thinking it was a cheap attempt at sympathy for overlooking the date and seethe angrily at his tardiness. And when the time was right he would give her the last thing she ever expected to receive on her birthday; his goodbye. The expectation he had in his mind was all he could imagine.

Eleanor was ready for him when he got home, same as always. Through the door by 6:30 and already she’d managed to pick out that something was different about him. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but Charles was behaving out of the ordinary. The look in his eyes was that of a scared lamb ready for sacrifice. It wasn’t like him to arrive late without any warn especially with a dozen red roses. And of all days, he had picked her birthday to pull such a stunt. She had managed to put off preparing dinner in her irritation but decided to greet him with a smile and poured herself a Scotch.

Charles had never seen Eleanor in such an unusual mood. She’d never postponed dinner for any occasion, or drank in the daytime, certainly never on her birthday. And the sheer shock of her greeting him and taking his coat with pleasantries sent his mind thinking recklessly. Eleanor further surprised when she offered him a drink. He instantly wondered if she knew about Lola when she poured him a Scotch. Could Eleanor truly read his mind and know what he was about to say? When she sipped her drink he wondered if she would try to stop him from leaving when he told her. After she handed him a glass of Scotch he begin imagining her with red eyes and a screeching howl. It was a frightening thought. Nonetheless it didn’t stop him from wanting to leave.

As Charles watches Eleanor put the roses in water he knew there would never be a better time than now. He takes swallow of liquid courage to calm his nerves. While he thinks the taste to be a bit sour in his dry mouth he ignores it as no more than the acid of a nervous stomach. Nerves sent spinning over a resolute decision. Charles had typically been a man without a backbone when it came to Eleanor. What she wanted was the law in their life together. There were no ifs, ands or buts when it came to decisions. Even the decision to have a drink seemed thrust upon him by Eleanor. And Charles felt in that moment was time that he made a few decisions on his own.

When Eleanor asked him what he wanted for dinner he interrupted her to begin his speech.

Charles told her that he wasn’t hungry before she could react. Then explained “there’s something I want to tell you.” Until then she had wanted to tell him about the drink but stopped short when he begin to ramble out things that involved a decision that he’d made without her. Charles had made the decision to leave her for a life that involved his unimportant secretary. Eleanor sat and listened to his well rehearsed words and realized that she hadn’t ever contemplated him choosing to leave on his own accord.

Charles swallows gulp after gulp of the dark Scotch. He is simply parched after telling Eleanor the news that he came to decide at 12:15 that day. The temperature of his skin begins to feel warm and his hands clammy in the middle of his speech. After he tells her of money that will no longer be there, the rising heat in the room makes him loosen his tie. When he’s simply overheated the thought of continuing without more to drink stops him in his words. So he drinks the last bit of it. Eleanor quietly sips her drink and looks at him. There are no red eyes or screaming howls released at the news of his departure. Charles thinks she’s gotten the gist of it and decides to pour himself another glass. Drinking a quick swallow he concludes that there is no more to say. Without a word and a wipe of his brow, Charles tumbles downward.

Down. Down. Down.

Eleanor wanted to run over and toss the roses upside his head out of anger. She wanted to be angry but it didn’t matter after he finished his drink. The simple wimbling man with his dramatic excuses didn’t even want to know what she was thinking as he rambled on and on through his treacherous speech. She thought his rehearsed speech to be a bit overdone and listened while watching him swallow the Scotch. Initially Eleanor wondered if he knew what she had planned for him when he arrived home late. But she knew that to be incorrect as he took drink after drink between starting and stopping his speech. The Scotch couldn’t have hidden the strong taste of the poison but he kept drinking it down before he went down.

Charles feverishly lay twitching on the floor; his arms and legs no longer responsive to his commands. Unable to speak as his throat constricts further into a tightness. Sweat beads off his forehead with a brand new epiphany born deep within the interior of his mind. Eleanor had poisoned him with the Scotch and he kept wondering how she had done it. Wondering why when it didn’t matter any longer. He thought she’d been drinking from the same bottle, but realized that he hadn’t seen her pour the same Scotch in her glass before his. He continues to wonder about things of no consequence while Eleanor stands over him watching like a spider with a fly caught in her web.  There in the web, his mind attempts to make his flawed thinking seem rational. Had it been his lateness for dinner? The flowers? Or had she known about Lola all along? Eleanor speaks her final peace before he succumbs further to the effects of the poison.

“You’re right darling. You are leaving me today.”

And with absolute certainty Charles St. Matthews left his wife that Tuesday.

Decisions. Best to make the decisions while they are still your decisions to make. Anyhow, ready for more? There is more to come. Enjoy. kisses. m.