Moment in Time

by Sara Lufrano

Natalie had almost always despised her life. The normal joys like marriage, career, and children were not joys as much as a chore she willingly added to her life. She liked to travel but the sinking feeling of real life was never far away. She liked to cook but the reason she liked to cook was because she had a family that she had to take care of. Aside from that, she was resigned to her existence and did little to change it.

Once her son moved out she proclaimed all her actions to be for herself, this was her time to explore the possibilities. That selfishness didn't help either. Her husband ceaselessly annoyed her and she did nothing to hide it. Her son was floundering in the lackluster existence he chose and she didn't care to pry. She was in her last years before an early retirement from her tax firm.

She was resolved for it to go on like that until the end. Her attempts and failures caught up to her so now that retirement loomed closer she was panicked to be alone with herself. She thought to start traveling in earnest, the constant worry that brought would be keep her from really thinking about what her life had become, who she was going to be, and who she was going to be with through the rest of her life.

That all changed, though, when she realized she was in love with another man.

“Come in! Come in!” Natalie's friend Kate said as she moved aside and gestured to walk through. Natalie and her husband Dean walked in, smiles on their faces.

Natalie liked Kate a lot. Kate was outspoken and charming, sometimes aggressive but also happy, always honest and knew her own faults.

“Thank you, Kate!” Natalie said.

Dean handed Kate a covered pie pan. “Here's the dessert.” Dean lightly clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

It was a habit of Dean's to click his tongue after he was done talking. Natalie had hoped one day she wouldn't hear it anymore, that it would fade into the background and would only come up when someone asked what that noise was without realizing it was coming from Dean. But it hadn't. She heard it every time. Every damn time.

Kate's husband, Warren, stepped out from the kitchen removing an apron from his waist. “Natalie, Dean,” he said to them with a nod.

Natalie was in love with Warren.

He shook Dean's hand and then went in to hug her. She took his shoulders in her hands and kept him distant. She grew unable to be near him without loathing her feelings so it was best to always feign some sickness, some pain in her shoulder, to keep some obstacle in the way of his friendly greeting.

“Can I get you guys something to drink? Wine? Beer?” Warren said.

Kate linked arms with Natalie, “I just opened a bottle of wine.”

Natalie smiled and went with her friend to the dining room just outside of the kitchen.

“I'll take a beer.” Dean clicked his tongue and went with Warren outside to the barbeque.

Kate handed Natalie a glass of wine.

“So, how are you?” Natalie asked taking a sip.

“Oh, I'm good. Just always something with these young girls at the office,” Kate started.

Natalie knew everything was perfect for Kate. She had Warren, the reason why Kate was also so happy, so cheerful, so positive.

Natalie and Kate met at a community get-together and hit it off. A dinner invitation was extended. They found out that the four of them had similar interests and enjoyed being around each other. Something Natalie was surprised to find in anyone.

When she thought about Warren, after first meeting him, there was no spark, no wild wonderment, no longing. He and Kate were happily married and she and Dean, in her opinion only, were not. That was all her life was going to be.

Warren was a quiet man but calculated, strong, and smart. Natalie found herself watching him and noticing his minute movements, listening to how he formed sentences, and noticed his smile at clever things she would say.

The day that did it was when Natalie watched Warren remove a peach pit from Kate's peach without Kate asking or even addressing that it had happened. Warren didn't pay any mind either. He just casually reached over, took the peach from Kate, pulled out the pit, and handed it back to her. He didn't even take a bite.

Natalie thought about that peach for days and snapped at Dean any slim chance that may have warranted a snapping at. Dean had never and would never do anything like that for her.

Warren made Natalie feel like she could be happy.

Natalie and Kate sat at the table with their wine glasses and small plates with cracker crumbs and streaks of dip left on them.

“It's like he never sees things that are right in front of him. I had to get up, walk over to him, grab it, which was right next to him, and hand it to him.” Kate chuckled at the story she told of Warren.

Natalie smiled and chuckled too. Dean had been keeping to himself at home recently so Natalie didn't even have the opportunity to interact with him, even if the chances were high that it would be negative.

Avoiding having to insert an anecdote about their home life, Natalie asked, “Are Warren and Dean going to come in for appetizers?”

“Let me go see what they're doing.” Kate got up and headed out to check on them.

Natalie looked at her plate with the crumbs.

Now she was aware that everything in the house was Warren's. He'd touched everything, held everything, remembered every story behind the house. And that the whole house and everything in it was also Kate's and would never be hers.

She ran her finger along the rim of her appetizer plate. A little chipped plate that didn't match the other little plates. Did he drop it in the sink while rinsing it off? Did he pick it up and examine the chip running his finger across it as she just had? Did he decide that even with its small imperfection that it was still a whole plate to be used?

Warren came through the back yard door and shut it behind himself.

“Warren.” Natalie tried to hide the red heat that was crawling up her neck, feeling exposed to her thoughts of him.

He went to the kitchen and washed his hands. “Dinner's just about done,” he said as he dried his hands and leaned against the countertop.

“Do you need any help?” She met him in the kitchen and leaned the side of her hip against the same countertop so she faced him.

“No, I think we have it handled.”

He held the white thin towel he used.

“Where are Dean and Kate?”

“Dean took a call. Kate is walking the garden.”

Here he was. With her. Alone. She looked at his big, weathered hands. She wanted to take his hands and hold them tight. She wanted to lean in and kiss him softly on his cheek. She wanted to say, I want us to be together, I love you.

“You can help yourself to more wine. We have plenty.” This was a variation of Warren's canned lines. Multiple times a night he would offer more wine and food.

“I—I,” her mind was foggy as she stepped out of her thoughts, “my glass is over there. Let me grab it.”

She picked up her glass and went back to Warren settling herself closer to him in the kitchen. She put her glass on the counter and Warren left her side to fill it with more wine.

“Do you have a glass?” she asked. “How about a toast?”

Warren smiled and handed her back her glass. “I don't. My beer is outside.”

“That's fine.” The familiarity of disappointment dogged her.

He held the bottle and studied the label that was nondescript. “If I remember correctly we got this one last fall,” he said idly.

Natalie went to him and took the bottle out of his hand. She put in on the counter. “Warren,” she said.

He looked at her, his face plain. She grabbed at the hand that held the bottle but it was awkward, she only managed to capture his thumb and first two fingers.

“Warren,” she said again. Her mind was racing as she looked in his eyes trying to show what she couldn't say with words. She squeezed his hand but what she actually wanted to do was to put herself against him and stay there curled in his arms.

“Let go of my hand,” he said.

She quickly pulled her hand away, took up her glass, and stepped back to lean against the countertop.

Natalie felt no heat from him, no movement, he only let her touch his hand. Her heart hurt at the pass she just made.

“Dinner at our house next week, say Wednesday?” She said trying to save herself from Warren's cold reaction.

But without that reaction Natalie wouldn't love Warren so much. He was what she wanted him to be, completely immune to other women around him.

Kate came through the door carrying a small basket filled with cherry tomatoes. Natalie's face reddened when she saw Kate and noticed that Warren didn't move an inch.

“Dinner Wednesday at Natalie and Dean's,” Warren said.

Kate nodded. “Perfect! Natalie, do you want some of these to take home tonight?”

Dean came through the door. “That guy can talk, I tell you. Sorry about that.” He clicked his tongue.

“Not a problem,” Warren said.

“Natalie, I'm going to put these in a plastic bag for you,” Kate said as she crossed the kitchen.

Warren looked at Natalie. “You don't have to take them if you don't want them.”

She gave a small shake of her head. “No, I'd—I'd like to have them.”