She was wearing her best dress. The one she wore for Debbie’s first wedding. Frank had put on his tan suit complete with the brown tie. They had been sitting and smiling for nearly a half-hour already as friends, neighbors and family members stopped by to offer their congratulations. Fifty years of marriage was apparently a big deal. Maybe it was. Frank still had a lot of habits that annoyed her, but she had adjusted to her life of tolerant resignation.
She heard Midge before she saw her. That raucous laugh and gravelly voice were Midge’s calling cards. She saw her, then, and she was wearing that blasted lime green pants suit that was reserved for top-flight social events. Carol was with her. Small as ever. Carol never went through the “change of life” body spread like the rest of the women their age had done. Carol’s beautiful silver hair contrasted sharply with Midge’s pink-orange concoction. As usual, Carol’s big city Talbot’s wear looked out of place beside Midge’s garish double knit.
Frank burped then began to suck his teeth while continuing to shake hands and nod appreciatively. Dora quietly sighed. Even here, at their anniversary party, Frank couldn’t control his disgusting habits. “He’d better not stand and scratch his rear,” Dora silently screamed. She wouldn’t put it past him to do something so out of place. Frank had never had an abundance of social skills.
She saw Bill and Clara walk into the room just as she heard Debbie’s distinctive snorting laugh from near the punch bowl. Debbie seemed to enjoy introducing Chad to the old neighbors. Dora hoped that Chad was “the one” for Debbie. Heaven knows Jack and Larry didn’t work out too well. Debbie had a great job in the advertising industry, but for some insane reason, she was attracted to the starving artist type of man. Chad was a little better. He had a full-time job. A real job. He was the manager of a Big Boy restaurant. Frank didn’t like Chad. He thought that he was too effeminate although Frank said “Chad was sissified.” For Debbie’s sake Dora hoped that it worked.
Bill and Clara approached, and Dora noticed that Bill looked especially dapper in his grey pinstripes, white shirt and red tie. Clara was dressed to the nines in her Macy’s finery. The burgundy look was terrific on her. She assumed that they had been somewhere else before coming to the party because they certainly wouldn’t have dressed so well for this. “Still got my money?” Frank asked Bill who owned the Farmer’s Bank. “Oh my, Frank, I’ll have to check,” Bill retorted. They played this little boring game every time they encountered one another. Dora and Clara exchanged a knowing glance…don’t they ever tire of this? Clara was two years younger than Dora, but they had never been close growing up. Clara seemed to be their parents’ favorite, and Dora was the plain one who kept plugging forward. Shortly after Clara left for college at State, Dora and Frank were married. It seemed as if they didn’t have anything to discuss since then…50 years ago.
Blessedly, the line was thinning and nearly all of the cake was gone. Dora was anticipating that soon she go home and feed the chickens. Sitting here beside Frank and his bodily noises for two hours was about the limit of her tolerance. She knew that after they returned home, Frank would work in the shop until it was time for bed. They rarely ate supper these days because of the large noontime dinners that she routinely cooked. Sometimes they’d have cookies and hot chocolate before retiring to their separate rooms. Frank’s noises didn’t stop when the lights went out.
Three years later she was wearing her best dress. The one she wore for Debbie’s first wedding. Frank was wearing his tan suit with the brown tie. She had been sitting and smiling for nearly a half-hour already as friends, neighbors and family members paraded by. She overheard several of them remark that Frank looked so “natural.” She knew better. She was no longer required to be tolerant of his annoying habits. She was merely resigned to a future filled with lonely days.
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