Apple of His Eye

I mentioned that I had another take on the previous writing assignment. Enjoy!

Members of the plant kingdom were never meant to understand those of the animal kingdom. The flow of communication doesn’t work any better from the opposite side. The woman at the sink has certainly never asked if I like the bowl that I have been sitting in for the past couple of days. I’d surprise her if I thanked her for picking one of clear glass so I can observe the world around me. But I can’t say anything to her. I am only capable of observing her.

Warm golden hair tumbles past thin shoulders to her waist. Glistening slender fingers pause in midair as she tosses those golden locks back from her face. She begins to cry again. The tears never end, so what brings them on remains mysterious. The most peculiar aspect of the tears is how she smiles, shakes her head, and rests at least one hand on her belly every time one of these fits takes her. She does this now, paying no heed to the fact that dishwater still covers her hands.

Even if we don’t understand each other, it comforts me to know that someone understands her pain. The clearest case of cause and effect is that every time her sobs reach a point where she gasps for air, her husband comes running. Sometimes, the carpet on the stairs muffles his footsteps. Other times, each footfall resounds through the house as he races across the hardwood floor.

This time he responds from the direction of the living room. I bounce against the glass as his footsteps beat upon the floor. He pays no attention to the soap bubbles on her hands or the green and white plaid kitchen towel over her shoulder. He pulls her into his arms. She cuddles into his embrace and almost disappears in the circle of his muscular arms.

“Shh, darling. Everything is okay,” his voice soothes her.

“I’m sorry,” her words are muffled by his arm, “I don’t know why I keep doing this.”

“The doctor said it’s normal. It’ll be okay.”

“But I don’t want you to think you make me unhappy.”

“I know. I know,” his fingers gently run through her hair.

They remain entwined like this for some time without speaking. They communicate now through touch. Occasionally, she kisses his chest. He responds by leaning in to kiss the top of her head. Her sobs fade away.

“Better now?” He pulls her away gently so he can look into her tear-streaked face.

She nods gently and forces a smile, “Yes, go back to work. As you said, the doctor said it is normal.”

“You’re sure?” His hands loosen their grip on her shoulder.

“Yes, love,” her toes straighten as she stretches up to kiss him on the cheek.

He smiles. Two sets of hands slowly slide back down to their respective sides. They gaze at each other for a moment more. Then the spell breaks. She turns back to the mountain of dishes in the sink. Two wet handprints cause the shirt to cling to his back as he turns away. She hums softly as she finishes the dishes.

She finishes drying her hands on the kitchen towel over her shoulder before reaching toward me. Slender fingers circle around my round form. Warm breath moistens my skin. She rubs me vigorously with the damp towel before biting into my skin. The air rushes in to my exposed flesh. A part of me is slowly merging with her as she chews noisily. In two places at once, I finally feel that I have offered her comfort. Members of the plant kingdom can comfort those of the animal kingdom after all.