All Andrew wanted was the typical American dream: a good
career, a nice house, and a typical loving family. Instead he has a menial job,
a small apartment, and children that remind him of creatures out of a sci-fi
movie. To add insult to injury, he’s well aware that he’s not the only man that
inhabits his wife’s thoughts and daily life. But how can he put up a fight when
he’s reminded of the competition every time Bethany turns on the CD player?
After one eventful dinner conversation when expectations, disappointments, and
secrets collide, life may never be the same.
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About the Author:
Selah Janel has been blessed with a giant imagination since
she was little and convinced that fairies lived in the nearby state park or
vampires hid in the abandoned barns outside of town. Her appreciation for a
good story was enhanced by a love of reading, the many talented storytellers
that surrounded her, and a healthy curiosity for everything. A talent for
warping everything she learned didn’t hurt, either. She gravitates to writing
fantasy and horror, but can be convinced to pursue any genre if the idea is
good enough. Often her stories feature the unknown creeping into the “real”
world and she loves to find the magical in the mundane.
She has four e-books
with No Boundaries Press, including the upcoming novel ‘In the Red’. Her work
has also been included in ‘The MacGuffin’, ‘The Realm Beyond’, ‘Stories for
Children Magazine’, and the upcoming Wicked East Press anthology ‘Bedtime
Stories for Girls’. She likes her music to rock, her vampires lethal, her fairies
to play mind games, and her princesses to hold their own.
Excerpt:
Andrew squeezed himself to his place at the head of the
table and glared at the boom box that sat on the counter right beside his head.
With smug satisfaction he turned the CD off. As soon as the sound died away the
spark of light that inhabited Bethany went out. Her slender shoulders drooped a
little more, her delicate blonde head bent slightly, and the set of her mouth
became tighter, as if she had a migraine coming on. Instead of being full of
youth and motherhood she looked like a tired homemaker or a condemned prisoner.
Is this how she feels with me around? Is this the effect I have on my own wife?
He bit the inside of his cheek and studied the vinyl tablecloth. Don’t I get
tired too? Don’t I get disappointed? I’m trapped in this life, just like she
is. At least I live in reality! It was petty and childish, but he felt so much
better when the stereo was turned off. It was just a hunk of metal and
electricity then, not a challenge.
Miranda and Gregory returned and dutifully sat in their
booster seat and high chair. They smacked still-sticky hands together and bowed
tousled heads in the pre-meal ritual. Andrew cringed in slight disgust. When he
was a boy his father had looked so happy at the end of the day. The old man had
been full of contentment and Andrew still remembered being in awe of him. When
he was nine at his parents’ dining room table he hadn’t been able to wait until
that position of power and benevolence would be his own someday. And now here I
am.
Yet as hard as Andrew tried the corners of his mouth
wouldn’t climb upwards as he glanced over at his kids. The longer things went
on the harder it was to smile even for his wife. The whole scene that should
have been reminiscent of Norman Rockwell left him apathetic at best, and Andrew
fought the urge to check his watch. There were other places he could be –
places he should be. Places where he belonged. No, you belong here. This is
what you wanted and now you have it. You live with it. It isn’t your fault you
were given a raw deal. At least at the office he fit in, even if he was low on
the corporate ladder. My opinion’s valued there. I’m around people just like me
and not… Andrew’s thoughts trailed off and he swallowed down his frustration.
This is your life, he reminded himself. It’s what you wanted — well what you
thought you wanted. You just have to stick with it until things get better.
His inner pep talk faded when Bethany abruptly got up from
her seat. “Forgot the broccoli!” she explained and dashed to retrieve it.
“But I hate broccoli,” Andrew sighed. The kids relaxed their
angelic poses and began to regard their plates with sneaky expressions.
“I know, but they really love it. It’s one of the few
vegetables they’ll eat without a fight,” Beth countered, the edges of her voice
worn with fatigue like old denim. Andrew grunted a reply and idly trailed his
finger over the mismatched plate before he sucked off the juices.
“You’re not supposed to eat before the prayer!” Miranda
shouted and jabbed an accusing finger at him. Gregory followed his sister’s
lead and cast out his arm, nearly sending his baby cup flying.
“I just put my finger in the sauce!” he snapped. His voice
was less the deep paternal tone he would have liked and more like a teenager’s
lame excuse. Bethany re-entered and a frown tugged across her face as the
putrid green-filled bowl was placed on the table. No wonder the kids loved it;
it probably enhanced their natural smell.
Andrew coolly returned her stare before clearing his throat.
Let’s just get this over with and then you can go get some real food. “Alright,
come on, let’s pray — what are you doing!?” Right in front of him, bold as
could be, Miranda very carefully leaned over and ran a delicate pink tongue
over the center of her plate.
“I just ran my tongue through the sauce!” Her voice was
solemn and she took a moment to wipe at her mouth with her shirt sleeve.
Bethany made a slight choking laugh before reigning herself in.
“Not at the table.
And use a napkin,” she reprimanded, but her lip twitched as she struggled not
to look his way.
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