Divorce Her!

*Anna*

I eat dinner in my room by myself. I get ready for bed in my room by myself. When I pull the blankets over my shoulder on my sofa-bed, I’m by myself. Down the hallway, the rest of the family is either finishing their dessert and coffee, laughing and chatting, or they’ve moved to their respective rooms together to share an evening of television or conversation–together.

Not me. I’m always by myself. Even when another member of the Young family is with me, I am alone. They certainly don’t see me as part of the family.

A single tear slips down my cheek, but I don’t wipe it away. Crying has never done me any good. All I can do is keep trying to prove myself to everyone that I am worthy of my new last name, that I can make the other family members proud.

I’m beginning to doze off when I hear voices outside of the door. I recognize Grant’s voice as he says, “That’s not true,” but I don’t know who he’s talking to at first.

Grandmother Trudy's voice is impossible to mistake for anyone else, and she doesn’t bother to keep quiet as Grant was trying to do. I could barely hear him, but she may as well be shouting in my ear. “It is true,” Trudy says. “She is worthless. Your parents never should’ve allowed this marriage. Your mother is too soft. I shouldn’t have ever approved of your father marrying her either, for that matter.”

“Grandmother,” Grant says, and I hear a pleading tone in his words, “please don’t speak about my mother that way. I know she has a soft heart, but she is a good woman. You know she has brought many blessings to our family.”

“The only blessings Mary has ever brought the Young family are Scott and you,” she says, and it’s one of the kindest statements I’ve ever heard from her mouth. She follows it right up with one of the meanest. “Divorce her, Grant. Get rid of the excess baggage. You know Barbara Smith is still not married. Her family is very well off, and she’s both smart and beautiful. She could run circles around that sorry excuse for a wife you have in there.”

My mouth falls open as her words sink into my soul. Of course, I know Grandmother Trudy and the other Youngs think I am worthless, but to hear her trying to find a new wife for my husband, well, that hurts more than anything. Especially when I think of that awful Barbara Smith. I know exactly who she is. A socialite who was hanging around my husband before my mother secured our marriage with his parents. She thought Grant would be hers, but she lost. I have no doubt she’s still plotting to take him from me, and it sounds like she has a very powerful ally.

If Grant agrees, I will not be able to control my tears. I brace myself for what he might say next.

“Grandmother, I’m not sure we’ve ever given Anna a chance. What if we gave her a small opportunity at the corporation? Made her a secretary or something? I’m certain she could do that. Answer phones, type letters–”

Grant doesn’t get to finish his sentence before the cackle of Grandmother Trudy laughing interrupts. “You think she could handle that? Don’t be ridiculous! She can’t even handle getting a wine stain out of your sister-in-law’s skirt!”

My husband sighs. “Grandmother, that’s a very different kind of work than what we do at the company.”

“I know that Grant, and I wouldn’t trust that imbecile wife of yours to sharpen pencils in the conference room. You know how she was raised–never disciplined, without a father, allowed to run amuck amidst the gardens all day.”

“She did go to school, Grandmother. And she did quite well.” I can’t believe Grant is standing up for me at all against his grandmother.

“Ha!” Trudy says. “I doubt that’s the case unless she took silly classes like… basket weaving and clay pottery.”

“Grandmother, it would break my mother’s heart if I were to ever formally reject Anna. You know that.” 

Another tear springs to life in my eye. Just hearing my husband say those words, as if he might consider divorcing me if it wouldn’t hurt his mother, with no regard for my feelings, makes me want to burst into tears, but I can’t let them hear me cry or else they’ll know I’ve been listening.

“Just think about it, Grant,” Grandmother says. 

“Fine.”

That word is like a knife jabbed through my heart.

“Get some sleep,” Grandmother Trudy says. “We have that meeting tomorrow to come up with a way to get Savage Enterprises to let us have the contract on that new lot downtown.”

“I will,” Grant says. “Goodnight, Grandmother.”

 I hear the sound of his lips smacking against her cheek and cringe. He’s never once placed his lips on me, not even at our wedding. The preacher said, “You may kiss the bride,” and he air kissed me. In front of everyone.

The door opens quietly, and I immediately close my eyes. Grant’s footsteps are light as he enters the room, trying not to wake me, I assume. He is very thoughtful, most of the time, even if he doesn’t really like me.

“Anna?” He’s still standing across the room, near the door. I can tell by the distance at which he’s whispering my name. He probably wants to know if I heard the conversation or slept through it. He doesn’t need to know that I heard it–every painful word of it. 

When I don’t respond, he sighs again and heads to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

I wish I could bury my face in my pillow and cry, but that won’t do anyone any good. All I can do is continue to try to prove to the rest of the family that I really am worthy of Grant–and their last name. But they won’t even give me a chance. I feel so defeated. So lost. So worthless.

The only way I can imagine I would ever feel worse is if that horrible Barbara steals my husband from me.

I can’t let that happen.