ivy

Chapter 1

"Dorothea!" Yelled a deep, far off voice. It echoed through the mansion. The vases shook as the voice made its way to the library of the house.

I shuddered at the sound of my husband's voice. I didn't realize John was home already. I had thankfully already set the table. I didn't want him to come home without everything ready.

"Yes?" I replied as I placed my tea and book onto the table and rush to the front door. I see him standing at the doorway, with his face looking annoyed, waiting for me.

"Where were you? When I get home you are expected to greet me at the door and take off my coat for me." He replied angrily.

"I'm sorry, you're just here earlier than I expected. You're normally home by 6:30 but it's 6:15." I softly replied.

"Oh! So it's my fault that you were not here to greet me when you are supposed to?"

"What? No..that's not what I'm-"

"I go to work everyday! I pay for this house! I pay for all of those stupid books and poems you read! And for what? So I can get home with my wife blaming me for her mistake?"

"No. You're right. I'm sorry. It's my fault." I quietly said as I helped him take off his coat. He rolled his eyes as he headed to the dining room.

I feel so stupid. I should've been waiting by the door. I don't want him to be angry at me. I don't want anyone to be angry at me. I want to be perfect for everyone and everything but sometimes it's hard.

I followed him as he made his way to the table.

"I set the table for you! I used all the fancy plates and everything." I said proudly. He was always bothering me about how we never use the fancy plates that today I did.

"Uh ok. What do you want me to do about it?"

"Nothing! I just decided that since-"

"You talk to much. I am your husband, you should listen to me instead of talking to me."

"Oh! Um sorry."

He sat down at the head of the table and scoffed at me.

"I work so hard for this life so this is the minimum you could do."

"Okay. Sorry."

"Also, wear your hair up instead of down. If you wear it down there will be loose hair everywhere and we've already got too much of that from that cat you insist on keeping." He said, gesturing at my kitten, Betty. She's a British shorthair, my favorite breed.

"If it were up to me, that cat would be on the streets." He said.

I touch my hair. It doesn't fall out. I don't say anything though. I grab a hair tie and pull my hair into a ponytail. I have light brown hair with some subtle hints of blonde.

"Where's my dinner?" John's voice boomed.

"Uhh it's almost ready. I made your favorite, lasagna. It just has to cool a bit..." I replied shyly. I didn't want him to criticize me again but maybe I deserved it.

"Bring it out now!"

"But-"

"I said bring it out! You really are good for nothing."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I walked to the kitchen. Just because I might deserve it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. The truth hurts. I grabbed the pan of lasagna and I brought it to the table. John sighed.

"Finally." He rolled his eyes. He grabbed some at slapped it onto his plate. I thought he was going to crack the plate with how roughly he put the lasagna onto it.

"Be careful please. It's-" I started.

"Be quiet woman. I know what I'm doing."

He took a forkful and put it into his mouth. The next second felt so long, from the moment the food touched his tongue to the moment he spit it out back into his plate.

"DOROTHEA! THIS FOOD IS SO HOT!" He yelled.

"Sorry! I told you it was-"

"Who cares what you told me?? What matters is that you basically burnt my tongue!"

"I-"

"God Dorothea! Can't you do anything right?"

"I'm sorry.."

"That's it! Dinner is ruined. I'm going to the living room!"

I froze as he stormed off. What just happened? We were fine a few minutes before, weren't we?

After a few moments I decided to eat. I didn't want to waste, and after all, I was hungry. I grabbed some and carefully put it onto the plate. Then I grabbed a fork and ate my food. It wasn't my favorite food but it was okay I guess.

Once I finished eating I grabbed the plates and went to wash them. I polished them and made them shine. Hopefully I did that right at least.

Afterwards, I went to the library again and sat down by the toasty fireplace. I got my notebook and a pencil and I started writing. I'm a poet. Not officially I guess but I write poems. I never share them with anyone, though.

When I was little all I wanted to do was write but my parents were more concerned on getting me a husband. My sisters were concentrated on themselves, so I had no one to share them with. John doesn't like my poems. He says they are boring. I never share them with him anymore, not that I'd like to anyways. He would always just say 'oh cool' before going back to doing what he was doing. I always feel like I'm not enough.

After a while of writing, this is what I came up with:

I sit and watch you reading with your
Head low
I wake and watch you breathing with your
Eyes closed
I sit and watch you
And notice everything you do or don't do
You're so much older and wiser and I

I greet you with a battle hero's welcome
I take your indiscretions all in good fun
I sit and listen
I polish plates until they gleam and glisten
You're so much older and wiser and I