for June

19. A Long lost Wife

Late afternoon, when she could no longer stand the hunger, June made her way down, thinking she was home by herself. Thank God. Facing Chad with the knowledge about the night wasn't something she was ready to deal with yet.

When she went about getting herself an instant cup noodle from the cupboard in the laundry, she heard a woman humming in Chad's office.

June opened the door, thinking Chad had left the radio on or something. Instead, she spotted a tiny woman sitting in his chair, her ballerina feet up on the table, her pixie blonde hair visible over the rim of the journal she was reading. The same journal Chad wrote in often and guarded with his life when she was around.

"Who are you?" she asked, unable to help herself. She'd never seen this woman before, and it was a fair question. What the hell was this woman doing in Chad's writing space, reading his current work as if she owned the place, more or less?

The woman calmly looked up from the journal and smiled. "Hi, I'm Zach's wife, and you are?" she asked, getting up from the chair with the most inquisitive look on her face, scanning June from head to her toes like one looks on at a piece of art, or a fly they are considering the fate of.

Who is Zach? June wondered before it occurred to her that Zachary Eve was what the woman meant. "You're his wife?" she asked suspiciously, trying to spot a wedding ring on the woman's tiny fingers. She knew for sure Chad didn't have one, never did, not even the hint of a band with a pale ring around his skin. 

The woman nodded cheerfully. "I get that a lot." She laughed, approaching June in one of Chad's regular sweater, the light blue one that helped bring out his playful eyes. June didn't like it on the woman, not one bit. "I don't stay with him very much because my work requires me to travel a lot. It's a more long-distance relationship nowadays, honestly. Sometimes I think he forgets he's married. But whenever I'm in town, we try to rekindle things. You know how it is?"

June wasn't sure how to react to the half-naked woman in Chad's office, claiming him for her own. It wasn't the first time she'd bumped into one of Chad's lady friends, and it may not be the last either, she thought ruefully. What did she know about how rich-and-famous lived? Nada. Nothing. Maybe this was normal, their normal.

"Well, he's not home," she blurted, hearing her stomach grumble from the almost forgotten hunger. She headed back to the kitchen, not really wanting to deal with Chad's drama.

Cassie followed behind. "And you are?"

June popped the cup of noodles into the microwave and turned in on. "June. I'm a flatmate," the word tastes like chalk on her tongue.

"You'll kill yourself that way." Cassie walked around and turned the microwave off to June's surprise. "Why don't you sit down and I'll whip up something more edible for the two of us and we can get to know each other a bit."

June obliged. She wasn't about to pass up a cooked meal, even if the woman was slightly odd and way too friendly. "Sure, what do you want to talk about?"

Cassie smiled as she easily found her way around the kitchen. Her familiarity with it was wonderful to watch a master in her domain. Maybe the woman was right, Chad was married, and he pretended to live as a bachelor when she wasn't around.

"What do you do for work?" June asked in awe.

"I'm a chef, or I used to be. Now I help failing restaurants refit and redesign their kitchens, so they are more in line with current trends." She held up an onion towards June. "You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

June shook her head, "I don't think so, except lactose, maybe. I love milk, but I can't drink too much of it."

"Good." She brought out the chopping boards and knives and expertly set about peeling and chopping vegetables she'd been able to find in the fridge. "Get looked at. Lactose intolerance is common with your people—except maybe the Mongolians. I'm sorry. I'm assuming you're Asian." She waved at June's eyes, which were Asian, given the fact that she was half-Asian.