Any Other Name

Chapter 1

Eliza could see the nest, cradled carefully between the fork of a thick branch. In it were scraps of plastic and fabric, stolen from the street and park below, holding a tiny egg of speckled blue and white. She tried to focus on that nest, on how long it must have taken the mother bird to build, where the father bird was, why there was only one egg. 

 She could see through the branches and at the little dilapidated play set across the street, where the old woman next door tried to make pretty every spring by planting new flowers that Marshall would complain about. Eliza thought of that old woman and wondered what she would do if she saw Eliza up on the roof.

What would the air feel like? Smell like? How hard would it be to step off? Would she face the ground or fall backward and stare at the sky?

She tried to shake herself free of her thoughts and stood up from the chair by the window. She could hear that old woman next door playing the piano again, the soft melody just barely coming through the wall.

Ah, she should clean, or make some food. She could barely force herself all the way to the kitchen so she decided to just pick up around the living room—the books by the doorway, the mail and the box they usually kept it in, the photo frames kicked haphazardly into the corner.

Eliza carefully put the books back into order on the shelves and placed the mail back where it belonged after sorting it. She picked up the frames and put the ones that didn't have broken glass back on the wall. As she tried to think of where she could get more glass for the ones that were broken she found herself back in the seat by the window, looking through the branches at the trees on the other side of the dingy playground set.

The latch in the door lifted sometime later, followed by the deadbolt and the knob. Eliza stiffened in her seat and wondered if she had done enough that day. She knew she hadn't, but she couldn't help the bit of hope that sprung up as a lump in her throat.

"Elly, where are you?"

Eliza breathed a sigh of relief and let a genuine smile rise onto her face. He was in a good mood. Today would be a good day. She called from where she sat at the edge of the living room and soon Marshall appeared, tie already undone and a gift in his hands. "Hey there, hun." He came over and kissed her forehead, then slid the gift into her hands. "Here," he said, "to make up for this morning."

Eliza smiled up at him and gently pulled the tape off one end of the packaging. It was a book, it was always a book, but this one looked like something she had read in high school—which wasn't anything bad. The Bell Jar was one of her favorites.

"Thanks, Marshall," she said with as much spirit as she could muster and kissed him on the cheek. He patted her shoulder and told her dinner was on him tonight, something she wasn't expecting but was incredibly grateful for, even if it caused issues later.

Dinner was burned, if only slightly, but Marshall was adamant about letting her take the night off. He wouldn't let her get up to put her plate away or help dry the dishes while he cleaned them. He sent her off to bed to read while he finished some of the things he brought home from work at the kitchen table. Eliza didn't mind per se, but it made her uneasy to be told not to do what she usually did. She knew why he was being kind but that didn't soothe the worry.

When Marshall came to bed she had only read a few pages, stuck on the same paragraph that no matter how many times she read it Eliza couldn't understand. She shut The Bell Jar with a sigh and placed it on the bedside table. Marshall changed into a plain tee and his night pants and got under the covers. He wrapped an arm around Eliza's waist and pulled her close, tugging on her skin in uncomfortable ways. He pushed her hair aside to kiss her neck.