Daisies and Dances

Isaac stirred first, his body twitching itself awake in the somewhat early morning; just before his lilting alarm was due to go off. He took a moment to bask in the warmth of his sheets, to rest his hand in the crook of his wife’s waist, before he migrated sleepily to the bathroom. After a short and steamy shower, he rolled his shoulders and stretched in front of the mirror, examining his hairline for any touch of grey. His father never ceased to remind him that he started greying in his early thirties. Isaac did not intend on greying so soon.

He rubbed a spot of cocoa butter into the dry patch on his palm, and unlocked the bathroom cabinet, swinging the little wooden door open. He moved the bandages and disinfectant aside and grabbed a little plastic medicine cup, popping pills into it in accordance with the week-long schedule taped to the inside of the door. He double-checked the doses and strengths and locked the cabinet again securely, before making his way back to the bedroom, placing the little cup on Marie’s bedside table. Isaac placed a hand on her arm, shaking her gently.

Marie groaned at being roused, her light brown eyes taking a moment to focus on him. Her dry lips twitched into a little smile that she seemed to have every time she looked at him and she breathed heavily. She was thinner and paler than when they had first met.
“Good morning. I brought your meds.” Isaac pushed the little cup full of pills towards his wife, along with the glass of water she kept there. His ring glinted in the morning light, brilliantly gold. Marie closed her eyes as she took a big gulp of water with her medicines, tucking her left thumb under the rest of her fingers. She let out a deep breath, opening her mouth for Isaac to check that she really had swallowed them.

Content, he kissed the top of her head before he headed to the kitchen to start on breakfast. He decorated the top of her muesli with exactly three blueberries and one strawberry, just the way she had to have it. She emerged from the bedroom at precisely 7:34a.m, appearing in the doorway like a shadow. He slid her bowl across the breakfast table and watched as she cracked the knuckles on her right hand first, then her left, from pinky finger to thumb.

He took his own place at the table, the sweet blueberries breaking open on his tongue. Marie touched her left thumb to her lips and touched the wooden doorframe on her way to join him and they ate together in peace. Marie’s bloodshot eyes rested on his face for a while and then on her vase of fresh daisies. She did love flowers, Isaac remembered with a warm glow. He had given her daisies on every one of their dates and on every anniversary after their wedding. She received them the same way every time, with a beaming grin and a shy kiss on his cheek, before blushing and taking his hand. As well and as intimately as they knew each other, Marie often restrained her physical affection for him, fearing she would be too forward. Isaac loved her more for it.

He put his plate in the sink and filled it with water, for ease of washing, before making his way to the bedroom again and laying out a simple grey skirt and red blouse. He took her plain black Mary Jane shoes from their place in the wardrobe and placed them delicately beside the bed. Isaac took a deep breath, surveying the room. Marie would set it straight, exactly as she needed it. She would start as soon as he left; he knew it. She was quite possibly beginning to get anxious now, waiting for him to leave so she could start.

Isaac picked up his briefcase and went out to the dining room, where he placed his warm hand over his wife’s fidgeting hands, and kissed the top of her head lovingly. Her fingers worked under his, peeling and scratching at her skin, trying to pull it away. He pressed down slightly, stilling them. Marie shifted her head to the left violently, and Isaac heard her neck pop loudly, before she swung her head back around to the right. He stole the opportunity to kiss her neck gently and she smiled up at him, a twinkle of herself in her eyes.

Isaac whispered a goodbye into her ear and she grabbed his hand, her red-painted and bitten nails digging into his skin sharply.
“I love you,” she told him earnestly, and he knew how deeply she meant it. It seemed to come from her very soul and it resonated through her, making her eyes glisten wetly. He cupped her face and kissed her softly.
“I love you too.”

The warmth of her lips did not leave his until he was halfway to work and he touched them with his fingertips. His wife was a woman easy to love, but not to care for. He tapped the pocket of his pants, checking that he had the key to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. He did and he breathed out properly for the first time that day. His mind cleared. He thought he might ask her to dance tonight.