Phillip Dimmle sat on the edge of his neatly made bed, still in his boxer undershorts, but with his finest button-down dress shirt on, with his red and blue stripped business tie, also wearing his black socks pulled up to his ankles in sharp contrast to the pasty white legs speckled with dark little hairs, as he watched a baseball game playing on the television perched above the dresser in his bedroom.
Phil was a slightly shorter than average man, with a less then average job, and a less then average house, and in it, he lived a less then remarkable life with his wife of thirty-four years, Marjorie.
Marjorie's voice, like the grinding of a jammed garbage disposal, could be heard distinctly over the sound of her hair-blow-dryer through the closed bathroom door, yammering on about God knows what-usually gossip or nagging-but tonight Phil detected a mixture of both.
The mysterious purpose of this evening's coming dinner had her worked into an anxious fit. She was positively livid over the not knowing of it. "I just don't understand what the point of all this secrecy is." Marjorie complained, " Why couldn't she just tell us what this big surprise is over the phone?"
Phil missed the last thing that she had said as a double header played out on the television. "Phil... Are you even listening to me?" She said, poking her partially made-up face out the bathroom door like a half-baked loaf of bread that needed to be cooked a bit longer.
"Phil!"
"What... Oh yeah yeah, secrets don't do anybody any good."
"Like you've heard a damned word I've been saying, and why aren't you dressed yet? Turn off that damned baseball and get moving. We're going to be late."
Phil was hoping to watch the next batter in the lineup as he approached the plate, but Marjorie starred fire at him until he complied with her demands, so he rose to his feet sluggishly in protest and turned the knob off. At which point, she returned her ungodly face to the restroom to finish applying the layers of make-ups to hide the damages of age and time.
As Phil pulled his slacks on he bitched to himself underneath his breath something about how it only takes him five minutes to get ready but it takes her an hour, and that's the real reason why they're always late, but never speaking loudly enough for her to hear it of course.
He glanced over at the closet door, which contained his carry-on suitcase. Over the years, it had become a symbol of his fantasies about leaving her, only being able to carry enough of his possessions for travel, but that would be all that he needed.
He could sleep in a van like a vagabond, and park out in the wilderness somewhere to live off the land like a real man's man, testing his survival instincts. He never really needed any of these comforts he thought; they were all for her, everything he did and gave of himself over the years, for her. But it was never enough, not by a long shot.
She wouldn't ruin tonight though-tonight was his daughter's night to break her big news. It was a secret that he alone had been privy too; a fact that pleased him immensely-knowing something before Marjorie. It was his daughter, Jenny's boyfriend, Eric, who had called him personally to ask his permission to marry her; a true sign of respect.
Also, inside his coat pocket, Phil had concealed a little surprise of his own. Just a small, something personal for him to add, and he was not going to let Marjorie's nagging ruin it-not tonight. He patted the jacket against his chest to feel the shape of the object inside and he smiled.
"Well... what are you standing around like an oaf for?-let's get a move on." Marjorie said as she ushered him from the bedroom, goading him along all the way through their house and out the door into their car.
Phil drove as usual, and as usual, Marjorie directed his driving from the passenger seat with all the zeal of a mid-level micro-manager. "Slow down Phil, pass that car Phil, why are you stopping Phil, I told you to turn back there Phil, now we're lost, I swear you've got the brain of a turtle..."
"No... you told me to turn right at the light." Phil calmly protested.
"I know what I told you Phil... You just need to cleanout your ears and listen. Oh here it is, turn right up here into the parking lot."
They parked in front of the restaurant, and Marjorie adjusted her lipstick in the visor mirror.
"I just don't understand what all the secrecy is about." She said as she wiped a red smudge from her teeth with her finger. "This isn't how family is supposed to behave. I mean really."
Phil could read through Marjorie's false objections, and he could tell that she was actually beaming with anticipation.
They encountered Jennifer and Eric waiting in the guest entry beside a fountain with multiple coy fish swimming inside its pond. It really was an elegant place. Phil imagined that this was the type of restaurant that Eric frequented with his daughter, and that was ok with him. He was glad she found a man that could give her a touch of the high-life.
Marjorie went ahead of him to embrace Jenny. "This place is too much, I mean, my God. Phil we'll have to split a meal, otherwise I don't think we could afford it."
"Dinner's on me tonight Mrs. Dimmle." Eric said this with a smile and charm that was typical of a hot-shot pharmaceutical rep. such as himself.
"Oh well then... Hold onto to this one dear-he's a keeper. The nicest restaurant your father ever took me to was the Lone Star steak house."
Phil felt a subtle sting of embarrassment, and although he was used to it, Jenny's embarrassment was obviously written across her face.
"Sheller, party of four, your table is ready" the hostess said. Sheller being Eric's last name; they had already become a secondary extension of the superior Sheller family.
Phil would sometimes imagine the least amount of things that he would need to live on, like if everything except a select few items was stripped away and he was forced to choose which items to keep. It was an exercise in simplicity. He would need his chair to sit at while he ate his breakfast, his bed and at least one shirt, one pair of trousers, socks and shoes. But what else did he really need? Perhaps a radio to listen to baseball games and some jazz if the spirit moved him. And of course his carving knife, that which he could pass the time by whittling away at wood until it formed some shape or character.
Whittling had become a hobby that fascinated him with over the years. It took patients and persistence to eventually shape the wooden piece, transforming it into a manifestation of his imagination. Marjorie would always nag him to put away his silly carvings, but what did she have that brought such joy into her life-nothing.
It didn't take long after they were seated for Marjorie to begin her badgering.
"So... tell me-what is this big secret that you brought us all the way out here for?"
Jenny and Eric clasped each others hand as they braced themselves to give the news, but were interrupted by the waiter.
"How is everybody tonight?" he said, "Can I interest you in our wine selection?"
"I wouldn't know where to begin." Marjorie blurted out.
Eric spoke-up to fill the void, "I'll have the Vermentino." he said to the waiter, and then directed his explanation toward Phil, "It has these subtle green herbal notes that pair perfectly with the salmon here." Although this display was pretentious, it was done with a poise that invited friendship.
"I'll have the Chardonnay." Jenny said, followed up by Marjorie who ordered the same.
It was now Phil's turn, last in line as usual, "Do you have just regular Coors light?"
"Coors light? Really Phil.." Marjorie chimed in like an off-key piano, "He's just joking."
"No... I'm not joking." Phil replied slowly, trying to hide the anger in his voice, "That's what I want."
"Of course sir." The waiter replied without any emotion or judgment as he cleared the drink menus.
"So tell me... how did the two of you meet?" Eric asked the Dimmles.
"Oh that was such a long time ago... You don't want us to bore you with ancient history." Marjorie replied.
"It wasn't that long ago." Phil said with a snarky wink, which Marjorie disregarded, "We actually met while working at this bowling alley called Strikes, over in Wahoo where we both grew up. Admittedly I was a few years her senor when she started there, and may have used my position of power as assistant manager to draw her in. Girls are attracted power." Phil chuckled.
"What I was attracted to was the fact that you had your own car." Marjorie retorted.
Phil went on despite her disinterest, "I can still remember the first time I saw her... with that fiery red hair. I knew then that I would spend the rest of my life trying to make her mine."
"Yeah, yeah, and we lived happily ever after. Enough about the past... I want to hear your news." Marjorie shut him down, but the warm expression on Jenny's face was enough to catch him.
Jenny had always been a caring person, even as a very small child her capacity for empathy was boundless. Phil recalled a time in middle school when he lacked the funds to send her on the class field trip to Washington D.C. with all the other students. And although it was something that she clearly wanted desperately, her concern at that moment was not for herself, but instead for minimizing how much it meant to her to spare Phil's own feelings of inadequacy. Phil hoped this smuck, Eric deserved her, or at very least appreciated her, for the light within her heart was truly rare.
"Okay mom," Jenny smiled brightly, "Here's the big news-" She raised her hand up from beneath the table, revealing the oversized shine of the engagement ring which she had somehow successfully hidden up to this point.
"Oh my goodness, will you look at that?" Marjorie took her hand from across the table to pull it in for closer examination. "That ring is spectacular. Phil! Look!"
Phil had a satisfied little smirk across his face.
"You knew, didn't you?" Marjorie said, as she smacked him on the shoulder.
"I called him for permission Mrs. Dimmle... I'm old fashion that way." Eric said.
Marjorie was still flustered though, "Phil, you little stinker... How could you keep this from me?"
Phil shrugged his shoulders playfully.
Marjorie's demeanor changed after the announcement-from that moment on, it was all party-planning mode as she spoke at a rabbits pace, "We need to invite the Kellers and the Fulsons, Oh and we can't forget the Andersons. Jill is going to just die when I tell her..."
Marjorie was doing what she always did-taking control, and Phil could see through Jenny's polite composure to the little girl beneath, overwhelmed by her daunting mother.
He hoped his own little secret surprise would bring a genuine smile back to her face, the way his little gifts and trinkets used to when she was smaller.
"I have a surprise of my own." He said with a voice too faint to disrupt the tide of Marjorie's clamor. So he repeated his statement again with more force, this time drawing the attention of Jenny and Eric, but it still took Marjorie a few moments to pause her speech.
"Yes dad...what is it?" Jenny smiled with anticipation in her welcoming way.
Phil removed a small box from inside his jacket pocket and placed it onto the table. It was a light brown cedar box lined with golden framing, and in it was his little surprise.
Jenny reached for it questioningly and Phil nodded her along. She opened it slowly before her perplexed countenance shifted to that of delight. The change always happened in her eyebrows first then slowly spread over the rest of her face like a domino effect ; Phil could read those eyebrows like a navigator could read the stars.
"Ohhh thank you dad. I love it." She said as she took the figurine from the box to show the others at table. It was a hand-carved bride and groom, shaped and painted in the likeness of Jenny and Eric. Phil had carved it himself.
"I figured you could use a cake topper." Phil smiled back.
"Absolutely not!" Marjorie weighed in, "No daughter of mine is going to display that silly little thing on her wedding cake for all the world to see. Really Phil, put that thing away and lets get serious here."
The anger welled up in Phil from places so deeply repressed within himself that he didn't even know were there. Thirty-four years of put-downs and insults came together in a rush of blood that struck his face stark red.
He thought to flip the table right there in the middle of the restaurant and strike Marjorie in her big fat mouth with the back of his hand, then strike her again and again, until all the hatred in his heart was satisfied.
But instead, he just sat there, silent; His mind had gone blank with rage. Jenny looked at him apologetically and Eric looked away, avoiding the awkwardness.
Phil barely spoke beyond a few polite responses for the rest of the evening. He was outside himself, watching from a distance as they brought the entrees and drinks. The laughter of nearby patrons seemed to echo falsely around him.
After dinner they said their goodbyes and congrats to Eric and Jenny.
"Dad, really... thank you." Jenny whispered as she kissed his cheek, and he mustered a polite smile through his sadness then they parted ways. His little angel had grown-up and was off to start her own life.
On the drive home, the dark wet road glistened reflectively as a gentle rain pattered against the windows. He focused on the rhythmic squeaking sound of the wipers over Marjorie, who was still blathering on from the passenger seat, unaware of the hurt that she had caused him.
"You embarrassed me." He said at last in a voice so low that it was almost a growl.
"What?" Marjorie replied.
"You... humiliated me back there!" Phil barked, probably the loudest he had ever spoken to her before.
"Oh I did not." She dismissed him as though it were just the tantrum of a child, "You embarrassed yourself is what you did."
Neither one of them spoke for the remainder of the drive home. For the first time ever, Phil understood with perfect clarity now what he must do. It was time for him to go, to leave to awful woman and start his life anew. Sure he would be alone, but that would be better then spending another moment with this she-devil who constantly tears him down, makes him feel like less then nothing, and doesn't even apologize for it. The future be damned, finally he was going to do it. He would fill up his brief case then hit the road and never look back.
Even now there was one thought that made Phil grin: regardless of the fact that he would surely be alone, so would she. Her looks had faded and her personality was unbearable, even to her own daughter; nobody would have her. Then whom would she nag and belittle all day, and who would listen to her gossip and bitching. She could choke on her just deserts and those deserts would taste like silence and loneliness.
Upon arriving home, Marjorie retreated to the restroom to begin her nightly ritual of removing her makeup. She hardly recognized the person staring back at her from inside the mirror anymore. Who was this old woman with cracked and wrinkled skin stretching over her puffy tired eyes? She had worried herself away. Always being afraid of the future and change, afraid of poverty and shame, afraid of being unloved. At least there was Phil to count on-steady and reliable Phil, despite his many flaws, he was at least that.
"You know Phil... If Jenny has her wedding in the spring, then we could make a vacation out of it." There was no reply.
"Phil...Did you hear me?" She exited the bathroom to find the bedroom empty aside from their neatly made bed staring back at her blankly.
"Phil?" She called down the hallway as she went in search of him. The living room and the kitchen were empty as well. There was one final spot where he might be found-at his workbench in the garage.
As she turned the handle to the garage door, a great sense of dread struck her cold. It was a bizarre sensation as if he wasn't going to be in there, like he had gone completely.
As the door opened, she found the familiar image of Phil hunched over his workbench in the light of his magnifying lens, engaging in some project of his, and she was at ease once more. Then she shut the door quietly behind her, leaving him undisturbed and returned to her bed, where she would read a book until he joined her for sleep.