I rarely write in the third person, so this story is an experiment for me. My thanks to Jeriscol for his editing and education about the commas and semicolons.
*
Marybeth stomped down the street trying to vent her anger. Brad had pissed her off every day this week, setting a new record for his insensitivity and selfishness. Moreover her wrist hurt where he'd twisted it trying to gain control over her and make her have sex with him the night before. She'd spit in his face and he'd thrown her across the room onto the sofa. Now that she thought of it, her hip hurt too.
"Oh, God," she thought, "I'm headed towards a divorce. He was so nice when we lived together -- and then we had to go and get married." The wedding had been two years ago and the marriage had gone downhill from there. A fleeting thought of the lavish wedding and reception flashed through her head.
"I'll call Jess later and see if she has any suggestions." Jess, her long-time best friend, had divorced her husband of five years the year before and now seemed to be living an idyllic life living and working in the Embarcadero in San Francisco. She had several attentive boyfriends that seemed to adore her and satisfy her every need. Marybeth pushed back the twinge of jealousy that crept into her mind when she thought of Jess.
"Coffee; must have a coffee." The aroma of fresh brewed coffee wafted onto the sidewalk as she passed the Starbucks near her office. As usual she turned and waited in line for the expensive brew.
Afterwards, as a reward that fine spring morning and also to cool her temper and anger at Brad before she went to her office, she sat at a small metal table outside the coffee shop and sipped the hot coffee.
It was then that she noticed renovations going on in the empty store next door to Starbucks. The store had sat vacant for almost two years, the art gallery that had been in the place had folded. She recalled the art had never appealed to her and that she'd never seen anyone other than the gallery owner in the store. No wonder it had folded. There was no indication of what the new store would become.
*
Two days later, Marybeth stomped down the street -- as usual. She thought, "Brad's setting a new record. He's been an asshole everyday this month." This morning he'd yelled at her for leaving her dirty clothes from the day before in a pile in the corner of the bedroom. Of course, his were strewn from one end of their condominium to the other, some of them smelly remnants of his basketball game with the guys the evening before at the court in the schoolyard near where they lived. He'd thrown a few things at her but fortunately they'd been clothing.
Also as usual, she turned into Starbucks glancing at the pile of construction debris piled curbside for trash pickup by the empty store next door. "That's quite a renovation they're doing there," she thought. I wonder what the store will be.
When her turn came to order her coffee she also asked the girl behind the counter if she knew what the store would be. The result was a shrug and a shake of the head.
On her way to work she peered through the windows of the construction site next door. The place would be some kind of nicely appointed office space. She could see that the contractors were preparing a number of separate rooms. Based on wires hanging from the wall, the place would be well connected with computers and such. She speculated on what kinds of business that might include: insurance? Investments? Telemarketing? Oh well, time will tell.
*
Two weeks later things had only gotten worse with Brad. Marybeth came out from Starbucks and sat down to enjoy her morning coffee. She thought, "I have to get my head off my hellish life with Brad and into my job. My marriage is affecting everything I do." Suddenly, she noticed the intriguing name for the store that had been under construction. The signage must have gone up the day before while she'd been at work:
Marriage Exchange
"Hummm.
Marriage Exchange
," she thought, "I'd love to exchange my marriage for someone else's. I wonder if they'll do that for me? Nah. Probably just a catchy name for a marketing company of some kind -- or perhaps counseling." After all, no one could exchange your marriage, could they?
She reflected on Brad's latest 'stunt' as she referred to them. He'd gone out drinking with the guys and not come home until one in the morning. Then he'd demanded sex with her. She'd told him on no uncertain terms to 'fuck off' and get sober. She locked him out of the bedroom, worried that he'd destroy the door. He'd slept on the couch, again, and was just rolling his slovenly body into gear as she'd left the condo. "What a mess I've made of my life -- my marriage," she thought.
The thought of sex flit through her mind and made her smile. She hadn't had sex with Brad for months. She decided to save her 'treasures' for some future, more deserving lover. Brad was turned off -- permanently. Nonetheless, she felt needy some days. She thought of Jess and her lovers. She'd call Jess later, if nothing more than to get her perspective on what she should do. Jess was earthy, but gave good advice and was always a good listener.
After she finished her coffee, Marybeth looked in the windows of the new shop again, however, there appeared there was no furniture or equipment yet in the offices. The following day, she asked about the shop at Starbucks but again only got a shrug indicating both indifference and lack of knowledge.
*
A week later, seething with her latest frustration with Brad, something to do with his anger over her meals and his drinking problem, Marybeth trod into Starbucks, her mind full of thoughts about how soon she could extricate herself from her husband. Such a shame I can't snap my fingers and make him vanish like the witch on that old black and white TV show.
A few minutes later armed with her coffee, she decided she'd better let her anger at Brad cool down before barreling into work with her current attitude. She sat at one of the metal tables and took a deep breath. "Maybe I should try mediation," she thought, "Or levitation; I'll levitate Brad right into the path of a speeding locomotive."
She looked across the sidewalk and for the first time realized that the previously vacant store now had come to life:
Marriage Exchange
. There were lights on in the establishment and she could see one woman moving around the outer reception area, neatening up the area.
Marybeth screwed up her courage, stood and walked towards the new store. As she entered a subtle sweet aroma of jasmine caught her attention and made her pause. She could feel some of her anger drain away.
"Hello," a woman's voice said pleasantly. "May I help you?"
Marybeth turned and looked at the woman: about her age, pretty -- no even beautiful, trim, wonderful skin tone, hair done in an attractive twist, silk blouse, black stovepipe slacks, low heels. "Yes, I guess." She paused and for a moment mused over how her own dress standards had declined as her anger at Brad grew. "Your store name caught my attention. I wondered what you did, or perhaps if you have a brochure."