(Dixie is sitting alone, on the brown leather sofa in her living room, legs crossed, head rested on one hand, deep in thought)
"Oh, bah," she mumbled. "What am I going to do?"
Every time it was like this. Anytime Tad left, or she left, or they reconciled or they married again, there was always that sinking feeling in her stomach. She didn't know whether it was an omen or a warning, she couldn't tell anymore. She closed her eyes softly and leaned up against a cushion, holding a small pillow in her hands. Tad walks in, eating a banana. He sits down next to her, peeling the sides.
"Hey Dix, I was thinking...since JR's at Adam's and Jamie's at Brooke's...why don't we play Scrabble?"
Dixie sat up, opened her eyes, confused. "Scrabble, Tad?"
"Just wanted to see if you were awake," he smiled, taking a bite of the banana.
"I'm awake I just...nothing."
"You just...felt like going to sleep?"
"I guess. Actually," she began, moving closer to him. "I want you to tell me about your day."
"About my day?" he asked, swallowing.
"Yeah, normal husband and wife things. Have you noticed we don't do them? I mean, when I see you I kiss you and I say 'love you' before I leave or go to sleep but...but we don't do other normal things."
"Like what?"
"Like..." she smiled. "Like eating together as a family...even if it's just you and me. We always go to SOS or BJ's or something, or we eat in here or we don't eat a meal at all."
"...okay, I don't have a problem with doing that. What else?"
"Well...we don't talk about things anymore."
"What are talking about? We talk all the time, we're talking now," he said, playfully, eating the last bits and playing with the peel.
"No...I mean about songs you like, or someone you met or how the weather is warm this time of year. We always make time to talk about other people's problems, and our own selfish problems, and our kids--don't get me wrong, I don't mind talking about the kids but...but what if I'd like to know what political party you're in and what book you read last...something like that."
"I thought you'd just pick up on it."
"Okay, Tad...what was the last book I read?"
He took straight ahead. "Uh...it was that one with the white cover wasn't it? Or was it blue...? It doesn't matter it was...The Great Gatsby, you were going to help JR write a paper about it. That, I remember," he smiled, egotistically.
"Yeah, I did read that this summer. But the last book I read was actually Sense and Sensibility."
"Really? Why'd you read that?"
"Tad!" she laughed, "what does it matter? You didn't 'pick up on it.'"
"Who needs to worry about the small things when you're in love?" he moved closer to her. "You're all I ever thinking about, not your books or what we're having for dinner." He moved closer, kissing her on the lips. He moved back a little, noticing she hadn't flinched. He moved back in a traced his tongue along her lips, kissing her again.
"Tad!" she exclaimed, pushing him back. "No, no, no, that's besides the point. I'm beginning to think I'm underappreciated."
He flung himself up against the cushions. "Underappreciated?"
"Yes. Like...I don't have a job. All I do is sit around and cater to you and JR and Jamie, and whoever else in Pine Valley who needs their Dixie-fix for the day. God forbid Palmer calls, I could be over there all day because someone turned a stamp the wrong way around."
"Dix, if you want a job...get one. But we tried this last year and look where we are now. I just...I want you safe at home."
"You always want me safe at home. You're not my father, Tad, and I'm not going to fall at any sudden moment."
"Because you're woman, and I can hear you roar?"
She laughed, "exactly."
"Can I still say 'I love you'?"
"Why wouldn't you?"
"Just checking." He paused, "Dix, I love you."
"Oh, bah," she mumbled. "What am I going to do?"
Every time it was like this. Anytime Tad left, or she left, or they reconciled or they married again, there was always that sinking feeling in her stomach. She didn't know whether it was an omen or a warning, she couldn't tell anymore. She closed her eyes softly and leaned up against a cushion, holding a small pillow in her hands. Tad walks in, eating a banana. He sits down next to her, peeling the sides.
"Hey Dix, I was thinking...since JR's at Adam's and Jamie's at Brooke's...why don't we play Scrabble?"
Dixie sat up, opened her eyes, confused. "Scrabble, Tad?"
"Just wanted to see if you were awake," he smiled, taking a bite of the banana.
"I'm awake I just...nothing."
"You just...felt like going to sleep?"
"I guess. Actually," she began, moving closer to him. "I want you to tell me about your day."
"About my day?" he asked, swallowing.
"Yeah, normal husband and wife things. Have you noticed we don't do them? I mean, when I see you I kiss you and I say 'love you' before I leave or go to sleep but...but we don't do other normal things."
"Like what?"
"Like..." she smiled. "Like eating together as a family...even if it's just you and me. We always go to SOS or BJ's or something, or we eat in here or we don't eat a meal at all."
"...okay, I don't have a problem with doing that. What else?"
"Well...we don't talk about things anymore."
"What are talking about? We talk all the time, we're talking now," he said, playfully, eating the last bits and playing with the peel.
"No...I mean about songs you like, or someone you met or how the weather is warm this time of year. We always make time to talk about other people's problems, and our own selfish problems, and our kids--don't get me wrong, I don't mind talking about the kids but...but what if I'd like to know what political party you're in and what book you read last...something like that."
"I thought you'd just pick up on it."
"Okay, Tad...what was the last book I read?"
He took straight ahead. "Uh...it was that one with the white cover wasn't it? Or was it blue...? It doesn't matter it was...The Great Gatsby, you were going to help JR write a paper about it. That, I remember," he smiled, egotistically.
"Yeah, I did read that this summer. But the last book I read was actually Sense and Sensibility."
"Really? Why'd you read that?"
"Tad!" she laughed, "what does it matter? You didn't 'pick up on it.'"
"Who needs to worry about the small things when you're in love?" he moved closer to her. "You're all I ever thinking about, not your books or what we're having for dinner." He moved closer, kissing her on the lips. He moved back a little, noticing she hadn't flinched. He moved back in a traced his tongue along her lips, kissing her again.
"Tad!" she exclaimed, pushing him back. "No, no, no, that's besides the point. I'm beginning to think I'm underappreciated."
He flung himself up against the cushions. "Underappreciated?"
"Yes. Like...I don't have a job. All I do is sit around and cater to you and JR and Jamie, and whoever else in Pine Valley who needs their Dixie-fix for the day. God forbid Palmer calls, I could be over there all day because someone turned a stamp the wrong way around."
"Dix, if you want a job...get one. But we tried this last year and look where we are now. I just...I want you safe at home."
"You always want me safe at home. You're not my father, Tad, and I'm not going to fall at any sudden moment."
"Because you're woman, and I can hear you roar?"
She laughed, "exactly."
"Can I still say 'I love you'?"
"Why wouldn't you?"
"Just checking." He paused, "Dix, I love you."
