“Hello?”, Felicia greeted in a nervous, quizzical tone.
“Hello! Where the heck are you, Felicia? I’ve been worried sick” Ted bombarded her.
It was now or never for Felicia to stand her ground. No longer should she present herself as the little doe too scared of her shadow to speak up for herself.
“Is that any way to talk to your wife?” Felicia fired back.
“Well, if I’d known that my wife would pull a disappearing act, maybe I would have been more prepared for a gentler response.”
“Look Ted! I just called to let you know I was ok and to make sure the kids were fine. Well….” Felicia trailed off, “and to get some things off my chest”.
“Off your chest? What in the world could you possibly have on your chest that you have to get off?””
Ted’s tone was ruffling Felicia’s feathers to the point where she wanted to just hang up. Instead, she chose to ignore Ted’s blustering and move into her true reason for the call.
“I’m 43 years old and have nothing to show for my life….MY LIFE. I feel like a doormat; just living at the mercy of other people. It’s Felicia do this or do that without ever asking me what I want. I’ve always second guess myself so I thought that everyone else knew better. But now, when I think of it, how can anyone else dictate what makes me happy. I have to do that. “
After a short pause, Felicia continues, “I spent my life trying to please my parents and you. The dreams that I had were tucked away in the recesses of my mind. I guess….it took the reunion to show me that time was not standing still. I’m sorry for going about things this way, but I felt overwhelmed and resentful. I had to get away.”
With a softer tone Ted remarks, “Felicia, why didn’t you say something? All these years I thought we were working on our family and goals together. Now, I feel like I’ve been living with a stranger. I really don’t know how to deal with this. And what about the kids?”
“I know this is all new to everyone. I wish I had the answers, but right now, I’m trying to figure things out myself.”
“Well, I hope it’s soon. Your parents are a nightmare.”
And in that moment, Felicia’s parents rang the doorbell.
“Speak of the devil.” Ted muttered.
“I have to go. I don’t want to talk to them. Please! Don’t let them know I’ve called.”
“Felicia, I’m not going to lie to them. I can at least tell them you’re alive and kicking.”
“You could, but I know my parents well. They will pay good money to have someone trace the call to determine my whereabouts. Right now, I just need some space and time.”
“So, when will I hear from you again?” Ted asked.
Unsure on how to answer, Felicia answered, “I won’t make any promises, but I’ll try to call in a couple days.”
After a moment of silence, and without a closing salutation, they both hung up.
XOXO, Melanie Dawnn
Photo: Notagrouch
Copyright © 2013-2014 ✽ All Rights Reserved
Before nighttime fell, Felicia’s husband, Ted, had already called everyone to find out the whereabouts of his wife. He had overlooked the note on the kitchen table until he ventured to find dinner for the kids. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why she would leave. Didn’t he provide for his family? Didn’t he love her the way she wanted and needed? How could she do this? Feeling a sense of anger form in his gut, Ted retreated to the den to let off steam.
On Tuesday, Felicia waited for her husband to leave for work and the kids to school. She hurried upstairs to grab the suitcase she had packed little by little over the course of the last week. She signed into her other email account created just for this adventure to make sure that her reservations were set. She decided that she’d use cash just to make sure there was no trail. Once she had what she needed, she printed off her documents and then logged out – making sure to clear any trace from the internet history. Grabbing her purse and keys, she walked towards the side door to the garage – stopping to look back at the life she was trying to escape. One last thought rushed into her mind. Should she leave a note or just vanish without a trace? She opted for the former thinking it selfish if anyone worried about her. Taking pen to paper, Felicia wrote: 
Melanie V. Logan 