The Envelope

Carrie sat at the kitchen table, staring blindly at the oily film floating on her cup of coffee. Sighing, she stood from the table and dumped it into the sink. She refilled her cup for the third time. She needed the jolt caffeine would give her, but couldn't bring herself to drink the bitter brew.

Opening the refrigerator, she paused with her hand halfway to the cream. Her plump arm, illuminated and pale, mocked her. Drawing back, she closed the door and sat back down at the kitchen table.

Emily lay in her bassinet nearby, her wide eyes fixed in facination on the ceiling fan.

Todd still hadn't come home. It had been five weeks since their fight. After the first couple of days, she'd swallowed her pride and called him, begging him to answer, to talk to her. Finally, after threatening to keep Emily from him, he'd arrived at the house.

Carrie's hand clenched around the ceramic handle at the memory. He'd walked into the living room, anger etched on his face.

"You're a real piece of work, aren't you? Trying to keep me from seeing my daughter."

Carrie flushed to remember her response, "I'm so sorry, Todd. I didn't know any other way to get you here. We need to talk, to work this out."

"What we need to do, Carrie, is talk about your anger issues," he'd answered in his maddeningly calm voice. "You had no right to slap me."

"But you cheated on me," she had cried.

"There was no reason to resort to physical violence." With that, he'd picked up Emily and walked into the nursery, spending an hour playing with their daughter before leaving.

"I'll be back in a couple days. It might be best if you're not here," he'd said in parting, his cold voice slicing through her. He'd returned while she was at work and Emily was home with the nanny. Kristi reported that he always spent an hour or two with his daughter and then left.

Carrie slumped in the kitchen chair. Sighing, she took a sip of her coffee, wincing at the flavor. Setting the mug on the table, she pushed back the hair that had fallen from the sloppy bun at the nape of her neck. How long had it been since she'd washed it? Why did she even care?

A rapid knock startled her. Scraping the chair back, she stood and walked to the front door. It wasn't much past dawn, too early for visitors.

She opened the door cautiously and stared at the red car disappearing down the drive, music mixing with the dust. A light thud brought her eyes to the porch floor. A thick envelope sat on the smooth wooden boards. Stepping outside, Carrie tightened the belt of her terry cloth robe and reached down to pick up the envelope.

Turning it over, she saw her name scrawled in bold handwriting across the front. She opened it and slid out a packet of papers. Attached to the top by a binder clip, was a note.

"You deserve better and you damn well better believe I do too. I'm sorry."

It was signed with an "H".

Pulling the note free, Carrie's eyes widened at a photograph of Todd, his hand up the skirt of a woman wearing a sorority tank. His mouth was clamped on her neck, a beer in his free hand. She flipped to the next page to see a picture of him with another young girl, laughing into the camera while she had her hands down his pants.

Carrie fell bonelessly into the rocking chair on the front porch and looked at picture after picture. Each one showing her husband with one of the two women. At the bottom of each page was a url address for Facebook.

Anger bloomed in her chest, rising up her neck and into her cheeks. "That son of a bitch," she hissed. Standing quickly, she put the pages back into the envelope and slammed into the house.

"Kristi!" she shouted, taking off her robe as she walked towards the bathroom. Kristi, poked her head sleepily out of her bedroom, eyes widening as Carrie walked down the hallway in her underwear. "I'm going into town. Could you please call Henry and let him know I'm going to be late?"

"Sure," Kristi said, following Carrie, confusion on her face. "What should I tell him?"

Carrie turned on the water for the shower and grabbed a clean towel. "Tell him I've gone to find a lawyer. One that can get me the quickest divorce in Montana." Carrie closed the door and stepped into the steaming water.

Kristi stood outside the bathroom door, a smile creeping across her face. Spinning away she pumped her fist, "Yes! It's about damn time. Go Carrie!" Hurrying, she went to call Henry, her Alpha Phi socks slipping on the hardwood floor.


This was a piece of fiction inspired by The Red Dress Club prompt which showed a photograph of a group of cameras. Karen's been wondering what was in The Envelope that Honey dropped off at the house. I thought I'd let you know.

If you'd like to read more of this story, click on Fictional Mandyland. This particular bit comes immediately after Leaving Town.

And, as always, concrit is welcomed.