Eoa Had to Hide Behind Her Clean Sheets

If this looks familiar, it is. I meshed two story ideas that I have been playing around with for a bit. This is my rough draft for my creative-writing class. Thanks for reading it.

Eoa Had to Hide Behind Her Clean Sheets

Eoa’s clumsiness made her noticeable. Her laughter made her enduring. But the way she hung out her clean laundry made her sexy. Eoa tripped over her basket every time. She laughed to herself as she shook her head in disbelief grabbing the next item to be strung up on the line. Humidity pressed against her thin cotton dress. The smell of damp green grass lifted with her every step. Her open-toed sandals were worn with hints of pale green stains on the heals. Eoa spied Sean over the bleached sheets as they snapped in the flirty breeze. Tapping her foot to his tunes, she wondered if he could dance.

Sean liked to read on his porch. His whiskey sat on the old wood bench with one cube of ice cracking in the summer heat. The smell of tomorrow’s rain mixed with the smoke of his cherry scented tobacco as he lit his pipe. Birds darted from one tree to the next. Music playing, he looked over his books as Eoa, hung up her sheets. Sean’s books were his disguise. He looked like he had been reading when in fact, his eyes never moved from her. The tunes he spun, he spun just for her. His heart kept beat with her as she twirled between the knit delicates and the darks. If the wind was just right, he could gather a wisp of her perfume. He could see the shimmer of her tears as the afternoon sun swept over her cheeks.

Eoa disappeared behind the sheets so she could cry. Twenty years of forgotten birthdays, Valentines, and anniversaries left her with self-doubt. The let-down of Christmas morning with nothing special under the tree had gifted her an overwhelming feeling she had been damaged goods with a lost receipt. Her greatest gift from her husband was the day he told her to leave; the marriage was over.

“I’ve found someone new and I would like her to move in with me.”

Eoa felt the kitchen floor tilt and her head spin. A vile and acidic film began to coat her throat. The anger boiled her blood.

“For twenty-five years I have stood at this kitchen sink and scrubbed layers of skin off my hands.” She held up her hands.

“I have varicose veins that look like an atlas of Chicago from years of standing at the stove cooking three square meals a day. Not to mention all the baking.”

“I have dusted, swept, mopped, scraped shit off toilet bowls, and performed my wifely duties even when I actually had a headache.”

 “Every Christmas I get a new blue bucket. Blue because it is your favorite color. Soap,” She stumbled over her words, “you get me soap just for washing the cars. Then you fill my stocking with the candy I bought for the church program on Christmas Eve.”

“You have forgotten twenty-three of the twenty-five wedding anniversaries, not one Valentine’s card, and the only reason I ever had a cake on my birthday is because our daughter started making them once she was old enough.” Eao stepped closer to the door.

            “You have called me horrible names. Told me I was crazy when I had started putting the pieces together about your affairs. You lied for all those years and when I finally caught you in the act your only response had been to blame me.”

She used her fingers in air quotes. “Oh, you were lonely and had your needs. I was spending too much time with the kids. That is what a mother does you asshole. She spends time with her kids!”

 Eoa opened the kitchen door, “No, I will not be the one leaving today. You will be leaving.”

Her husband solemnly sulked out the door.

“You are lucky the door didn’t hit you in the ass. Because, I was aiming.”

Her husband quickly moved on. Rumor through the small town had told her he was living with a girl half his age who had three kids from two different dads.

Sean knew why Eoa cried. In the two decades she lived next door, he never saw flowers ascend the front steps. Empty boxes tossed out the day after Christmas had always been for bright and shiny plastic toys. Eoa only left the house to go to the grocery store, orthodontics with the kids, and school activities on a Wednesday or Friday night. Sean could hear the raised voice of the husband. He saw the anger in his eyes; his jaw always clenched. Sean often thought to himself, a woman like her should be taken out on the town and shown off not hidden away for the sole purpose of domestic burdens. Especially not hiding behind the clean sheets crying.

Eoa dreamed of the day where she could get dressed up with an adult place to go. She would love to get back out on the dance floor held tight with the sound of her lover’s voice cooing in her ear as he spun her around. Her body pained for the gentle touch of another.

Sean’s music varied from cool jazz to fresh folk, and a dash of sixties rock. He knew what music Eoa liked. He knew what song made her tears stop falling and made her feet step in time. Jazz made her the perkiest; Van Morrison made her sing. Every now and again he would play nineties pop just to watch her hips move. It left him feeling guilty afterwards, so he saved those songs for once in a blue moon. They both shared a love for indie-folk; Ceitidh Mac was his favorite, hers too. How he wished to be right there next to her. Whispering secrets of affection in her ear.

Eoa could cry only for so long after the music started to play. She took her time hanging up the wet clothes. Hiding behind the laundry, she could at least tap her feet and sway away the hurt.

He turned the radio up a notch right before he descended the steps of his porch. With a shaky confidence, Sean walked over his drive and into her yard as she hung up her white sheets.

Eoa knew it had been wrong to pine over Sean. She remembered when his wife passed away. It was a few months after they moved in. Eoa could never understand why he never remarried. He was younger back then and he had a good job working at the university in the communications department. The first thing she had noticed about him when she moved in had been his difference compared to her husband. Where her husband was tall and angry, Sean was the same height as Eoa and always carried a smile on his face. Her husband slammed doors as he moved about and Sean slipped through the world without making a sound.

“Hello there neighbor.”

Eoa fought with her sheets against the strong summer breeze as the sharp smell of bleach snapped at her nose. Sean’s greeting startled her.

Sean’s hands reached out and took the other end of the sheet. Gently he pulled it over the line. Eoa passed him a clip. He reached for it and took her hand in his. He did not have to try to pull her close because she went to him.  

“I have watched you for the last twenty years struggle with your laundry.”

“You have?” It was then Eao heard the music coming from Sean’s porch.

The music crooned while the sheets swayed in the summer breeze. Their bodies a gentle mesh, fitted together like the last puzzle piece tenderly placed. Their heads rested on each other’s shoulders.

            Tears slid down Eoa’s face; Sean wiped them away.

“I have waited to have this dance with you for quite some time.” Sean said.

“It’s been so long since I last danced; I might step on your toes.”

“That’s okay, I won’t break.” He spun her out and snaped her back grabbing at her waist and pulling her in, he held her tight. “I see you when you cry behind the sheets.”

“You do?”

“I know why you cry and I am sorry.”

Looking down at her feet, her face heated up. “I didn’t think anyone saw me out here.”

“I always see you.” He turned her out into a spin. Their hands were about to release from each other when he held her hand tight and spun her back into him.

“I guess I will have to find another place to hide.”

“A woman like you should never hide.”

They danced through one slow song after another hidden among the laundry. The warm summer sun clung to the horizon as Eoa and Sean danced into the night. That was the last time Eoa had to hide behind her clean sheets.