Black Coffee

It was a day of no importance, nothing so special as to mark her calendar and count the days ‘til it arrived. The sun shined bright as it rose into a cloudless sky, she watched it rise as the coffee pot came to life with a loud sigh, as though it knew something the woman did not. She paid no mind to the machine and continued with the daily routine; up with the sun, coffee in the filter, preparing toast not too dark, as she sat at the table waiting for the same grey truck to pull up. Every morning nothing changed, she knew what the day held and took no comfort from it.
He pulled the truck into the driveway, inching along afraid to wake her despite knowing that she waited for him at the same table, day after day. He sat in the parked truck and let out a brief sigh. The flask in his coat pocket growing warm, threatening to ruin the precious contents.
The night before when he was supposed to be at work at the steel mill where he had spent long nights working hard for countless years until a week ago. The termination came as a surprise, they said the alcohol on his breath that night was the final straw. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her, not so close to this day. Every night the man put on his work clothes and left in the grey truck as she fell into a prescription induced sleep. He drove past the mill on his way to his personal escape, a small place right down the road where his poison was their specialty. He would do anything to forget everything.
It had been a year since the boy committed the most personal of all sins. The bottles lay empty next to the body, one a full refill from the pharmacy, the other stolen from the cabinet in the living room. She found him there, his body limp and lifeless one hand curled every so slightly around the bottles neck. The townspeople came with pitying looks and casseroles carrying on with false sympathies and promises that it would get easier with time. The space between them began to grow after that day, the once small crevice becoming the size of a seemingly bottomless canyon. The people in the town wondered why they stayed together but it was all they ever knew. Unhappiness together was more bearable than happiness apart.
She watched him sitting there, he thought he was so subtle with the truck turned off no lights on but like every other day she could see him. His bad habits failed to phase her these days. His behavior was an every day ritual lately. Except for Sunday, a small miracle in her eyes that he could give her just one day to go out and play normal in front of their peers. On the outside she liked to think they gave the air of a couple learning to cope after a tragedy, she had built up a persona to give this effect. Sunday was the day to leave the house, buy the things they’d need for the coming week, socialize with the people they once called friends and try and find the sense of normalcy they once had. The day of the week to stare at the stained glass windows once again and ask ’why?’
He stumbled into the house finally finished with the flasks contents. There she sat, just like everyday, one of the small comforts he had left, knowing she’d never leave him. Today was the day he decided, delaying it was no longer an option, she’d stand by him, he thought confidently. A brief flash of doubt passed through his thoughts as he opened the screen door. She stood to pour him his morning cup of coffee, no milk and two teaspoons of sugar and sat again as she handed him the cup.
She could smell it on him again as she slowly raised her cup to her nose attempting to block the smell. Some days it was too much to bear but this was the life she had chosen and this was the life she would live for now at least. The bags in the back of her closet called her name some days more than others. She didn’t know where she’d go but the bus station was a short walk away from the old farm house, leaving would be too easy with the hours he worked.
Today was the day, he decided as he took a long drink of the hot coffee waiting for her to look away liquid courage was the only thing that would make telling her easier. He took a long look at her that day as though seeing her again for the first time, her dark chestnut hair starting to gray it’s once curly texture having given way to lose waves, the gray eyes he remembered sparkling with such pleasure and love when she looked at him. His eyes slowly trailed down her body, she looked frail. Maybe today wasn’t the best day to tell her what happened at the mill, he thought to himself. The guilt set in once again as she stood to prepare him a light meal.
The words tumbled out before he could stop them. He soon found himself confessing the entire story of his termination to her. He ranted and raved about the no good sons of bitches and how they were lying about having alcohol on his breath when he came into work. He chose to tell her it happened today to negate suspicion about where he'd been all week. She replied with comforting words, assuring him they would get by and it would be just fine while in the back of her mind the bags seemed more and more tempting. He ate his meal quietly as she scanned the paper failing to read a word it said. Soon he would fall into a stupor in his favorite chair in the dark living room and she could make her move.
She walked quietly to the guest room’s closet despite knowing he wouldn’t hear her. He would be passed out for at least a few hours at least, plenty of time to make the move. She left a small note on the kitchen table hoping to be far down the road before he read it. The bags weighed more than she remembered as she made her way to the back door. Walking to the bus station took longer than she remembered but she knew it was the right thing to do it was her only chance at escape. A long time had passed since she knew what being happy was about and she intended to it again. Staring at the list of destinations on the bus list she bought a one way ticket to Tulsa back to the family she had abandoned so many years before.
As her bus drove away he awoke and wandered into the kitchen assuming she’d be there waiting for him.. The house held a quiet stillness as he stood in the kitchen, nothing looked different but things felt different. He looked around bewildered knowing she didn’t venture out of the house except on Sundays. He glanced briefly down at the table to where the letter sat.
Virgil,
I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.We've both known for a long time that this is over. It ended the day that James died. I’ve gone back home, where I belong. I do not expect you to follow. All I have taken is my clothes and the small bit of money I’ve collected in my savings account.
Yours always,
Mary Elizabeth
He sat at the table the cup of coffee she had poured him just this morning. The shock was starting to wear in as he walked to the living room, grabbed a bottle then poured its contents into the glass. He downed the warm liquor and chased it with the cold coffee she had prepared for him without tasting it before walking out to the truck. A trio of black birds watched silently from the only tree in the yard. In the dash board he found what he was looking for and took it to the old barn. He couldn’t help feeling cowardly before he went through with the act. The birds scattered as the gun went off with a bang.