Trust
by Pan
Chores
It was just another day.
Well, not just any day. It was the day before Kitty’s birthday. Their daughter was turning eighteen: old enough to vote!
Anita ed her own eighteenth birthday as though it was yesterday. She’d been so proud, she was finally a grown-up, a woman. The drinking age in Canada was nineteen, but her parents had allowed her to have her first beer with dinner, and then she’d gone over to her girlfriend’s house and celebrated in a different way.
It was so funny, now, that she’d ever thought of eighteen as even remotely adult. Kitty, to her mother’s eyes, was still a child—perhaps she always would be.
Hell, even people in their early thirties seemed like children to Anita.
Perhaps it was a generational thing: at eighteen, she’d had a girlfriend. Kitty had never so much as glanced at a boy—or girl…at least, not that Anita had noticed. She made a mental note to ask her husband if Kitty had said anything to him. Young women trusted him; Anita had lost track of how often she’d come home to find another twenty-year-old that Ted was mentoring. Everywhere they went, he seemed to find someone who wanted nothing more than to confide in him.
It was a gift, really. He was so easy to talk to. Even when Anita was being irrational, he would always listen, and explain exactly what was happening, what she’d misinterpreted.
So yes, it was just another day, but every day with Ted was special. Even after twenty years of marriage, the couple still made time for each other, and Ted never stopped finding new ways to surprise Anita. New ways to make her fall even deeper in love with him.
“The bank, first,” she said, and Ted nodded at her with a smile. He was a little distracted—they had caught an Uber into town, and the driver was a blonde woman around the same age as Anita.
Anita knew nothing about cars, so she’d been surprised when Ted had sat in the front with the driver, instead of the back seat with her. He’d explained that he’d sat in the front because this model had a manual transmission, and that he wanted to see it up close.
If it had been anyone but Ted, Anita would have thought the way he kept telling the driver how to handle the stick was incredibly rude, but her husband was so good with people that she knew she didn’t need to worry. She couldn’t see the driver’s face, but she clearly loved her job—she kept giggling and making happy little sounds.
Anita had been staring out the window when Ted had let out a gasp. When she asked what was wrong, he’d replied—in a strained voice—that he’d forgotten to wear his seatbelt, and was worried he might get a ticket. Or, more accurately, that the driver would get a ticket. Apparently she was the one legally responsible for ensuring everyone in her car was safe.
“What’s that smell?” Anita asked, a few minutes later.
“This car’s a hybrid,” Ted replied, and Anita nodded.
She really didn’t know anything about cars.
When they arrived at the bank, Ted insisted on checking out the car’s motor. Fortunately, the driver was more than happy to show him everything. Anita stared at her phone, trying to hide her impatience as Ted narrated everything—the way the woman was taking her (car’s) top off, the size of her headlights, the dripping (of the oil), how far in the dipstick could go.
None of it meant anything to Anita, and she couldn’t help but wonder how the woman ever made money, if she spent forty minutes after each gig showing everything to her engers everything.
Still, at least Ted had found someone who shared his ion for cars. Both of them cried out in appreciation as Ted ’showed her how to do it right’, and not for the first time, Anita wished she had half his talent for making friends. It certainly made doing chores more interesting, even if it did take twice as long.
As they walked into the bank, Anita breathed a sigh of relief. The lines were short, and unless Ted made a friend in line, they’d be out in less than five minutes.
Well, Ted didn’t make a friend in line, but when he started chatting to the teller (a woman who must have been in her early sixties, though she looked great for her age) he began telling an anecdote about making a deposit, and Anita was unsurprised that the woman behind the counter was enthralled.
Anita loved Ted so much… and she wasn’t alone in this. The older woman was so entertained by the story, she invited her manager to hear it as well.
Anita tried not to tap her fingers impatiently as the two women asked follow-up questions, but when they asked if Ted could come out the back and demonstrate his methods, she couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Ted!” she said, doing all she could to keep the whine out of her voice, “We really have to get moving.”
“Why don’t you handle the florist, darling? We can group up again afterwards.”
Anita deflated slightly at the suggestion, and to his credit, Ted realized he’d made a misstep. He turned to the two women, who were shooting Anita looks of annoyance.
“I’m sorry, but my wife and I really have to go. It’s our daughter’s birthday tomorrow.”
“Eighteen,” Anita added, the excitement filling her voice. She knew that it wasn’t a big deal to anyone but a parent, but if the women had sat through Ted’s long story about making a deposit through the back door (of a bank, she assumed) they could put up with this.
“Congratulations,” the teller said. “I have a daughter as well.”
“Really?” Anita said with a smile. She wanted to ask how old her child was, but the woman’s attention had turned back to Ted, who was looking at her with a sheepish grin.
“Go on,” Anita said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Show them what they want to see.”
“Thank you,” her husband said, giving her a quick peck. “I promise, I’ll be as fast as I can.”
It was almost an hour before Ted returned, gleaming with sweat. Any anger that Anita had felt faded away as soon as she saw the look on her husband’s face.
“They enjoyed it?” she asked, and in response, Ted shot her a confident smile.
She didn’t understand how anyone could spend an hour demonstrating how to do what sounded like a fairly rudimentary deposit... but just as she wasn’t a car person, Anita also had no interest in the inner workings of a bank.
Her husband was fascinated by everything—and everything. They were so different, but perhaps that was why they made such a great couple.
Their next stop was the dry cleaner’s, just a few doors down. Ted was usually the one to handle this particular chore, so when the couple entered, she was surprised when Ted immediately began to strip.
“Ted!” she hissed. “What are you doing?”
“Dry cleaning,” he replied, a confused look on his face. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to do it. You’re not wearing a suit.”
“Oh,” Anita replied, feeling small. Looking around, no one else seemed to be taking off their clothes... but, of course, no one else was wearing a suit.
She didn’t fully understand what was happening, but Anita trusted her husband.
“Ted!” the women behind the counter said, her face lighting up. Anita’s eyes widened as the cashier, an Indian woman with a huge, toothy smile also began removing her clothes—and not only was she not wearing a suit, her outfit was only two steps removed from Anita’s own jeans and t-shirt.
“Anita, this is Priya,” Ted explained, and—unsure what else to do—Anita shook the naked woman’s hand. “Priya, this is my wife.”
Priya gave her a sympathetic look, and Anita couldn’t help but feel as though she was missing something.
“Your husband’s a sweetheart,” the naked woman said, and Anita nodded.
“I bet he loves to talk about dry-cleaning,” Anita joked, but Priya just stared at her like that was a strange thing to say.
Which, she supposed, it was.
“Do you want the usual?” Priya asked, and Anita spoke up before Ted could reply.
“He’s just picking up.”
“Yeah he is,” Priya giggled, and Ted put his hand on Anita’s shoulder.
“Actually,” Ted said, his voice low and serious, “do we have time for a quick one?”
“A quick what?” Anita asked, and now her husband was the one giving her a strange look.
“Priya does more than just dry-cleaning,” he replied. “She likes to give me a wet one—I love getting a polish from her. But if we don’t have time...”
“Please?” Priya said, her brown eyes wide and imploring, and Anita couldn’t say no.
It wasn’t until Ted disappeared into the back room with Priya that she realized he’d also taken off his shoes. She sat and waited, expecting her husband to pop back in and grab them, but half an hour ed before the door opened and her husband reappeared.
“You forgot your shoes, honey,” Anita said, pointing to the floor.
“Hmm?”
“For Priya to polish.”
“Oh no,” her husband said with a wink. “Priya is much more hands-on than that. She insists on handling everything herself, and then when things got really messy, she cleaned me up herself. She’s very good at her job.“
Anita nodded, a little confused. She supposed she could add ‘dry-cleaning’—or, in this case, ‘wet-cleaning’—to the list of things she didn’t understand.
“What’s next?” Ted asked, and Anita smiled.
“Grocery shopping,” she said. “There were a few more things on the list, but... well, I know how you are. I took care of most of them online while you were...”
She trailed off, and Ted finished the sentence for her.
“Dealing with Priya’s wetness,” he said, and Anita nodded.
“Exactly.”
The grocery store was another Uber trip away, but this time they got a male driver. Ted was as charming and chatty as he always was, but didn’t insist on sitting in the front, and when the driver dropped them off, didn’t even ask if he could look at the engine.
He could charm anyone, but Ted definitely had a preference for the fairer sex. Once upon a time, the close attention he paid to other women had made Anita jealous, but despite the decades of compromising positions she’d found her husband in, Ted had always had a perfect explanation. Now that she was in her forties, Anita had finally come to with his friendliness being just that: friendliness.
She trusted him.
The store was a small one, but Anita liked the brands they stocked, so they went every few weeks. She was in the mood for fruit, and headed directly to the produce section, Ted trailing in her wake.
“Oh, hello!”
Anita glanced over at the voice, and saw a girl, standing next to the bananas. She must have been Kitty’s age, perhaps a little older, though her uniform told Anita she was still in school.
“Hello, yourself,” Ted said, and Anita felt a warm glow. She loved that her husband was so friendly—everyone he met, it seemed, was an opportunity to make a new acquaintance.
The teenager blushed, and turned to Anita, who was busy examining the apples.
“You’re married, right?”
“Yes, we are,” Ted replied, and the teenaged girl nodded.
“I want to get married someday,” she said with a sigh. “I’m only eighteen, but I think about it all the time. What’s it like?”
Anita went to answer, but before she could, Ted had stepped in and taken the girl’s hand in his.
“It’s amazing,” he said with a smile. “My wife is the love of my life, and I’m so blessed to have found her.”
“That’s what I want,” the girl said, and Anita was unsurprised to see her husband’s hand moving up and down the teenager’s arm. He was so touchy, even with total strangers. Once upon a time it would’ve made her jealous, but now she knew it was just how Ted was.“Someone who will treat me like a princess and make sure I know I’m loved.”
Again, Anita opened her mouth to respond, but Ted beat her to it.
“You’ll find it,” he said, looking the girl in the eyes.
Anita just nodded. She wasn’t as confident as her husband was, but who was she to dash the teenager’s dreams?
“But how do you know when you have?” the girl asked, and Ted smiled.
“Would you like me to show you?”
For a moment, fear gripped Anita. The way her husband was looking at her husband seemed, just for a moment, almost predatory… but then, as quickly as her doubt had appeared it was gone, and she smiled as her husband led the teenage girl away.
She’d been right to handle the rest of the chores online. Something told her they were going to be there for a while.
* * *