CHAPTER TWO

Embarrassed. She was embarrassed.

Sappho wanted to hide under a rock. She wanted to go into the closet and never come out. Lock the closet door, throw away the key and be lost forever, rinse and repeat. Maybe she needed to stop smoking ganja too?

Gotta stay away from that Death Star Kush… the merlot with dinner probably didn’t help either, she was hiding underneath the comforter yet kept her eyes shut.

Last night…

Sappho drifted back to last night, back to the way Matt’s fingertips glided her cheek before diving into her cacao hair, pulling her close. Everything was going so well.

Matt probably thinks his dad was right after all- I really am a no good liberal witch whore! She buried her face into her pillow and groaned.

She felt like Matt would never respect her again. He may still love her, sure- the memory of him holding her during Beau’s birth lulled her back into an adoring haze…

But who cares about love!? she thought, throwing the comforter off and hopping out of bed. When the floor creaked under her bare feet, her eyes went wide with panic as she looked back at her naked accomplice, the comforter brushing his hairy thigh.

Still snoring and drooling- cool, she sighed, turned her bare back to him and tiptoed away to the closet. It was already open- she nimbled into it naturally like a nymph and waved behind her, commanding the closet door to softly close. She bent down next to the wooden birch chest nearby that had her socks and underwear. She completely ignored the beautiful temperate rainforest that surrounded her and her closet space.

I need respect, not just love, she stubbornly reaffirmed while picking up different socks to find two that matched. She had to wave her hand again to clear away forest mist that had seeped into the chest and blocked her view.

After last night, though?

How could Matt ever see her as a respectful man-eating witch again after that?

She finally found a matching pair but suddenly lost her balance, her bare bottom landing on the cool moss covered ground. She shivered.

Nope, all’s lost! He’ll ask for divorce after this, she irrationally concluded as she shoved on a pair of fuzzy grey wool socks.

And then I'll only see the boys on weekends, she wrung her hands through her hair in anxiety.

She knew deep down that Matt would gladly eat horse manure before leaving her- but her conscience overwhelmed her subconscious.

Having only weekends with the boys would be hard! How would I have time to help Jeremy with his homework when he starts school? He’ll never become President without me, and some rich dumbass will be President instead. Screw that! Sappho felt miserable.

She reached forward back into her chest, grabbed some cloth, then rocked back to sitting on her backside clutching the fabric to her chest. Her imagination ran wild like a firecracker. Her thoughts finally jumped to the main source of her sorrow- a handsome hairy beefcake still snoring in bed.

Dumbass, she blushingly huffed as she unclutched the boxers from her chest then pulled them over her legs and up her waist. A group of cute birds and furry critters appeared out of nowhere then carrying a shirt, pants, jacket, tie, and shoes. The adorable creatures carefully placed her clothes next to her before their smiling faces settled on hers in joy.

“Whaddya guys want, a tip? Get out of here! Don’t you know a dirty ho when you see one?!”

Sappho waved her arms frantically and the cute critters scurried away, then she pathetically cried. She howled and sniffed as she dressed, feeling restricted by clothes she usually found comfortable. A tree branch reached out to offer her support as she walked back to the closet door with shoes in hand- she batted it away. It gave a hurt whimper of a sound as it retreated.

She wiped her eyes before reaching for the door handle, gripping it, then turning it. Carefully, she opened the door and peered through- hubs was still asleep. All systems go…

Feeling safe, Sappho opened the door wider and tiptoed past their bed. As she approached the bedroom door, she waved with her shoeless hand and the door unlocked and opened by itself. She wondered if the soft clicking would wake Matt. Her eyes darted back to him- he was still blissfully knocked out.

She gave a sigh of relief as she turned back to walk out of their bedroom- but the floor loudly creaked under her suddenly right as she was exiting. Matt groaned. He reached for her side of the bed.

She dashed off to the kitchen.

“Everything will be okay! You’ll just make breakfast and… and… and then never show your face in public again,” Sappho quietly sobbed as she waved her free hand- green vines appeared around the dining table and kitchen counters. They started magically cleaning everything from last night’s dinner, grabbing this and that. Dirty dishes, utensils, pots and pans were carried away to the kitchen sink.

Not that I ever go out in public much anyway- being agoraphobic and all- but that’s not the point, her tears streamed down her burning cheeks as she walked to the front door of the house. She placed her shoes down, stood back up, and walked back to the kitchen island with her hand held out. A green vine suddenly appeared- it gave her a brilliant emerald green tea canister with a muted green leaf design.

“Kukicha? You might as well have given me decaf!” Sappho tossed it back to the vine. The vine quickly returned with a bright red tea canister with a black grizzly bear motif. She grabbed it, unscrewed the top, held it up to her nose and breathed in strong sweet malty goodness.

“Oohh Assam CTC, now that’s more like it! Arigatou gozaimasu,” she thanked the vine- it nodded in gratitude before retreating out of sight.

She stepped up to the counter next to the sink where her teaware was stored and pulled out a small clay teapot. She preferred making her tea herself, but allowed the house vines to brew it this time and allowed them to put on the kettle. She looked out the window, and sighed.

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She needed to get out of there, away from everyone, to clear her head. She needed distraction- she needed to be productive in a creative sort of way. Painting, drawing, writing… anything. A vine handed her a clay teacup full of hot black tea, with cream and honey just the way she liked it- she took it and quickly slurped it down. She was awake now.

The office. I could go there, think… Sappho thought of her office downtown. She could be completely alone there and be alone with her thoughts, giving her the chance she needed to come down from the highlight of last night. This sort of loneliness she needed was also very good for writing.

Maybe I could try writing a story or a poem? That’ll get my mind off-

Sappho’s mind drifted creatively as she opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. A large black greased cast iron skillet scooted over from the counter corner towards her on a mat- she grabbed the heavy thing, placed it on the already preheated stove with difficulty, then started cracking open eggs over it. She always made sure the boys had eggs every day.

Eggs are good for brain health. If I make sure they have eggs then they will do better in school. Good school grades will lead to college, then law school for Jeremy before being a U.S. senator, then the Presidency! Sappho thought as the eggs in the pan turned opaque.

The Gaian Witch Guild was adamant that it was Jeremy’s fate to become one of the greatest American Presidents in history- that he was The One who would ultimately destroy Fox News and tax the hell out of the rich (while giving witches immunity from being burned for any reason for all time). The Guild had a slightly different prophecy for her little Richard, Jeremy’s twin brother- it was his destiny to open the greatest hot dog shop in the state of Tennessee.

“I’m the mommy of a future President and of a hot dog shop owner who’ll give me a lifetime supply of free hot dogs! What more could a mother ask for?” she asked a nearby vine that nodded in agreement. She grabbed toast that had popped up from the toaster and switched it for fresh bread.

She tried to push eggs at her husband, but Matt felt his brain was fine- he did not see the need to force unwanted eggs down his throat, plain eggs being one of his least favorite foods.

"No, if Matt wants to ram anything down his throat it would be beer, or whiskey," she knew.

After losing all his job and his money, he’d gone on an extended drinking binge, rarely leaving the bedroom or the house. The house vines had their work cut out for them, picking up after him as he was so unmotivated and depressed that even making it to a trash can seemed too much, leaving a trail of tissues, wrappers, and beer bottles wherever he moped.

For Mr. Winters, their bedroom had become a safe space. He often went there to retreat from the cruelty of what was now his new normal- his excommunication from upperclassdom into the poorhouse. Sappho told him “Money’s not everything,” after finding him in the bedroom closet one day. That day, Matt was sitting on the closet floor with the door shut, fists clenched over his knees, trying his best to keep his eyes shut.

“Well, a good breakfast is not the same as having millions of dollars, stocks on Wall Street, or being CEO of a big company, buuut hopefully this will keep him in good health,” she winked at the vines, who nodded in agreement. With their help, Sappho finished preparing scrambled eggs, buttered toast, thick slabs of bacon, and crispy hash browns. They then set them out on plates before moving them to the round dining table.

She looked at the spread on the table and placed her hands on her hip.

Matt and the boys have everything they need- mission accomplished, she thought and nodded.

“Now to tend to my needs…” she said this quietly as she walked around the living room sofa. She reached for the basket on the coffee table in front of the living room couch, grabbed a notepad from it, brought a pen out from her pant pocket, sat down, and started writing.

This iris flower… like a rose… ahh! I should write it down before I forget… it could be a good poem… Her thoughts droned on as she tried to write what she thought, then tried to change what she wrote to transform it into poetic form. Suddenly a lop eared chocolate brown rabbit hopped over to her. It hopped up onto the couch next to her and nudged her thigh with its nose.

“Just a sec, George… mommy’s trying to write something magical here,” she told him without looking at him, though she did reach out with one hand to nuzzle his forehead. His eyes closed in pleasure when she scratched behind his floppy ears- god, he loved it when she did that.

I gotta write it down before I forget, I know there’s something here… her writing hand shook as she wrote. The hand that was nuzzling George lost focus, but he didn’t mind. He knew she tended to zone out into her creative work.

She didn’t like her first attempts.

Nah, I can make it better…

She erased what she wrote and rewrote. Then she erased that and rewrote again, and again. She rewrote the poem until it changed into something honest and beautiful.

Good, good, good…. that's it. Five, seven, five, boom, boom, boom.

“I did it, George!” Sappho suddenly shot up off the couch, startling poor George who rolled over on the couch. He righted himself, thumped his back foot, and gave his mistress an annoyed glare.

Sappho recounted several times to make sure she got the right number of syllables- she did.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... a haiku, she zoomed as she felt like she finally crossed some kind of imaginary finish line. She read what she wrote, reread it, and thought about what else she could do to make it better.

No, it’s good; no more. Leave it alone.

She then thought of her office.

“I wonder if they would publish this. What do you think, George?” she asked the glaring rabbit, who quickly forgave her to nod in agreement. She made a copy of her haiku, then shoved the notepad with the copy into her pant pocket and placed the original on the dinner table next to the buttered toast and bacon.

I wonder if he'll like it, Sappho thought.

She was hoping Matt would see it, read it, and tell her what he thought.

He doesn’t always understand me or my writing- but he’ll try, and that’s more than most guys, she thought. Sappho felt tremendous love for her husband and for her sons. She felt like a good mother, wife, and woman overall.

“A good mother who acted anything but motherly last night…” she finally admitted to the witch bunny, who responded with a half-lidded bored expression. He was used to this aspect of her, when her face became rosy as hell despite all denials.

“George, you don’t understand! I acted like a slut. Matt’s never going to look at me the same way, and if his mother found out,” she stuffed both fists into her burning cheeks as she thought of that old wasp with her judgmental eyeglasses staring down at her. George rolled his eyes.

“Ohwhaddya know, you’re a rabbit!” she huffed at him. She ran her hands over her head as she walked to the front door, leaving a perfectly combed business haircut where her sexhair had been. She grabbed her briefcase from the doorway entrance closet, threw on her black cashmere winter jacket, then placed one foot after another into her polished shoes. She was ready to runaway to her office far away in downtown Athens.

And I’ve made it out without anyone noticing me!

She couldn’t escape in time to avoid being seen by her second youngest son, though.

"Mommy!" Richard hailed as he popped out of nowhere, and Sappho’s eyes went wide as she jumped in panic. The boy smiled adoringly up at his sweltering mother and reached up with his tiny hands expecting a hug.

"Richard!" she chirped at him. She quickly hugged him, a little too tightly as he struggled to breath.

"Daddy’s sleeping and… There’s food on the table! I love you! See you later! Bye!” she kissed him on the cheek, pulled the front door wide open, and was halfway out the door when Richard finally understood what was happening and waved joyfully at her.

“Bye Moose Bucket!" she called him by her silly nickname for him, the door closing behind her as she left.

Richard stood there for a minute in stunned bewilderment, then just shrugged it off and ran down the hallway to see if his brother was awake.

Meanwhile, Sappho’s thoughts were in turmoil as she walked to the parked Cadillac in the driveway.

Poor kid! He doesn’t know how dirty his mommy is…

She was in sorrow over her perceived failure at motherhood.

Why do I feel like this? she wondered as she opened the door on the driver’s side and threw her briefcase into the passenger seat. Sappho kept going over her troubled thoughts as she started the car, shifted gear, pulled out the driveway, then headed down the road.

There was no traffic on the roads to worry about today.

It’s the holidays. Everyone’s sleeping in, she thought, grateful for the empty streets.

She could run away with ease.