***
She waits for the cold air to circulate throughout the rooms before returning to close the side door a habit she developed from her husband. The cold air circulates in the kitchen and throughout the house, but her thoughts are still on Jerry. She has to admit that Jerry is changing,
“No, evolving would be the better word,” she said out loud.
***
“He is still an idiot,” Mark Thomas stops his pacing and faces Maria.
***
Filigree is not ready for change, not yet,
“But from the look on his face, no, I am overstretching, this is not the time,”
Emin’s song ‘Walkthrough’ on the neighbor’s radio jams her thoughts.
She exhales slowly, looks at her watch, and finally …show more content…
Nine hours earlier her boss Mr. Livid had called her into his office to compliment her. Filigree gave him a large smile and nodded politely. It is no secret that Mr. Livid believes a woman’s place is in the home. He is of the opinion that women should not be heads of governments, or run international companies or even part of the earth 's workforce. If he has his way every woman would be barefoot in the kitchen and pregnant or tending to younglings while catering to their husbands every …show more content…
Livid gave Filigree the property on 19 First Avenue Mont Lambaste in February 2015 when the last of his staid star real estate agents had failed to close on the million-dollar property and secure the commission. Now, the Gibb’s house had been previously under contract. Four times to be exact, but the transactions failed and the property had returned to the market. Each closing was the same the prospective buyers would opt out at the signing with nominal justification. Mr. Livid top four brokers were eloquent, incisive and experienced with several landmark sales throughout the years, and had gradually gained Filigree father’s respect.
By May 15, 2015, the house on 19 First Avenue Mont Lambaste was finally under contract. However, her boss Mr. Livid had set a time frame in the written contract indicating the date the property will sell. The closing on the Gibb’s house was prearranged for May 27th, 2015.
Filigree looks at the time on her laptop and steps out of her high heels. The tears prick her eyes and slowly run down her face as the memories flood her mind. She had digested herself over the years from the inside out in an attempt to heal, but the kitchen held more memories of happier times than any other area in the house.
She met her husband in her best friend’s kitchen. He proposed on one knee in front of friends and family in his parents’ kitchen. Their own kitchen was the platform of open and heated conversations. It was where she confronted him and