For Better, For Worse- Part 2.

The final competition story is here.

Apr 30, 2024

“How dare you.” She threw her handbag and car keys down on the counter with such force that they barely landed.
“I’m sorry, I thought it would be easier.” David held his hands up, dodging the bag.
“For who? You?” She was scowling, eyes bright with fury.
“For both of us. Remove the emotion from it or something.” He twiddled his thumbs as he sat on the bar stool like a boy waiting for Dad to come home and hear the bad news.
“David!” She cried. “It’s our marriage. Remove emotion from a marriage?
“A divorce, actually. I want a divorce,” he said nervously.
“I got that.” Rachel hissed with a dramatic nod. “But you gave our therapist a note to give to me like I was, what? Some fling who got clingy and needed to be told to back off?”
“She was the calmest person we know.” Her husband remained seated, unsure, too calm.
“I can’t believe you. I can’t!” She poured herself a drink, took one gulp and slammed the glass down on the counter. It shattered into a million pieces. A new galaxy scattered across a black, granite surface. “What did I do?”
“Nothing.”
“Didn’t like your wish?”
“It was… good for a time.”
She screeched like a banshee now, pacing across the kitchen floor. “I was made for you and you don’t want me?”
“Not any more, Rachel.”
She flew across the island and held a small blade at his throat.“No refunds.” she whispered.

“What do you even mean?” he asked, bewildered.

Rachel put the knife down and stood against the pink counter. “It’s been more than thirty days, David.” She tidied away the plastic toast and cutlery and brushed up the tiny pieces of glitter.

He held his head in confusion.“What?”

“Why aren’t you listening to me?” Rachel was exasperated and started pacing the black and white kitchen floor again.

“Rachel, I don’t–”

“I’ve tried to tell you so many times.” She sat down on the stool. “No refunds after thirty days, David. Didn’t you read the receipt in the bag? You were in there for long enough!”

David patted down the pockets of his tuxedo and looked around the room. “Where is the receipt?”

“In the bag. I think it’s still in Tabitha’s wardrobe…But wait, are you sure you want to look?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think you understand what’s going on here, David. I said I was made for you, right?” She held his hands in hers. “Well… you’re also made for me.”

Before he could respond, there was a deafening slam of a door somewhere in the house. The floor beneath them rumbled with a magnificent wobble. The plastic glasses in the cabinet clinked slightly as though a freight train was passing through at any minute.

“Oh, it’s Tabitha! Quick, hold me.” Rachel leapt into his arms. They fell to the floor together with rigid, pearly white smiles on their faces. “We’ll talk about this later.” she whispered through her clenched teeth.

“Rachel, there you are!” Tabitha Keegan was six years old and she held her Rachel doll to her chest. Rachel was Tabitha’s favourite doll ‘in all the world’. In the December of her sixth year, Tabitha had been given a delightfully pink, fantastically plastic doll house with white, Georgian style windows and a blue townhouse front door. It was enormous and she loved it. Tabitha, too busy in her innocence, had not noticed that in recent years, birthday and Christmas presents had become more elaborate than ever. She did notice however, that she was the only child she had ever met with unopened gifts still sitting in her wardrobe.

Being slightly older, her brother Jake had been given a games console to play with. He played with it in his room as much as possible, and Tabitha had her dolls.

‘Rachel’ as Tabitha had named her, originally came with her own wardrobe and a selection of beautiful outfits. Her fiance, David, was sold separately. Although reluctant at first, Tabitha eventually moved David into the doll house as well.

Tabitha was combing Rachel’s hair quietly in her pyjamas when she heard her parents arguing downstairs. She heard Jake’s bedroom door close slowly from across the landing. Her bedtime story would have to wait until another time.

When Tabitha had fallen asleep, Rachel climbed down from the bed and went back into the house through the front door. David was laying on the floor still, blinking and staring at the ceiling.

“David?” she asked. He didn’t move. “Can we talk?” She sat down on the floor beside him as he stared up at the crayon graffiti and random heart stickers on the ceiling. “I’m sorry about before. We got off to a bad start.” She hugged her knees.

“How long have you known?”

“Since forever,” she admitted, “I was like you when I was new. I didn’t realise…” she let out a sigh and looked up at the ceiling, “but once I did, life got a little easier.”

“It kind of makes sense now that you mention it,” he said quietly with his hands resting on his chest. “Like, why is our therapist a fairy? I always thought that was weird.” They laughed. “I also never questioned the mermaids or why your friends are all called Shalayla.”

“Well, not quite. There is one Kalayla,” she tittered. She noticed that David seemed sad still and changed the subject. “Do you remember much from before you came here?” she asked, looking at her hands. The rug in their living room– of which was also a sticker– was beginning to peel away. She attempted to flatten it with the palm of her hand.

“Nope. I was just in a box. I mean, I read the brief but I didn’t realise we couldn’t divorce. We’ve been married so many times that I just thought that was ok.” He sat up suddenly. “Heck, you’ve married loads of other guys…” He thought of GI Joe who lived across the landing and shuddered. “I suppose I was a bit jealous…”

“Funny. I didn’t know what a divorce was until…” she couldn’t find the words.

“I came along?”

“Yeah. That was the first time I’d heard of it.”

“Me too.” He looked at her with a furrowed brow. “That’s weird, huh?”

Rachel scratched her head. “I thought it meant being sent back to the shop you came from but Tabitha seems to think it’s something else.” She looked out at the carpeted bedroom and Tabitha’s bed. Tabitha was sleeping peacefully. “I’m sorry for being so angry with you, anyway. I don’t know what came over me.”

“That’s ok. I don’t know why I asked for a divorce. I don’t remember doing it.” He helped her flatten the curled corner of the sticker rug. It stayed down for slightly longer with both of them flattening it.

“You didn’t leave a note with our therapist?” Rachel asked quietly.

“I don’t think so. I don’t remember. It’s like this all happens when I’m not really here.”

They both lay down and stared at the ceiling in silence.

***

The next morning, Tabitha was playing with her dolls when her mother quietly came into her room. “Hi sweetheart, what are you doing?” she asked in a quiet voice, kneeling down beside Tabitha.

“Just playing with my dolls.” Tabitha was holding David and Rachel in either hand.

“Oh, what are they doing today?”

“They’re getting divorced. They don’t love each other any more.”

“What?”

“They don’t love each other any more. I heard Auntie Faye talk about people having divorces all the time, so my dolls are having one.”

Tabitha’s mother held a hand to her mouth, her bottom lip trembling. Her eyes were red and puffy already but it didn’t stop them from filling up with fresh tears. Tabitha looked at her, concerned.

“Why are you crying, Mummy? Did you hurt yourself?”

“No sweetheart. I’m ok,” she lied and forced a smile. “I’ll be back in a minute.” She left the room in a hurry, her cardigan flowing and narrowly missing the door handle. Tabitha could hear her sobbing on her way down the stairs.

“I’m so sorry David. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“It’s getting worse, Rachel.”

“I know. I don’t know why I’m saying these things.” She paced the living room and crossed her arms. “Do you remember us ever fighting like this?” she asked, finally sitting down on the plastic sofa. David sat down beside her.

“No. It’s so weird. I thought this would be fun,” he said, holding her hand. “I don’t know what happened but living with each other is really hard now.”

“It’s like we don’t know each other any more,” Rachel said, placing her hand on top of David’s. “Is it your job? Is it me?”

“I don’t know. Things are pretty tough,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’m fulfilling any of my duties right now.”

She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Me neither,” she said.

They looked at each other for a moment, perplexed.

“David.” Rachel whispered. “What are we even talking about?”

“I don’t even know. Maybe we should go and see Wise Owl?”

“Ok, but where are your shoes?” She looked down at his bare feet.

“Oh,” he shuffled awkwardly. “Tabitha had me puddle jumping again.” They both looked across to a mound of Play-Doh at the back of the house. David’s white loafers were deeply embedded in the rainbow ball of dough. It had hardened in the hours since Tabitha had played with him.

They agreed to visit the Steiff Wittie owl who lived on the chest of drawers.

“Good morrow, dolls, how are thee? Some advice I think you require of me?”He extended his wings in greeting and winked.

“Good morning Wise Owl,” Rachel beamed. “Our child is sad and we want to help.”

Wise Owl pondered for a moment, as though summoning a vision through a third eye that the dolls couldn’t see. He held a feather to his forehead.

“Your child, I find, is sad, it’s true. But what happens to her parents is not down to you.”

“Is there anything that we can do?” Rachel asked, holding David’s hand. Wise Owl wrapped his wings around himself like a bat and spun his head around.

“Divorce is not the end, it seems. Sometimes divorce is the rebirth of dreams.”

They looked at each other in amazement. “How do you know this?” Rachel asked Wise Owl.

“Before I resided in Tabitha’s home,

I lived with a family somewhere near Frome.

Before the charity shop with me they dropped,

there was a time when their marriage had stopped.

Tears, at first, sleepless nights– the worst.

I comforted the children while they navigated rough seas,

for when it was over, they lived again with ease.

The parents you see, were later full of glee.

Happier they were, the more they cared…”

“Cared about what?” Rachel asked. There was a pause.

“No… it’s gone,” Wise Owl shook his wise head. “Sorry, I ran out of rhymes.” Wise Owl cleared his throat. “Basically, the parents were horrid to each other during the marriage but once they divorced, they were happier people and better parents. Divorce, as unpleasant as it is, does not always end with misery for all.”

“So we just need to be there for her?”

“Yes.”

“But we keep fighting, too.”

“That’s not you,” Wise Owl began, “your duty as toys is to comfort the children and bring joy in times of difficulty. Little Tabitha is struggling to process what is happening and acting it out with you two is how she copes. You have to remember that it’s not you.”

“Oh.” Rachel thought for a moment. “We’re like actors.”

“Exactly.”

“And we love each other in real life?”

“That’s really up to you.” Wise Owl said.

Tabitha came to bed with her parents in tow. Rachel and David watched from the bedroom window as they sat her down and read her a bedtime story. “This is unusual,” Rachel whispered to David.

“Good though, right?” he asked, looking at her.

She shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out later.”

Tabitha’s parents kissed her goodnight and left the room. She lay awake for a while, listening to them talk in hushed tones on the landing.

30 years later

“Mummy, look! Nana got these out of the garage for me,” a little girl called from the back of the house.

Tabitha came into the conservatory where her daughter, Megan, was playing and knelt down beside the giant, delightfully pink, fantastically plastic doll house with white, Georgian style windows and a blue townhouse front door.

“Oh my goodness,” Tabitha said as she looked inside the house.

“Nana said it was yours.”

“Yes, this was.” Tabitha traced a finger across the door and window frames. As she did, her eye caught something: it was a cardboard box that had been left by the back door. She reached in and picked up two dolls. One was a girl doll with long blonde hair and purple eyeshadow; The other was a boy doll with brown hair wearing a tuxedo. He was missing his shoes. “These were my dolls, too.”

“What are they called?”

“Rachel and David.”

“Hey, that’s just like Nana and Grandad!”

“Just like Nana and Grandad.” Tabitha said with a smile. She felt the tingle of impending tears. “I loved them so much.”

“Did David and Rachel love you too?”

“Oh they did, sweetheart. They did.”

-2011 words.

For Better, For Worse- Part 2.

The final competition story is here.

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