I found a box beneath two worn suitcases while cleaning the closet a few days before my birthday.
I didn’t spy. I looked for our barely-used picnic blanket for Luke’s school outing later that week.
“Please, Mom,” he pleaded. I promised to deliver the blanket and sodas to my buddies. Also, bake those chocolate caramel cupcakes.”
As a mom, I dug through storage to remove obstacles.
The blanket and something else were found. A sleek, square black box was underneath.
Curiousity beckoned. Lifting the lid made me gasp.
The satin skirt was deep plum and velvety, with delicate hand-stitched embroidery along the hem.
Months ago, I showed my husband Christopher while wandering through a boutique.
Though I termed it “too extravagant,” I thought he would surprise me.
“You deserve something luxurious now and then,” he joked.
When I saw it in that box, wrapped in tissue like a jewel, I realized it had to be my birthday present.
Joy briefly filled me. Despite our ups and downs, this gesture made me think we were okay.
Everything was returned to its place after carefully closing the box. Chris shouldn’t know I found it.
Luke got an old throw blanket for his picnic and I counted down my birthday.
I bought a skirt-matching blouse. I kept it in my drawer until the reveal.
However, I received a stack of well-chosen novels. But not the skirt. Nobody mentioned it.
I thought he was keeping it for a dinner party or surprise. But it never happened.
A few days later, I checked the closet again, but the box was gone.
Vanished.
Still, I said nothing. I didn’t want to be a wife who made snap judgments.
I chose a softer faith. Even when we know better, hope keeps us going.
Three months. The skirt is absent. No explanation.
Luke entered the kitchen one afternoon while I made lemon snacks for a wedding.
Eyes darting between the counter and my face, his stance was uneasy.
“Mom?” He hesitated. “I must inform you. About the skirt.”
I paused.
“I know Dad bought it,” he said. Our mall trip was for my soccer sneakers. He instructed me to wait outside and ran in to grab it.”
My stomach tightened.
I missed a few periods of class. Coming home to fetch my board, I heard voices upstairs. I thought it was you and Dad… You’re never home then. I frightened and hid beneath your bed.”
Cracked voice.
“She laughed, Mom. Not you. Saw her legs. She wore skirt.”
No breath. Just nodded and grabbed him. He melted into my arms like a child.
My darling son, carrying a secret no child should.
A few days later, we celebrated Christopher’s birthday. I catered, decorated, and acted.
Although I regretted my blue dress, red lipstick, and heels within one hour, I smiled and greeted every person like nothing was wrong.
Luke approached me with wide eyes. “Mom,” he whimpered, pulling my sleeve. “That’s her. The skirt. She’s wearing.”
I turned to see Christopher’s helper Penelope. Her husband Nathaniel was with her. She appeared radiant and confident. and she wore skirt.
I crossed the room with a tray and smiled.
“Penelope! You look great in that skirt. Where did you find it?
She seemed surprised. “Thank you. It was gift.”
“How lovely,” I responded gently. Funnily enough, I had one like it. Once in my residence. Then it vanished.”
Her smile shook. Christopher watched us from across the room.
“Nathaniel!” I phoned. Come join us. We liked Penelope’s skirt. You too, Chris!”
All four of us stood. Penelope gripped her drink. Nathan looked perplexed. Chris looked devastated.
“I loved that skirt,” I whispered. I thought it was for me. But now I understand it was for someone else.”
Cleared his throat. I gave Pen it. An added benefit. For her great work.”
“How thoughtful,” I said. “Was that for her work performance or her lunchtime visits to our bedroom?”
Silence.
“Don’t involve Luke,” Chris mumbled.
“Too late,” I said. “He was.”
Guests noticed. Room quieted. Nathaniel left Penelope.
Later that night, I informed Chris, “I’d like a divorce.” “Finished.”
There was no dispute. The documents were signed soon after. He moved into a modest flat. Penelope reportedly moved back in with her parents.
Luke inquired whether I was okay. I said yes—until he believed.
I lived again. Walking in the morning. Baking for fun. Meeting old buddies.
And I bought skirt. Every color sold.
Who will love me like I deserve now? Me.
