Amateur Marriage Counsellor (short fiction.)

                                                     Amateur Marriage Counsellor

The phone rang, and a creepy sixth sense warned me this would be a difficult call. I should have run away right then, but who'd have thought I'd regret answering the phone?

It was my friend Ellie.  She was distraught and crying.

"It can't be that bad, Ellie." She was swearing divorce.

 I couldn’t believe she was serious! They rarely have a row!

I've got to do something."Come over straight away. I'll put the coffee pot on." I'll try to calm her down.

"We never go anywhere anymore. And he just talks over me–shouting! And he won't listen!" Ellie's fist hit the table, "Oh Jeannie, I can't bear it. I want a divorce!"

Dear sweet Ellie, nearly 45, cried and cried, dabbing her swollen red eyes that looked puffy in her milky complexion, as she brushed impatiently at the short black hair, now tangled and unkempt.

 We got together a couple of times a week in one another's kitchens for morning coffee. At 9.30 am on a Monday it was a little earlier than usual, and the men had gone to work.

Ellie's husband is a wood craftsman, making furniture and household crafts. He enhances his work with unique carving. My husband, Laurence, is a carpenter. The men have been good friends ever since Ellie and I brought them together after our respective marriages.

She and I have been close friends since we were young and started work as trainee nurses together. We just seemed to hit it off. People joked about us being 'the long and the short of it', because I was tall and thin, and she was short and plump.

I was shocked when Ellie mentioned divorce, and I started thinking fast. I needed time.
A phone call from my daughter's school interrupted us. 12-year-old Liddy was sick and I'd have to collect her in the car.

"Tomorrow," I ordered Ellie. "Your place at 10 am sharp for another coffee."I have to sort this out.

On Tuesday morning, I left Liddy in bed with cold medication and hurried to Ellie's.

Before sitting down for coffee, I fingered Ellie's beautiful hand-built table. "I've always envied you," I reminded her. "Can we move to the pergola?" I asked.

Ellie seemed thoughtful.

The Middle Eastern style pergola was beautiful. I admired the carving before taking my seat."So gifted," I murmured, pretending to think out loud, "I always thought John had such rich talents; and I love his smile...his whole personality."

Ellie smiled. "That's what I fell in love with," she whispered, tears in her eyes.

After 10 min, I rose, and, cup in hand, wandered around her flowerbeds. We talked gardening.

"I need to take Liddy to the doctor tomorrow," I explained before returning home. "Come back Monday to my plain-Jane kitchen, " I invited as I closed her front gate, another piece of John's great handwork. "Goodbye till then." I tried to sound cheerful.

When Wednesday came, Elie had experienced an epiphany.

She dabbed her eyes, and blew her nose on a soggy tissue. "I've been a fool Jeannie. I want to make it up to John. I've booked into a motel for the weekend; you know--second honeymoon...sort of."  A sheepish smile twitched at the side of her mouth as she hung her head, her face reddening.

"He'll appreciate that." I tried to be reassuring, and patted her on the arm.

 Thank God! What a relief!

She wasn't finished. "You made me realise... I'm a boring wife. It's time I did something about it."

On Friday night Laurence walked in from work with a mischievous smile. "Whatever is wrong with you?" I burst out.

"John came to see me at work today. Guess what?"

"They're reaffirming their vows?"

He laughed. "You could say that! They're joining a nudist colony!" I gaped.

"John's worried though," Laurence continued, "I feel rather sorry for the guy, because he's so modest."

"Poor John, I didn't think Ellie would go that far."

"No, I told him we'd join with them."