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to journals under a pen name. I did it out of spite. To just claim something,
anything for myself. And you know what?”
“He found out?”
“After two years of submissions, one was published. I. Just. Exploded.
All that anger… it came through my pores. Ted came home after dark and I
threw the letter and the seventeen-dollar check across the counter and
said”—she waved her arm with a flourish—“‘You don’t own me, Theodore
Crowne!’”
Even though I knew the ending, the drama held me. “What did he say?”
“Well, he picked up the letter.” She pantomimed her husband by looking
at her palm. “Then the check.” She switched to her other hand. “And he
said, ‘How long have you been doing this behind my back, Doreen?’”
I gasped. “He did not.”
“He did. And I told him that I had to because he’d turned his back on
me.”
“Good answer.”
“And he put the check down, then read the letter again. Carefully. And
he said, ‘According to this, you’re a breath of fresh air. Warm. Authentic.
An original voice speaking universal truth.’ And I said, ‘I read it, Ted.’ And
he puts the letter down, and says, ‘I thought the woman I married was gone,
but she’s not. A bunch of strangers see her. And I—’” Her voice cracked.
“‘I miss her.’”
“Oh my God,” I said, putting my hand to my chest. “That’s… amazing.”
My feelings deserved a better word, but I had nothing less generic to
offer.
“Cry for the work we had to do afterward. Marriage isn’t easy.”
I was sure she was right, but Logan and I wouldn’t get to the “not easy”
stage. “Did you keep writing poetry?”
“To this day.” She put her hand on my arm and led me to the last
mannequin on the right. “This one is my favorite. Do you recognize it?”
Though the lines were familiar, I’d never seen anything like that gown
before. It had a simple strapless bodice, and a floor-length skirt that flared
gently below the waist and outward to the floor. What made it exceptional
were the tightly-packed butterfly wings sewn into the entire thing. They
were so carefully hand-painted, they looked as though they’d take off.
“Is it my father’s?”
“It is.” She must have seen my hands twitch. “You can touch it.”