Creative writing day: write a (very short) fictional story that starts with this sentence: "To say I was dreading the dinner party would be the understatement of the century." The story does not necessarily need to have a conclusion- you can leave your readers wishing for more!
To say I was dreading the dinner party would be the understatement of the century. My husband was dressed and ready, the sitter was with the kids at the kitchen table, dragging chicken nuggets through ketchup like she was one of them, and I stood before the long mirror in our bedroom staring at myself, wondering how I got here.
We were going to a dinner party where not only was my ex-best friend going to be in attendance, but the woman who had been in an affair with my husband two years prior. My husband's company was taking a big leap, joining forces with another firm, and to celebrate, the boss was having all his key players over for dinner.
This included Natalie, my former best friend, her husband Heath, my husband's coworker Paul and his petite wife Meg, and my husband's ex-lover, Whitney and her new boy toy, Rob. There was no way to get out of the dinner. If Kyle wanted to continue moving up in the company, there was no way we could skip out.
I had toyed with the idea of pretending one of the kids was sick, but the thought of Kyle alone at a dinner party with Whitney was enough to make me change my mind. There was no way I could compete with her. She had spent every morning the last five years at the gym. Meanwhile I had bore him three children. She had long, luscious brown locks. I had mousy, thin hair in a pixie cut. She had boobs that nearly touched her chin. I had bags that used to be breasts before our three little blessings sucked the life out of them.
Kyle and I had been in therapy, decided to move on with our marriage and get over what had happened during our sleep deprived year post-second child. We had since had another child, bought a house and made a once-a-week date night commitment. We were good. We were solid.
So why then was this dinner, this few hours, throwing me for such a loop? Maybe it was because he worked with Whitney, a fact that I hated being reminded of. Maybe it was because I hadn't seen Whitney in over a year. Maybe it was the mix of seeing both her and my ex-best friend. All I knew was that as I stood critiquing every centimeter of my 34 year old body, the whole thing was too much for my poor frayed nerves.
Kyle walked in, handsome, fresh shaven, his smile bright as he took me in, "You ready?" he asked slowly. I looked in his eyes. I could see there, behind their soothing brown, an electricity that told me he was as nervous as I was. I took his hand in mine, fingering his wedding ring, and nodded my head curtly, "Ready as I'll ever be."
To be continued...
Update: Part Two