Clump.  Clump.  Clump.  He could hear her shoes, always those goddamned shoes. It was like the sound punched holes in the air throughout the house.  The shoes terrorized him from above and he didn’t know how long he could continue to face this.  Eddie Marks, already worn down from living thirty years of his pointless life, had nothing to do but slouch into the worn sofa like some surly teenager.  The ever present and aging television droned in the back ground, filling the air with talk show tragedy.  Eddie wallowed in Maury Povich telling another woman that “He is NOT the father of your baby.”
    
Eddie catcalled the television, “I knew the Bitch was a slut.”  Jesus, he thought, if you can’t narrow down the father of the baby in five tries, you don’t deserve to stick some poor son-of-a-bitch for child support.  Eddie restlessly alternated between drinking Pepsi, punching the remote control and unconsciously peering at the cable box clock.  Like an audible horror movie sound track, he heard it hunting him.  Clump.  Clump.  Clump.  His next thought was, fuck.

Even as he cursed in his head, he watched the digital hands of the clock on the cable box blink in time with the stomps of his wife, Candy, clumping as she thumped down the stairs.  His dread was rewarded as his own bitch descended in those fucking sensible shoes.

Fuck, he hated her, he hated himself for not standing up to her; he hated loathing this time of day. Hell, he even hated Maury and those stupid bitches that screwed every scumbag on the block; although he would be happy to have boned at least some of them — especially the young ones who seemed like they could be trained to shut up.

Eddie steeled himself for the pending marital inquisition.  His mind chewed over how it was Candy’s fault for judging him because she didn’t understand his situation.  Eddie didn’t need to focus on his failures. Eddie had a wife to do that for him.

He waited to see what button pushing assault Candy would use today and didn’t fear the moment; he could just act crazy and she would back down.  Even without insight, Eddie still had a great defense.  He would pretend to fly into an irrational rage and reveal self-doubt in a laundry list of stains impossible to wash from his soul.  He never really felt anything enough to be angry, but anger was an easy thing to pretend.  It worked so well with most women.  It made them take pity on his failures and they would take care of him.   When that didn’t work he just ended the relationship and blamed the women. Every defense has a cost and for Eddie, the cost was that every moment with Candy exhausted him and left him feeling like a caged rat desperately seeking any way out of the domestic trap that was his marriage.  He constantly worried he would never find his escape hatch.
 
When he was a teen, Eddie had learned to read people almost by accident.  People were a lot like the weather.  He had spent a few summers being sent to relatives in the big middle of America.  There he had learned that if you stood in an open field you could, just like the animals, feel the weather change before it got within miles of you.  For days on end he would stand on a rolling hilltop and find himself rotating like a biological weather station.  Pressure systems, the change in the smell of the air, slight winds, and the nervousness of horses were all keys.  He had learned to feel change in his bones.  It was an ability that served him well for in his adult life.  No longer needing the sense for weather, Eddie had adapted his ability, from weather to sensing the feelings of those around him.  It was good to know when to hide, when to run, and when to bluff.  But now, Eddie felt the sea change and unconsciously knew that he was nearing the end of yet another relationship.

Eddie’s bones felt the room change even before his wife entered the room.  He was frustrated; this breakup would be more difficult because he was married to her and he didn’t really have a chance to find a fall back woman to hook on to.  He twitched as he lazily sought the compromise needed to hold a broken relationship together until he had an out.

He knew he hated his impotence with his wife even more than he loathed the coming moments.  Some day, not today, and not with Candy, he knew, he would find a way to stand up to a woman and put her in her place; but, for now, he put his feet on the sofa and dug in for the assault.  He was just too tired to run or fight.  This time, he could sit in the dying field of his failing marriage and weather it until the storm passed on.

Candy Marks had never been accused of being light on her feet; but, still she tried to stride gracefully down the stairs.  She knew Eddie hated it when she walked heavy.  Lately she had been working on that for him.  She was in a hurry but still worked to improve herself.  This month she had started Pilates and was working on her personal carriage.  She consciously sucked in her tummy and hoped soon she would be able to do it without thought.  She moderated her stride, trying to be more feminine.  It wasn’t working yet but she always had hope.  A name like Candy forced one to be either sweet or sluttish, and she focused on sweet because everyone liked a sweet candy better than a slut.
 
 An oval mirror at the bottom of the stairs reminded Candy that her make up really needed updating.  She chose to see a perfectly bland size 14 with size 4 aspirations.  Her hair didn’t cascade down her neck, like her workmates, it flared in a Farrah Fawcett sort of way.  Eddie always said he loved that look and she kept it for him.  Her eyes were a deep brown, bovine and trying to hold onto hope.   Checking in the mirror she re-sucked in her tummy.  Her reflection warned Candy that her wardrobe needed updating as much as her makeup.  Some days, she thought, there was just too much to accomplish in this life.

With a final, lighter than usual thud, Candy turned the corner and saw her husband in his usual prone position and she felt her hope for the future dwindle.  Nothing in the women’s magazines told a pending Cosmo girl how to deal with a man like Eddie.

She lost steam seeing him and hoped against hope that when she came home tonight he wouldn’t have watched skin flicks on cable.  That always made him handsy and desperate for a quick roll in the sheets.  She had long ago lost sexual interest in him.  Apparently, motivation and success were more an aphrodisiac than long-term commitment for her.  Perhaps she could stay extra late without Eddie thinking she was screwing around on him.  A girl could only hope, even though she knew a sympathy boink was in the near future.  She shuddered and forced herself toward him.

Eddie averted his eyes from his dowdy wife.  He hated the thought that tonight or tomorrow or some day far too soon, he would have to screw her again.  Sex was usually Eddie’s best tool for managing women; but, now it was just a method for keeping her off his back.  Sure, it was easier when he picked plain looking women, but he also boned his fair share of hot women, but he always limited his long term relationships to women he knew couldn’t get rich or good men.  It made them so much more understanding of his laziness.  Eddie watched Candy round the corner, holding in her gelatinous tummy.  Dejectedly, he planned for sex tonight.  He would do as she wanted, as much as he hated it.   Maybe a few hours of “Skinamax” and porn would keep him stiff enough for the profucktory mating.

Lays potato chips and two one liter bottles of Diet Coke perched on the table.  Candy grabbed a sweating bottle and spun the top off with a well practiced motion.  Eddie scowled and spoke his first words of the afternoon, “Slow down, you’ll choke.”

Eyeing Eddie sideways, Candy snatched the bag of chips, snagged a handful and dropped them into his lap haphazardly.  Eddie hunched down into the sofa like a cat resistant to being moved or even petted.  Candy cast a glance at the television and grimaced at yet another episode of Jerry or Maury or some other one name, pseudo reality hack.  She stuffed the handful in her mouth and actively crunched it at Eddie.

Eddie glowered back and said, “Slow down or you’ll choke and I don’t want to have to get up to save you again.”