Big Bad Musical props, Newport Theatre Arts Center
One day when the conversation turned to me and why he hadn't seen a "Mr." around the house, J expressed some amazement about the lack of a leading man in my life and his impression that I appeared to be quite content negotiating life by myself with four kids in tow. In response to his inquisitive remarks, partly because we were hampered by our language barrier – me with my fifth-grade Spanish and him with his severely limited English vocabulary – and partly because I didn't care to reveal more than the minimum required to be polite, I managed a vague summary of my current situation: "Es porque la vida es complicada," which seemed to succeed in placating J's curiosity enough that he didn't try to probe further (at the risk of sounding politically incorrect, I should probably say at this point that J is Hispanic and has a very low privacy threshold for himself, which tends to make him view others in the same way).
My brother D, in a discussion we had recently regarding relationships in general, stated his belief that very few of them are true partnerships... and that he had ceased to be surprised at how often he would encounter couples who held diametrically-opposing views about the state of their union. As often was the case, the reality lay somewhere near the middle, but it wasn't uncommon to hear one person unleash a litany of complaints about their partner and lament the lack of love/understanding/excitement in their life, whereas the other person, either through sheer cluelessness or denial, seemed to have no idea their relationship was on shifting sand.
The general truth of this observation hit home recently as I had occasion to meet J's wife, Rosie, when she brought her daughters to the mall on a play date with mine. As we made small talk about our families, I was struck by my impression that R is still very much smitten with her husband, as though she were a young bride in love. One can hardly be more content than the way Rosie looked when she shared with me how lucky she was to have found J, a smart and handsome husband, a good father, too... and so romantic... he would bring flowers home almost daily, and would be upset if her room went without fresh blooms!
Since I knew they've been married for more than a decade (J's oldest daughter is 12, the same age as my youngest, Lauren), I was pretty amazed by Rosie's revelations, especially in light of the fact that J was barely scraping by to support his family of four doing manual labor, that a guy in such a situation would still feel determined to fill his wife's life with beauty. Subsequently, while we were out shopping for travertine for my backyard one day, I told J how sweet it was to hear his wife speak of him with such glowing admiration, that it seemed to me she's unabashedly crazy about her hubby. In a sad and disappointed voice, J shared with me that he and Rosie were already "separado" a total of three times in Mexico, and that their marriage is full of strife. :( I was aghast, "Pero no es posible! Rosie said you take good care of the family and give her flowers everyday!" J seemed to be struggling for words to describe his predicament. Finally, he came up with this explanation, which I thought hilarious, but sort of sad at the same time, "I do to her, pero she no do to me", roughly translated: I'm good to her, but she doesn't reciprocate." "She BIG BAD!"... tr: "She's a terrible wife!"
I wonder how many men secretly see their wife as BIG BAD WOLFETTE?!
Natasha & Lauren cavorting as Wolfettes with Matt Yee,
the Big Bad Wolf
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