Chapter 2 - a big change in phil

I practiced what I was going to say to Phil as I heard him come down the steps.

"Oh, you're still here," he said dully when he saw me.

"I thought we could have breakfast together," I said pleasantly, trying very hard to jeep any sense of tension or excitement from my voice.

"Does this mean you've finally been fired again for incompetence?" he asked, looking at the microwave clock which read 9:04 a.m.

"No, not at all, but they owe me a little comp time," I said evenly. "I was kind of tired and didn't want to rush in this morning. We haven't anything pressing on my schedule today. Tea?"

"Whatever," Phil said, picking up a piece of toast, scraping the unmelted butter off. "Still trying to make me fat, I see," he muttered derisively.

I poured tea into the cup I had prepared for him. "And cream in my coffee to make me fat as well."

He pushed the cup away, and I felt my heart sink, that my plans would not work.

"Hon, just this once, enjoy a little cream in your tea.," I said. "You've been exercising so much lately. You deserve a little pleasure this morning."

He reluctantly took the cup from my hand in a way that made clear that he thought me incapable of setting it down without making a mess. I pretended to ignore him as he drank it. He drank the whole thing down, and pushed the empty cup toward me. He seemed on the verge of saying something, but sat silent and stared fixedly ahead.

I set the timer on the microwave for 60 seconds. I opened my iPad, pushed the timer button and began reading from the screen, slowly and distinctly.

"You love me. You have always loved me. Every day, you love me more and more. Every day, you need me more and more. You have no complaints about me, because I am perfect in every way."

Seeing 44 seconds left, I continued at an even pace.

"Every day, you are pleased and delighted by me more and more. You trust me absolutely. You love to please me. You need to please me. You love for me to tell you what to do. There is nothing you would not do to please me. Every day, you are happier with me. Everything that pleases me is right."

I saw the number :23 on the microwave and picked up my speed, still speaking deliberately and clearly.

"You are for ***ing ,and you always want sex. Your body will change to please me more. You will grow as fat as I wish you. You will start smoking again. A lot. You will start drinking again. A lot."

There were :08 seconds left. I rushed the words.

"Whatever I want is what you want. Everything I do pleases you perfectly. You can deny me nothing, you have no will power. "

I finished just before the microwave timer dinged. Phil's eyelids closed. I put away my iPad, refilled Phil's teacup and sat back down. After a few minutes, a shudder passed through his body, he opened his eyes and asked me when I was going to leave.


"I'll just finish my tea."
"Well," he said, "don't rush off on my account."

I opened up my iPad and surfed the Web for specific pictures. I found an old 1960s advertisement showing a slender Mad Men-type hunk smoking a cigarette.

"Doesn't he look sexy, holding that cigarette, Phil?"

"You've got to be kidding," Phil replied.

"Of course, he's much too thin," I remarked, putting down the iPad and finishing my tea. I collected my briefcase and things, and headed for the door.

Phil got up to see me off, something he had never done before, not even when we were first married. He hugged me tightly, then looked a little confused.

"When will you be home?" he asked.

"Oh, about the usual time," I replied.

"Couldn't you come home just a little sooner?" he begged, as though he were afraid to be left alone, very out of character for Phil.

"If I can get off early, I will come straight home," I answered. As I leaned forward to kiss his cheek, he leaned away from me at first. Then, quite suddenly, his lips met mine and opened for a very passionate kiss. He looked at me with a yearning but confused expression on his face.

"Be good," I said and strode out of the door.

Keeping my mind on work was nearly impossible. At work, we were in a bit of a slack period that autumn. Nothing pressing or urgent to accomplish. About an hour early, I left for home, feeling very nervous. I wondered what I would find at home as I passed the corner shop, still deserted, dusty and desolate.

I walked in the door, yelling, "Honey, I'm home," in a sing-songy voice, reminding me of one of those 50s husbands greeting his little woman at the end of the day. That notion made me smile. I was the breadwinner after all, and my hubby existed only to serve me well. At least, that was my hope, that the witch-shopkeeper's potion had miraculously worked.

The place was neat and tidy. Generally, Phil had been leaving all the housework to me, then criticizing everything I did, so a clean house was a big change. A delicious smell wafted from the kitchen, but I did not at first see my husband until I looked through the window on the kitchen door.

He was sitting on the back porch diving into a big half-empty box of pastries. Hearing me, Phil put down a half-eaten cream puff and rushed to me, folding me in a loving embrace. He was wearing a tshirt and loose robe. I could feel he was wearing nothing underneath.

"Oh!" he exclaimed with excitement. I could feel his excitement beneath that robe, poking me as we hugged. This was certainly a big change in his attitude, and I felt a confident smirk upon my face. "I am so glad you were able to come home early."

"Well, I expect you to be my happy hubby," I say, tussling his hair, something which would have driven him into a rage before. He simply acted like a puppy being petted by a loving master - or rather, mistress.

He led me to the living room. "Please sit down," he said, pushing me gently into his recliner - the one he'd never let me sit in before. He sat in my lap, and I could feel his sharp bones poking into me, his hip bones, his ribs even. I moaned from the discomfort.

"You're so skinny and bony, Phil" I said in the kind of critical tone he once used on me. He looked at me like a whipped puppy, and I felt badly, so I added, "I am glad you are eating lots of pastries, so maybe you can grow a fatter and softer and not hurt me so much."

"I will do as you say, Carrie," he said, standing now and leaning over and kissing me very passionately. "I will eat more and more to grow chubby and please you."

He then ran off to the kitchen, returning with a martini for me. He got down on his knees in front of me, removing my shoes and massaging my feet while I sipped my martini. I felt like I was in seventh heaven as the afternoon shifted slowly to evening, and the shadows moved about the room as the sky darkened outside.

"Something smells heavenly. What are you cooking?" I asked as he finished massaging my feet, then got my slippers and led me to the kitchen table. He sat down in the chair facing me across the table.

"It's your favorite, roast beef with asparagus and baby carrots," he said, looking deeply into my eyes. He sat back, lit a cigarette and said, "I missed you so much!" blowing a big smoke ring over my head. I did not comment on the cigarette, but a little shock must have crosssed my face. He took my hand in his and remarked, "Oh, I could never give up smoking. I have absolutely no will power at all."

"I didn't marry you because of your will power," I said and reached forward to caress his cheek. "You look very handsome this evening."

"Speaking of will power," he said, getting up suddenly and crossing the room, "I haven't been able to keep out of the Halloween candy. I hope I have enough left for our little ghosts and goblins tonight."

Just then, the doorbell rang, and we heard kids yelling outside the door, "Trick or treat!"

(This story is an homage to anonymous classic "Peggy's New Life."

(more to come)