Exit

Jeanie pulled to a stop behind a long line of cars on the cross-town freeway. The evening rush hour was always the same, but oddly she didn't mind. Trapped in that gridlock was the only time of the day when she was really alone - really free, and she had no wish to hurry home to Fred. Her husband was no less her boss than her employer. It was his house to keep, his dinner to cook, his comfort that mattered, and his wishes to be fulfilled. He even dictated how she dressed.

It had been that way almost from the beginning so many years ago. Jeanie had tried to adjust as her new husband's will gradually became the law she lived by, but something began dying inside her. Fred had loved her once, she thought, as much as she had loved him, but how can a man love a woman he treats no better than a domestic servant? Whatever affection there had been between them had died for the want of encouragement.

Jeanie saw her exit up ahead, but at the pace traffic was moving, there was still time to bask in the solitude and autonomy of her daily commute. She reached to open the glove compartment and took out her favorite CD -- the one Fred had ridiculed and forbade in the house. Jeanie slipped it into the player on the dash and began to hum along softly.

What would happen, she thought, if she simply did not go home one day? Oh, he would be mad at first because his dinner was not on the table when he expected it, and madder still when nightfall came and she was not there. But what else would he do? Would he look for her? Would he find her as easy to replace as a housekeeper? Would he even care?

It suddenly dawned on Jeanie that she wouldn't care if she never went home again. The house was Fred's, and even the clothes in her closet and the china in her kitchen were Fred's taste, not hers.

She chided herself for the foolish fantasy as the car inched closer to her exit. Responsible people don't just disappear. The police would, no doubt, be called. Besides, it's not like Fred beat her or anything. Lots of men are controlling - like their fathers before them.

She would go home like she always did, fix whatever Fred wanted for supper, and do a load of wash after she cleaned up the dishes. If she had time, she would clean the bathrooms before she went to bed. She would go to bed beside her husband, and they would read until Fred got sleepy and then he would turn out the light, even if she was in the middle of a chapter.

Jeanie was two car lengths from the exit. For one long moment, she delayed turning, but then she thought about the library book on her nightstand that was almost due.

"Perhaps tomorrow," she said to herself, as she turned her car toward the exit and headed to Fred's house.

THE END