Chapter One

Mary Hanley, 34 years of age, waltzed into the kitchen of their modest house only to spot the garbage can, its contents spilling out of the sides. She let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head.

"David, if I've asked you once, I've asked you a thousand times: Will you take out that damned garbage?"

"What'd ya say? I was in the bathroom. I think the pipes froze again. No water comin' out," a masculine voice called, entering into the kitchen.

A scruffy looking, 32 year old man appeared with a wrench in hand. His hands were grimy from what appeared to be oil and his scraggly chestnut hair fell into his eyes.

"Oh good lord, please tell me you haven't been trying to fix nothin' up. You know you can't fix for shit."

David scoffed, and with his free hand, pushed his hair out of his face before speaking.

"I'll have you know that, as the man of this household, I am obliged to fix what is my own." He finished with a toofy grin.

"Don't be such a sexist prick, would ya? And take that damn garbage out," Mary retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Mmm, but can't papa get some lovin'?" David asked, slinking over to his wife, and wrapping his arm around Mary's stomach. He pressed her torso against his lean form. He suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at the woman, innuendo etched in his actions.

"Ugh, you fucking perv." Mary pushed him away with her finger, giving him a sharp jab in the chest. "And don't forget to take out that garbage!"

David looked over at the appalling sight of the trash and then back at his wife. At this time, he wasn't certain which was more intimidating.

"Babe, can't you get your nephew to do it? You know, he's just freeloadin' on our couch. Least he could do is take out the garbage."

Mary glared at him, and stomped over to him again. The tall woman loomed over him, and spoke in a quiet, angered tone, "Now you promised, David. You promised you wouldn't get on his case. You know he's got some trouble going on back at my sister's. If you ever want some 'loving' you better put a cork in it."

He took a couple steps back, and then spoke, "Well, damn, Babe. Can't he even help around the house? That's all I'm asking."

She sighed. "You're right. I'll talk to him."

She turned to walk away, but stopped and faced David. "That doesn't mean you've gotten outta your duties. After all, as man of this house, you oughta take the garbage out. Right?"

Mary snickered and trotted off to the living room. David glared at the still garbage. He cursed the inanimate contents before slipping off into another room with a complacent smile upon his face. Current satisfaction outwayed the reprocussions, he was certain.

An hour later, David was huddled in the garage, inhaling the smoke from a small object held within his forefinger and his thumb. As he breathed, giant forms of white air puffed out around him. His breath and the smoke from the pot swirled together in animation, dancing with one another. He was so entranced by the two, he neglected to notice a very, very pissed off woman at the door. And once he had, it was too late.

"David Hanley. You sunvabitch."

He was fucked. Fucked as fucked could get, he surmised. He threw out the evidence by means of the open window, and faced his wife.

"Yes, darlin'?"

"I oughta kick that innocent look off of your face right now. What the hell you think you're doing out here smoking a blunt?" She chastised," You said, you said--correct me if I'm wrong--that you'd quit. You said you were quittin' for the baby."

"Well, one or two ain't gonna hurt nothing, is it?"

Mary scoffed. "You're the one who said you would quit. I never said anything about you needin' to quit. Just don't do it around Melissa is all I said."

"I know, I know, Babe. I just don't want her growing up with a stoner dad like I did. I wanna be somethin' good for the lil' gal."

Mary's eyes softened, as the always did when David spoke of his childhood. Mary knew that David had a tough childhood, and that he never relished speaking of it, and so she never pressured him into doing it. The pair had been married for what had seemed to be ages, but Mary knew little of what he was like growing up. She wasn't satisfied with what she found out, but on the otherhand she knew David well enough to know that prying wouldn't be a very good idea. From the time Mary was little, she always fell for the softie; when David came around she knew it would be no different.

She walked over to where he was, sitting on a stool next to the window. She wedged herself in front of the man, and wrapped her arms around him. He pressed his head against her small chest and breathed in her scent.

David and Mary weren't the sort of couple to whisper sweet nothings into each others' ears, so they simply stayed next to each other.The sound of their uneven breathing was calming in a way, and comforting in others. Days such as these reminded them both of why they stuck things out and put up with each other's quirks and qualities. The both of them couldn't imagine what it was like, not having someone to come back to bed with at night, or sharing moments like this. Over the years, they'd grown so attached and fitted to each other, that they couldn't imagine what it was like without the other. Shortly thereafter, they would come to believe that the fates decided to test their bond. Simply put, after that night, things slowly and deceptively began to change.

"I love you, darlin'," David whispered later on, silently cursing himself. He'd have hell to pay when they entered the house again, he still hadn't taken out the garbage. Shit!