The glasswells
I married Eric knowing the responsibility that came with.
His family is stupid rich. His great grandfather survived the titanic and profited off the loss and tragedy of it all. They became a huge legacy in our small town of Ports Indiana.
I am not of money. In fact my father is a huge embarrassment to the community. An alcoholic and a gambler. My mother took breath when Eric took interest in me. I mean we all did.
I am no beauty. I have nothing to offer and I am no cook.
I have thin brown hair long but not long enough.
My eyes a light dull green. I am simple in the kindest way.
With all the money my husband makes I can afford to look better but I’ll always be Alice. Simple but kind.
From a dumb family. But with child bearing hips. That’s all I was good for. Child bearing, support, and wifely duties. So I did my best to excel.
Eric wasn’t handsome but he did have noticeable features. He was over 6 feet tall. And had thick dark hair.
He was a brute but I knew my place. Or at least I was good at pretending I did.
His family was prideful all but his sister Lilly. She was different.
Long thick black hair, pale skin she was often mistaken for an exotic Snow White.
Thinking about her, made me feel warm and loud.
She was coming from Seattle to stay with us, to help Eric reform a new project in our community. She was amazing at planning and strategy.
Usually Eric wouldn’t even think of letting a woman help. But his sister was allowed men’s duties. Just not his wife I suppose. That was one woman he didn’t get to control. For that I envied her.
Our house was huge and lonely. All the newest decor but I had not yet provided children. My husband was always gone. It’s hard to make a family with only one set of parts. I spent my days reading or watching others live their lives.
I didn’t need to cook or clean. We hired for that. I was just another piece of furniture it felt. I faded in the background with ease.
