This is the second story I wrote more than twenty years ago. I spent the morning fixing it, but needs more work I sure. It is in first person.
It is just after 9:00 on a Sunday night. Susan and I had a long and unusual weekend. She was going to bed early, do some reading, and turn in for the night. She disappeared down the hall to the bedrooms. A moment later, she returned and left me with a quick comment. This comment I found curious, amusing, and loving. To understand the significance of this comment I have to tell you about our weekend.
We will be married 23 years come September. We bought our little 3-bedroom brick ranch within a month of being married. Within two years, we had our first son Peter. Paul was born a little more than two years after him.
Peter is the studious one. He graduated top in his class and was valedictorian. He is on a partial scholarship and working his way through college in the southern part of the state. He tries to come home as much as possible, but we only see him four or five times a year.
Paul is the athletic type who could have had better grades if he applied himself more. Paul received a full ride through football at a nearby college. They named him all state for linebackers for schools in our division. Paul is his mother’s son.
It is the last weekend in July and Susan said we had to take him to school. Football practice starts next week and the school is offering orientation this weekend for the freshman players. We left the house yesterday with both my car and Paul’s car full of stuff he just had to have. It is a forty-minute drive to the college where the Dorm Monitor and a Student Affairs assistant met us. After settling Paul in his new home for the next four years, we had lunch and a tour of the campus.
It was nearly 4:00 before we were done. Susan and I drove back to our hometown. It was a quiet drive as Susan lamented the loss of her baby. We stopped by our favorite restaurant for a quick meal. We finished by sitting and talking for two hours. We decided to go dancing to celebrate our newfound freedom.
I know the club we used to attend before having kids is still open. It has changed considerably in the last twenty years. Everything is in black with mystic colored lights all over. The bartender had a red Mohawk haircut and a skull & crossbones coming out of his nose.
The second club was playing rap music. The third had indescribable loud music and neither of us knew how to dance to it. We arrived home just before 10:00 and my ears were still ringing from the last club. I know what my father meant when he told me to turn down that loud “crap.” We watched the last of an old movie and went to bed.
Sunday mornings are special for me. It was five years ago when the doctor told me I had high cholesterol. The wife put me on a low fat diet. After several weeks of arguing, Susan allowed me to keep my Sunday morning breakfast if I would stay on her diet the rest of the week.
Two eggs over lightly, two sausage links, and two pieces of rye toast lightly buttered with strawberry jam was what we agreed. I always make a third link of sausage for Susan, when she does not eat it; I have to eat it for her. After five years, you would think I would have learned not to make a link for her.
She likes a three-egg omelet with one yolk removed. Top it with sliced ham and some grated cheese. She will shower as I cook on Sunday mornings. We have been doing this so long, it is perfectly timed that when her breakfast hits the table she coming out for it. I grabbed the morning paper and sat down to my breakfast. When I finished eating, I notice Susan’s omelet was hardly touched and she was poking it with her fork. She would yell at the boys when they were young for doing what she is doing now. “Not very hungry,” I queried lovingly.
“I don’t know.” Her face curled at the notion. “The house seems empty and quiet without the boys.”
We started talking about being empty nesters as I ran the water for the dishes. I actually wash the dishes the first few Sundays we were married. Then she would rewash them. Everyone has a quirk and Susan’s quirk is she has to wash the dishes. Even when her mother visits, Susan will rewash after her mother goes to bed. Susan questioned me one time about not washing dishes on Sunday mornings. Just cutting out the middleman was my response.
After the sinks were full, I went over and started massaging her back. I pointed out, “There is an advantage to having the kids out of the house. If we want, we can clear everything off the table and do it right here.” At my age with bad knees, this thought was not appealing, but it did achieve my goal by Susan giving me a chuckle.
When my massaging reached to her upper arms, she sprung up and kissed me. First, a little peck on the lips and then a major lip-lock. She held me tight and I could feel every part of her pressing upon me. It was if she was trying to squeeze us in to one. As things became heated, I remember thinking to myself “This will be a very special Sunday morning.”
Then we heard it. The knob to the back door which leads into the kitchen, jiggled. It jiggled again, and then we could hear a key going into the slot. Susan ran for the bedroom and I hid myself in front of the sink and started washing dishes.
There was Paul, who could not stay away for 24 hours, coming through the door. I snapped “What are you doing here … I need to change the locks.” Paul had a strange look on his face to see dad washing dishes and mom nowhere in sight. Both boys knew there was only one person who washed dishes in this house.
With a startled stare he asked, “Where’s mom?”
“She is getting dressed for church” said with distain in my voice and scowl on my face.
Susan appeared in the kitchen still in her robe with the lie still wet upon my lips. “What’s wrong honey,” she milked. “Would you like some breakfast?”
“He missed breakfast,” I begrudged him. Well, he forgot something and wanted to get it. She fussed over him for about a half hour, before he left.
She went over and started washing the dishes as I read the morning paper. After a while, I did not hear the dishes rattling and wanted to see if I could pick where when rudely interrupted. She was almost completely dressed when I peered into the bedroom. Before I could say anything, she pointed out we needed to get to church early this morning.
After service, Susan had a function with the Women in the Church. I watch the game on TV. Peter called during the third inning. He related to me the call he received earlier this morning from Paul. Paul called him just after nine to explain our strange behavior. Peter told Paul that we were probably getting romantically involved when he stopped home unannounced. Paul called Peter sick for discussing such things.
Susan called at 4:30 saying she was held up. “I have a ride and would you get dinner started?”
I called for pizza. There is a parlor, which started making low fat pizzas. I called and ordered one with mushrooms, onions, and peppers. Susan arrived home right after the delivery came. I showed her the box with “LOW FAT” in big red letters before she had a chance to chastise me. She did needle me about half way through the pizza when she said, “you should have ordered it with Italian sausage.”
Right after dinner, I went to the church for a deacon’s meeting. On the way back home, I thought about the events of the day and realized that Susan had not said one word about what almost happened this morning. Not knowing made me feel a little anxious whether she was mad or glad about this morning events.
I sat with my arm around her until she announced her intentions to go to bed. She started down the hall, came back, and made the comment that reminded me why I love her so; “I thought you were going to change the locks today.”
A slice of life sprinkled with some humour and love. In my opinion, this is well written. I enjoyed reading this.
Sandie
P.S. I noticed that you did not double-space when separating the paragraphs. It could be hard on the readers' eyes. If you want to separate the paragraphs with double spacing, you can just hold down the "Shift" key and press the "Enter" each time you require a double-spacing.
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