Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.
“I’m so sorry.” Maureen continued to apologize for
her ill-mannered child, even though she clearly wasn’t to blame for his bad
behavior. And honestly I couldn’t fault the minister either. Face it, Joe Jr.
was just a bad egg.
Ethan, Sarah, and Benny were quick to assure her
that his words were not his fault, while I maintained a stoic silence. Both
because I didn’t feel it was my place to intrude in this family moment and also
because I had nothing but expletives to use regarding him and didn’t think that
would be appropriate behavior on my part.
The minister retreated to his study, at least
momentarily, leaving the rest of us to ourselves.
“I’m so sorry, where are my manners? I bet you’re
all thirsty after your long trip. What can I get you?”
We all protested that we didn’t want to be any
trouble but in the end Maureen prevailed, and Benny went into the kitchen with
her to help bring out glasses of homemade Southern sweet tea. Not until
everyone was settled with their drink, including Alex who was enjoying fruit
juice in his special cup Grandma kept just for him, did the conversation return
to the original subject of Joe Jr’s missing wife.
“Heather moved out suddenly one day,” Maureen
explained. “I don’t know her reasons as I haven’t talked to her. And Joey hasn’t
exactly been forthcoming with information.” She sighed. “Haven’t seen her or
heard from her since then. Neither has Joe, and you know how close they were.”
Ethan and I exchanged glances but neither of us said
a word. Didn’t seem appropriate somehow. Also, what could we say? From where we
stood, they seemed closer than close. I didn’t want to be the one to accuse
Ethan’s father of infidelity without at least some evidence of it, but they
sure gave a good impression of being cheaters.
Well, there was that time we caught them shopping
together, back when I was dressed like a woman and Ethan’s mother was in the
hospital, before I came out as me. There was
a negligee in their cart, a delicate little red thing, it was. And never mind
that until we saw them, I had the strangest feeling Ethan was angling to get
one of those same skimpy garments for me to wear. Thank goodness, that never
happened. Truth be told, we never did
receive an explanation of what was going on that day, and they never offered to
explain. Not like we asked, either. Talk
about awkward. I had ended up diffusing the situation by pretending to be hurt,
thus drawing Ethan’s attention to something other than his possibly cheating
father.
Still, although that in and of itself might look
damning—and trust me, it did—I don’t think that testimony would fly in a court
of law.
Caught up in my own thoughts, I almost missed what
Maureen said next. That Joe’s insurance business had gone belly up (my words,
not hers), and that’s why he was back home. Unemployed, without his wife, and
generally miserable.
I could have told her he struck me as a very
miserable person who deserved everything he got, but I wisely held my tongue.
Evening was already approaching. I hadn’t noticed
before but a delicious aroma emanated from the kitchen, one that made my mouth
fairly water. And reminded me we had miles to go before we slept,
unfortunately. Ethan must have read my mind. We exchanged glances. I could see
he felt worse than I did. It wasn’t often he was able to enjoy being in the
bosom of his family like this, even if his brother was right upstairs. I liked
the way this felt myself, so I could understand he was reluctant to end it.
But it’s also not like we had a choice.
“You’ll stay to dinner, won’t you?” Maureen asked.
“I have a pot roast in the oven, with potatoes and vegetables. And I made fresh
bread today.”
That sounded so very good.
“Mom, I wish we could—” Ethan’s phone rang, cutting
him off mid-sentence. Anderson again? The hairs on the back of my neck stood up
in alarm.
Ethan rose and beckoned to me to do the same. He
excused us and we headed to the front porch as he answered the call, putting it
on speaker for my benefit.
“How far from the hotel are you?” Anderson asked. No
hello, no preamble.
“Maybe an hour and a half or so,” Ethan said.
“What’s up?”
“I think maybe you should stay away from Atlanta for
right now. Maybe for a few days even.”
No comments:
Post a Comment