Saturday night’s all right for fighting
“Are you about ready?” Shirley asked, adjusting her necklace as she walked into the living room. Her husband Sam looked up from the muted TV that displayed a silent war between college football teams.
“Listen, Shirl …” he began. Her face fell. “I’m not feeling real great and I’d rather stay home I think.”
Shirley studied his face and tried not to telegraph her suspicion. “I know you don’t like the Marshalls, but they might not even show. You know how flaky he is, and she’s got the new baby. Maybe they didn’t find a sitter.”
“It isn’t that. I really don’t feel well. Just kind of queasy.” Sam gingerly touched his abdomen for effect, hoping she would let it go.
Shirley sighed. The couple hosting the party, Jan and Marty Dowd were good friends of theirs, but Jan had been distant lately. Shirley considered going alone.
“What if you went without me?” Sam asked. “They’d understand.”
“What kind of a wife leaves her ill husband at home to attend a cocktail party?”
the orc told me to.
“Have you seen my stationery?” Judy asked her lump of a husband who was buried in the paper.
“Yeah, it’s in the basement where you left it. Look for the tall piles of dust-covered money,” he grumbled, referring to her neglected exercise equipment. Judy wasted a hurt glare at him; her eyes weren’t actually lasers and the paper did not ignite.
“Not stationary, stationery. Cards with birds and flowers and well-wishes. Envelopes. Monograms. Paper cuts. “She turned to go back to her craft room and muttered an expletive under her breath.
Gerald harrumphed and shook his paper. “What makes you think I’d know where your crap is?”
“I guess it’s too much to ask you to help me look for it. Wouldn’t want to tear you away from the world tragedies that don’t at all concern you.” She got no reply.
Somebody drove me to the hospital, I don’t remember who. Mom was a wan, nail-biting mess. I remembered about 26 hours later to eat something. Three weeks later, Dad came back to the world, but part of him was gone forever.
We spent a year in that hospital, a dismal routine. Dad had a triple bypass that took five hours and consumed the rest of his life. None of us were the same again. As his sister said some years later, the man who saved him didn’t do him any favors.