Monday, July 11, 2011

I Spy: The Ghost of A Good Thing

He had been dreading this conversation for weeks.

She dragged him here, to this public beverage arena; inescapable, automatic inside-voices-only.
He came reluctantly.
"Let's sit by the window-- it's more private".
(An oddly paned privacy through which his wishes to be anywhere elsewhere could wander with ease.)
She prepped her nerves with wine.
"We need to talk..." she began.
"Yeah? Ok, shoot."
Like clockwork, the cuticle examination began. What a sight! Avoidance at his fingertips...
But she took his hand in hers to re-create a sense of what once was. To prove she had his best interests at heart.
It is said that a woman's touch can tame a wild beast, but her skin only agitated him further.
Hand in captivity, his attention veered towards the window.
Outside, it was beginning to rain.
He prayed to each falling drop that she didn't start to cry.
In carefully monitored words, she began to lay the foundation of what would soon become a leaning tower of grievances.
He took a swig of her wine and she pretended not to mind the obvious interruption.
"I just don't get it Blake. How can you say you love me, but never have time for me?"
He semi-considered the question, leaning back in his chair with an exasperated arm stretched out, as if he were half Christ for meeting her in the first place.
"What do you think is going on now? We're here, aren't we? I don't see the problem, sweetheart."
Her face turned a pinker shade of disbelief, and she continued to rebuttal pleas to the side of his window-turned head.
The truth was, he had been busy up to this point. There were long days of work at the auto shop, followed by nightly poker with the guys and bike trips on weekends. Sure, they saw less of each other than when they had first started dating, but he thought he was doing a fairly good job at balancing everything, all things considered.
"Seriously Blake, you pay more attention to Sadie than you do to me!"
He couldn't help but smile at the mention of his loyal golden retriever.
She didn't return the grin.
And this made him wonder why he was with a girl who was jealous of a dog.
Time to switch gears.
"Oh man, Sadie did the funniest thing the other day! We were watching the game, and I had her fetch me another beer, and I guess she must have bit into the can, cause she came swaggering back all drunk and started growling when the Yankees were up to bat and then she shi-- "
"BLAKE!"
"What?"
The whining recommenced, berating him from the opposite side of the table.
He sighed. It was conversations like these that made him wish she could be more like Sadie. After all, Sadie was always up for cuddling or going for a hike at a moment's notice. She fetched things without complaint and didn't lecture him when he swore. On top of it all, the only serious moments with Sadie were wrestling and squirrel chasing, which both companions considered to be seriously fun."
"I just want things to be like they used to! I'm tired of being serious all the time!"
He thought that was ironic, considering she was the one who had interrupted the funny story.
He almost pointed this out.
But outside the clouds were parting, and it was becoming a beautiful day. Back at home, Sadie was probably holding her leash, hoping for a walk. He was done with their chat. He was done before it started. From practice, he knew that the only way to insure that the tears and rain kept their distance was to stuff the righteous manhood and repent his faults to his woman.

So he asked for forgiveness.
Promised to do better.
The wine and glimmer of sun lowered her standards.
She embraced him, saying, "See, I knew we were made for each other."
He smiled to her satisfaction, propelled only by the image of Sadie's head shaking when he recounted the afternoon on their walk. She would give him that look, as if to say "Gee whiz, what a bitch!"
"It takes one to know one", he would respond, scratching her behind the ears.

For today, a narrow escape.

But he dreads the next conversation for weeks.


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