angel bones part 2

396466621_6890ec49df_oThe ride home together was long but it seemed like a minute because of our fighting. I asked him, “Why did you dance with her and not me?” He said it felt like the first time he met me.

“I get it, I’m stale.” I said. I have to give him credit for bravery. Some guys cheat on the sly. He flaunts it.

Now I sit on the couch, half-dead, staring at him reading the paper. I let him in for God knows what reason and it’s like last week never happened. Am I supposed to offer him something? It’s like that Saturday Night Live sketch with John Belushi: “The Thing That Wouldn’t Leave.” I expect him to ask for potato chips and beer. If he’s trying to get back together, he has a funny way of showing it.

He sneezes so I offer him a tissue. When we made out for the first time, he had to stop because he sneezed uncontrollably. I asked him if it was allergies and he said no, he always sneezes when he gets horny. I never heard of that before, but put up with it because he was a sweet guy back then. But it got confusing after a while especially during cold and flu season. Half the time I didn’t know whether to take off my clothes or offer him Sudafed.

I stare out the window. Dead black widow spiders lie on the ground with faded dog toys. Rose bushes stick me each time I prune them which is only once a year because I don’t look forward to the pain. My hands cramp up the next day and I give up on having blooming roses in the back yard. I dream of a wonderful yard but don’t know if I want to put that much work into it. I don’t have a magic wand to make a sparkling water fountain, vegetable garden, and a rainbow of roses.

He folds the paper, throws it on the table and heads for the door. “Hey, how’s your friend Darcy doing? You know the skinny one with a rose tattoo on her shoulder?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, do you have her number?”

I slam the door, rub my eyes and go back to bed.


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