Fiction Writing 1, Homework 5
“Robert.”
She squeezed his bicep. He squirmed loose, reshelved the book he had been holding.
“Robert! How are you?”
“I’m doing fine, Vera.” He paused. “You’re looking well.”
“It’s lovely to see you.” She touched the same place on his arm. “Simply lovely. How long has–”
“Three years. Almost.”
“Three years. That long? You still live around here?”
“Not the same apartment. The new one’s tiny, but it’s cheaper. But the same neighborhood, yes.”
“I can’t get over how it’s changed. Do you still like it?”
“I like it fine, Vera.”
“Is Johnny’s place still open?”
“It is.”
“Oh, do tell him hello. You know, Max and I bought a great big place uptown, near the park. I suppose that was two years ago now.”
He watched over her left shoulder. Two children, each maybe six years old, caught his eye. One sat quietly, absorbed in a copy of Frog and Toad Are Friends. The other had made three separate trips to the drinking fountain in the last two minutes.
“You don’t like when I talk about Max, do you Robert?”
“He’s your husband.”
“You don’t like him, do you?”
“What’s not to like? People like Max. He bought you a big place near the park.”
“I work, Robert. We bought it together.”
“Sure.”
“How about you? Still seeing the same girl?”
“No. That ended.”
“Seeing anyone, then?”
“I’m awfully busy, Vera.”
“You always were. What is it these days?”
He checked his watch. “Look, Vera, it’s been really great–”
“Listen, I have news. I’m not supposed to tell yet, but I’ll bust if I don’t. Robert, I’m pregnant.”
For these last two syllables – preg-nant – her voice shifted to a stage whisper, loud enough to be heard three aisles away.
“You – you what?”
“I know! Can you believe it? Max wants a boy so badly, but” – she exhaled – “I’m on cloud nine either way.”
“You’re pregnant.” He stared, and she nodded. “But when I wanted kids –”
“Oh come now, Robert. You never really meant that.”
“I did!”
He wailed so loud someone actually shushed him, causing him to mutter, “It’s a bookstore, not a goddamn library.”
“Robert–”
“You know I did, Vera. I always wanted kids. You never did.”
“But could you imagine? Us with kids?”
“If you couldn’t imagine it, why did you marry me?”
“You musn’t ask me things like that, Robert.” She put her hand on her belly. “I don’t know how to answer right now. I really, really don’t.”
Neither spoke for some time.
“Well.” He glanced towards his watch. “Again, I should be going.”
“Take care of yourself, Robert.”
He brushed her upper arm, mimicking her earlier gestures. Walking past her, he grabbed a book at random, and charged it to his debit card without checking what it was.
As he exited the bookstore, she took a seat on a bench at the end of the aisle. Two children, each maybe six years old, caught her eye. One sat quietly, absorbed in a copy of Frog and Toad Are Friends. The other wiped his mouth as he turned away from the drinking fountain.
She squeezed his bicep. He squirmed loose, reshelved the book he had been holding.
“Robert! How are you?”
“I’m doing fine, Vera.” He paused. “You’re looking well.”
“It’s lovely to see you.” She touched the same place on his arm. “Simply lovely. How long has–”
“Three years. Almost.”
“Three years. That long? You still live around here?”
“Not the same apartment. The new one’s tiny, but it’s cheaper. But the same neighborhood, yes.”
“I can’t get over how it’s changed. Do you still like it?”
“I like it fine, Vera.”
“Is Johnny’s place still open?”
“It is.”
“Oh, do tell him hello. You know, Max and I bought a great big place uptown, near the park. I suppose that was two years ago now.”
He watched over her left shoulder. Two children, each maybe six years old, caught his eye. One sat quietly, absorbed in a copy of Frog and Toad Are Friends. The other had made three separate trips to the drinking fountain in the last two minutes.
“You don’t like when I talk about Max, do you Robert?”
“He’s your husband.”
“You don’t like him, do you?”
“What’s not to like? People like Max. He bought you a big place near the park.”
“I work, Robert. We bought it together.”
“Sure.”
“How about you? Still seeing the same girl?”
“No. That ended.”
“Seeing anyone, then?”
“I’m awfully busy, Vera.”
“You always were. What is it these days?”
He checked his watch. “Look, Vera, it’s been really great–”
“Listen, I have news. I’m not supposed to tell yet, but I’ll bust if I don’t. Robert, I’m pregnant.”
For these last two syllables – preg-nant – her voice shifted to a stage whisper, loud enough to be heard three aisles away.
“You – you what?”
“I know! Can you believe it? Max wants a boy so badly, but” – she exhaled – “I’m on cloud nine either way.”
“You’re pregnant.” He stared, and she nodded. “But when I wanted kids –”
“Oh come now, Robert. You never really meant that.”
“I did!”
He wailed so loud someone actually shushed him, causing him to mutter, “It’s a bookstore, not a goddamn library.”
“Robert–”
“You know I did, Vera. I always wanted kids. You never did.”
“But could you imagine? Us with kids?”
“If you couldn’t imagine it, why did you marry me?”
“You musn’t ask me things like that, Robert.” She put her hand on her belly. “I don’t know how to answer right now. I really, really don’t.”
Neither spoke for some time.
“Well.” He glanced towards his watch. “Again, I should be going.”
“Take care of yourself, Robert.”
He brushed her upper arm, mimicking her earlier gestures. Walking past her, he grabbed a book at random, and charged it to his debit card without checking what it was.
As he exited the bookstore, she took a seat on a bench at the end of the aisle. Two children, each maybe six years old, caught her eye. One sat quietly, absorbed in a copy of Frog and Toad Are Friends. The other wiped his mouth as he turned away from the drinking fountain.
posted by Anwar Montasir at
1:41 PM
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