Thursday, May 24, 2018

In the Making

Why did Fiorella use up all her good posts yesterday? Today she'll just have to fill the space by teasing you with a story she's working on:

 “Thanks for not saying anything to the boys about Keith , Lolly.  I’m filing for divorce this time, but he’s still their father.”  She dug into the ice cream with a plastic paddle.  “I don’t understand him anymore.  Maybe he’s having some kind of mid-life crisis, but, my God, he’s just thirty-six, the same age I am.”
“You said he’d done it before?”
“He’s had a few flings, and he totally ran out on me once, but it’s never gone this far.  Lolly, he’s actually talking about marrying this—this girl—he‘s shacked up with.”
“How old is she?”
“Eighteen, for God’s sake!  Just four years older than Eric!”
“How’d he meet her?”
“At a bar on Sixth Street.  Where else?”
“This is so weird, Sarah.  I’ve never known Keith to drink anything but diet colas until that night he went after me.”
“When he jumps the traces, he goes all the way.  It’s like a different personality takes over.”
“Do you think it could be some sort of psychological disorder.”
“No.  Actually I think it’s his real personality bursting through the sham.”
“You think he’s been faking it all along?”
 “Yeah.  I think he figured out how to latch onto a rich wife and to get ahead, but the role began wearing thin.  That’s why he was staying away from the house more and more—it certainly wasn’t because he was so popular at the hospital.  I called his nurse right after I got home from Bisque Bend and she told me he’d been suspended.  And now he’s staging a raid on the house to grab the boys.”
“Dad and Cotton will handle that.”  At least she prayed they would.  Oh, God, she hoped Cotton was okay—and Dad, of course, but while she’d always love Dad, Cotton was her primary concern now.
Sarah finished scooping out the ice cream and opened a drawer for spoons.  “Keith’s beginning to scare me.”
A shadowy figure knocked on the kitchen door and the spoons clattered to the floor.

No comments: