Excerpt from short story, “Manhattan”
This is an excerpt from the Seger song, “Manhattan”. I read to my wife and she thought it was funny, so I decided to share this part with my readers, enjoy.
June 2010
I quietly opened the door, my back hurt. My feet were swollen and killing me. I was seven months pregnant, miserable, and somebody needed to share my misery. I looked across the small restaurant run by our good friend, “Chef Adam B.” My husband Randy sat nursing a glass of wine, oblivious to me. What was going to happen next wasn’t fair to him, but he wasn’t the one carrying twenty-five extra pounds. My husband finally noticed me, jumped up, and pulled out my chair. I clumsily sat down. My department issued sidearm slamming into my kidneys.
“Dang!” I groaned.
Chef Adam drifted out of the kitchen, hovered next to me for just an instant, bowed, kissed my hand and said, “Relax Teresa, my favorite cold case police woman. I’ve made your favorite dinner, Rainbow Trout.”
I sighed, shifting my weight again, trying to find a comfortable position, “Bless you Adam, your wife is truly a lucky woman.”
He gave me his shy, unassuming smile, “I’ll make sure I remind her how lucky she is when I see her tonight.”
Randy said, “What about me?”
I tried to sound mad, “You made me in a family way. You’re the reason I’m miserable.”
He said, “But honey, we both contributed equally to the effort.”
I said, “No, I gave an XX chromosome, and you gave an XY. You determine the sex of the child; therefore, your burden is greater. We’re having a boy. I’m thirty-seven, what were you thinking Randy?”
My husband was speechless and I was doing well. Therefore, I pressed my advantage.
“I spoke to the doctor’s office today. They’ve allowing my plan for you to share in the childbirth experience.”
His look said confusion, uncertainty. A woman would stop and ask for clarification at this point, not my husband and most men would have fallen for my trap.
His voice weak, “That’s great honey, uh, exactly what is this planned childbirth experience.”
I laughed, couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I get to tie a string to your testicles and every time I feel a contraction I pull.”
He unconsciously crossed his legs, covered his crotch with both hands, and bent slightly forward. “You’re just having fun with me, right?”
I reached across the table and pinched his cheek, “Yes, for now, but remember how miserable I am everyday dear.”
October 28, 2010 at 12:45 pm
Oh man, this would be sweet…but I honestly think the guy couldn’t handle it. He would cut the string and run. Poor woman can’t.
Love your writing…wish you would get active on CC so we could talk and I read each other’s work.
October 28, 2010 at 1:13 pm
I’m finally feeling like the old Dan. Stopping all of my medications messed up my body chemistry.
I’m writing every day that I don’t work as a substitute teacher. Best of all, I’m excited about the stories.
I’ll check back into CC, I promise.
Speaking of women and men issues, just experienced a mammogram. I’ll never make a smarty comment about those types of procedures again. They found a fibrous mass in my right breast, cancer free. Still, hurts like heck. I agree the guy would cut the cord. lol