Just a talk
My phone rings. Why would I answer? I'm getting ready to leave. Almost time to leave this worker's prison and go see my kids. Been waitin' all week for this.
"Hey Ol' Donny, did ya finish that report?" the shiny new intern asks.
Sinking into my chair, my eyes roll. Uppity new guy still won't shut up and it's quittin' time.
"Yapping down my neck incessantly ain't gonna get me to finish it faster, go talk to the guys in accounting," I say.
A quick pause and I wonder, why this kid's even talking to me. He's gonna be replacing me in a few months but only because I can't type too fast.
My phone rings for the second time. It's the wife. Yeah, yeah, I'll be home soon, whatever. I pack my bag up, pull my coat over my shoulders, hat on top.
I hate cell phones. They're just another thing nagging at me constantly. It's not like I need to answer right away. Why does she even call me after work anymore? It's not like I'm gonna pass on some revelation. I'll get home in time for dinner just like usual.
My phone rings for the third time. It's the wife again. Fine, you got me.
"What is it, dear?" I say.
There's a pause, not sure why. I don't hear the fan over the stove going, so it must be some kinda baked dinner. I can smell it already.
"...Hey honey...you got a minute?" she says.
"Well, I'm outta work now so I can chat, what's goin' on?"
"...We need to talk about something, okay? I'll see you when you get home dear." she says.
"Oh-uh...okay. See you when I get there."
Well that was an...odd call. Don't get those now unless it's talkin' about somethin' important. Guess I'd better hurry home.
As I'm driving home, the road begins to bore me. What's for dinner tonight? What does she wanna talk about and why couldn't she just talk about it over the phone? I don't wanna think right now, I've been doing that all day. I just want to get home and see my kids.
15 minutes later and it's home sweet home. I gotta say, that It's always nice to see that brick all along the front windowsill. Really brings the house together. Time to see what the missus is cookin' though.
Stepping into the front door, Keagan and Kacey run up to me as happy as ever.
"Hey! I'm not even a foot in the door and you kids are all over me."
"Daddy! Look what I made today in class," Kacey says as she shoves her school project in my face.
"This looks wonderful darlin', you're an artist, ya know that?"
It's at this moment that my wife looks me in the eyes and ruins the fun.
"Alright kids that's enough. come on dinner will be ready in a minute okay?"
The kids run off to their rooms and I'm left alone with Lacey.
"So what's up darlin'?"
She quickly gestures to the patio and I follow. She's looking around like she's got somethin' to hide.
"Lace, what's up? what'd you wanna talk to me about?"
She sits down and I wait for the curtain to be drawn away.
"...I want a divorce," she says.
Deafening silence. Like a bomb went off next to my ear, I can't hear anything but my own thoughts. I tried coming up with a witty response like usual, but...I just can’t. Not like this.
"I haven't felt like this has been working for years now. For you...for me...for the kids. They never see you nowadays and when they do, you're only here once a we-"
"Honey could you just...why...? Why?! let's talk about this! what do you mean? Why?!"
"Don, I... I don't know how else to say this but I haven't been behind our relationship for a while now...and to be honest neither have you," she says.
I've never been insulted like that in my entire life. Before I even know what I'm doing, I'm on my feet.
"You think I work overtime every single day I can get because I don't love you?! You think I enjoy being kept away from my family? I do this so you three can eat every night of the fuckin' week?! Huh?! I live for those moments I get to be with you! that's all I get working behind that desk now!"
"Look, Don...I'm sorry...but it's gone on for so long that if you really wanted to leave, you could've..."
"You think it's that simple?!"
"It's much more simple than you're making it, Donald!"
That's when her soft little voice came from behind me.
"...M-Mummy..."
"Oh sweet lord, Kacey, what is it dear? Your father and I were talking," she says, like she wasn't just screaming moments prior.
"...the shepherd's pie is burnt..."
I look Lacey in the eyes. She looks right back into mine.
"Some other time then?"
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About the Author
After jumping around trying to find if he preferred to work in Print Media, Sequential arts and Animation for several years, Christian Bianchi finally settled with becoming a writer and purveyor of fantasy, suspense and horror short stories. With a budding interest in the way cosmic horror is shown today, He aims to take the genre down new paths and explore its possibilities. You can follow his work online at https://cdbianchi.wixsite.com/christianbianchi
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