Plus or Minus?
17 Jan 2010 1 Comment
in Fiction
This is a flash fiction story I wrote last year.
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I nearly catch the hem of my track pants on the side of the cart return, but I keep walking. I’m clumsy by nature, but I have to smile to myself–I’m hoping my lack of balance is just another sign. Inside the store, I manage to wrangle a red cart away from the others that are herded together, like retail cattle, waiting to stampede over to the dollar bins. But I breeze past the wonders that are $0.99 each, steer the cart towards the Pharmacy, and dial him.
“This is Mark. I’m on duty. Leave me a message, and I’ll call you when I can.”
“Hey, it’s me; I know you’re probably out saving people right now, but I wanted to tell you I’m at the store, picking up some…well, you know, the test. Love ya.”
I ease my cart onto the family planning aisle. I know every brand there is. I’ve memorized every instruction sheet in every one, back when I liked to blame my infertility on a botched test box and not on my cantankerous ovaries. But I’ve puked twice. I’m off balance. My breasts hurt like hell. Please let this be real.
I take the least intimidating one. Like a young girl experiencing her period for the first time, or that first time of thinking “…oh my God, he’s asked me to stay over, I better have…” I can’t just put the test in my cart and go through speedy checkout. No, I’m going to get some other items, as if a tube of teeth whitening toothpaste could hide my anticipation. I grab a few other toiletries, and head towards the checkout. Impulsively, I decide to go down the baby aisle instead…just for a few minutes. I reach out and touch the onesies, the terry cloth towels, the sleeper set with the football on the sleeve. Mark wants a boy so badly, even though he never says it. Another Brenton man to grow up and ride the firetruck. Please let this be real.
I look down at my watch and realize I’ve been standing here for nearly thirty minutes. Mark! I flip open my cell as I hurry down the aisle towards the checkout.
“This is Mark. I’m on duty. Leave me a message, and I’ll call you when I can.”
“Hey, it’s me; the store was pretty crowded and uh, I’m just now on my way to check out. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Love ya!”
I drive home, fiddling with the radio. Will Mark want dinner, or should I take the test, and then we’ll eat? Or maybe I’ll take the test, get the results, and we’ll go out to celebrate. I pull into the driveway.
I put the bags on the counter, drop my keys in the dish, and proceed directly to the bathroom. I rip the top off the box and take the test. Please let this be real.
The doorbell rings, and I laugh. “Stop being silly, crazy man, and come into this house.” I open the door and see Father Daniel and Fire Chief Boyer. Their uniforms are neatly pressed, but their faces are disheveled.
“Mrs. Brenton, may we come in?”
My mind has gone there, but my heart shuts tightly. I nod yes and mumble, “I’ll be right back.” I run to the bathroom, close my eyes, and throw the test in the top drawer, in between the half used toothpaste and the dental floss. I flip open my cell phone and dial him.
“This is Mark. I’m on duty. Leave me a message, and I’ll call you when I can.”
“Mark, come home. Please come home.”
I walk numbly back into the living room and sink down onto the edge of the sofa. Please don’t let this be real.
