Sunday, August 10, 2014

Tell Me a Story

An old friend asked if I'd been doing any writing...

The sky was gray, thick with threatening clouds.

“I need you to talk to our daughter,” she said.

“I’ve been seeing someone since I got here,” she said.

I'd left first. Moved to Arizona. To start over.

“It’s been a couple months now,” she said.

She left after I did. Back to California. With the dogs. To stay at her dad's. To find work. To start over. We were still working on the divorce.

“You need to tell her it’s okay, that people move on,” she said.

“I’ll tell her,” I said.

Lightning flashed, thunder crackled, only a half tick apart.

“Is he good to you?” I asked, stupidly.

“Do you mean is he interested in what I say? Does he want to do things with me? Is he funny? Does he make me laugh? If it was all over tomorrow, would it have been worth it?” she asked. “Is that what you wanted to know?” She paused. “Yeah, he’s good to me that way.”

“I deserved that,” I said.

“You didn’t have to ask,” she said.

The rain came.  The pines outside the window dissolved into a gray mist.