TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "WICKED" - TOO LATE FOR GOODBYE

 

        Welcome! This week we have another snippet from "Too Late for Goodbye."   The word prompt is "wicked".        

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Soon Marty would be living on his own –for the first time. He swallowed. Watching his brother drive away, he wondered how it would be to have total privacy. Would he miss Flint or be happy to be alone? He checked his phone, then opened his pocket calendar. The bus ground to a halt before the George Washington Bridge. An accident? He hadn’t expected a traffic jam. Being a planner, he’d built in plenty of time for his appointment with Jenny.

A twinge of guilt shot through him. He’d been wicked, lied to Flint. He only had one appointment to discuss printing –with that luscious blonde he’d met at the Harvest dance. If Flint knew, Marty would never hear the end of it.

But Jenny had taken his card and called for an estimate for their printing services. It wasn’t from the ad, but hell, it was a business meeting. His nerves kicked up as he checked his watch again. Their meeting was scheduled for eleven thirty. He hoped to take her to lunch after. Hell, if she’d have dinner with him, too, he’d give her the printing services at cost. But he couldn’t tell Flint.

Jenny had two children, a boy and a girl. He’d always shied away from dating single women with kids because he didn’t want the responsibility. But when he saw Jenny laughing and dancing and singing with hers, his heart melted.

He stared out the window at the traffic inching along. It was a gray, windy day in March. Dirty old buildings rose up, blocking his view. Verging on being late, he hailed a taxi that crawled through a snarl of cars and trucks. Sweat beaded on his forehead as the hands of the clock moved faster than he did.

The yellow cab stopped in front of a small, two-story building, sandwiched between an older ten-story apartment house and a well-kept, proud, four-story townhouse. He checked the address, paid the driver, and stepped out of the vehicle, right into a patch of mud.

Sliding on the slippery stuff, he fell on his butt on the street.

“Hey, Mister! You okay?” The cabbie turned in his seat.

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. Fine,” Marty muttered. He prayed Jenny hadn’t been looking out her window. What a clumsy fool! As the cab pulled away, he brushed himself off. 

Now there was mud drying on the sides. What about mud on his butt? Great. And he couldn’t even see how much dirt was on the back of his pants. Wonderful impression he’d make. Like some rube from the sticks. And he’d probably wrecked his new suit, too. Stupid dumbass move. With a sigh, Marty approached the front stoop. He pressed the buzzer.

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That's it for this week. Stop by the other Tuesday Tales talented authors. You'll find them HERE.  Thanks for stopping by.