Welcome! The word prompt today is "Sweet". We have another episode of "Two of Hearts". When you've finished reading, hop on over to read the other wonderful stories. Find them HERE.
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Her footsteps echoed off the buildings. Leafy trees, still
heavy with rain, drooped a bit. Although the worst of the storm was over,
everything the rain had touched glistened in the light of the street lamps. She
walked carefully along the wet pavement. It wouldn’t do to slip and fall. She
had to stay in good condition to look after Stan.
Suddenly, Willie jerked the
leash from her hand and took off.
“Willie!
Come back!” She ran after him. Fortunately, he’d stopped to sniff another pug.
“You,”
the man said.
Jen looked up. It was the same man from that morning. And his pug. What was her name?
“Queenie,” he said.
“Oh,
right. Queenie.”
“I’m
Terry,” he said, extending his hand.
“Jen.”
She shook it, avoiding his gaze as she watched the dogs.
Willie wagged
his tail with a fury she’d never seen before. The dog was obviously sweet on
this other pug. She smiled, despite the train wreck that was her life. Willie
was funny. He tried to mount the smaller dog.
“No!
Willie! Stop that!” Jen yanked him back.
“Uh, uh,
Willie. No sex without dinner and a movie first,” Terry said, wiggling his
finger at the pooch. Jen tried to laugh at the feeble joke, but only managed a
smile.
“Nothing
to worry about. He’s fixed.”
“Oh,
right. I love the way they say that, ‘fixed’. Like a normal male is broken, or
something.”
“Never
thought of it that way.”
She
shifted her weight, conscious of his scrutiny. Though anxious to get away, she
didn’t have the heart to drag Willie from his playmate.
“How’s
your husband doing?” Terry asked.
“I don’t
know. They put him in a coma.”
“Wow.
I’m sorry.”
She
glanced up to see a sympathetic look that appeared genuine. Finally, someone
who wasn’t accusing her of trying to kill Stan by letting him ride his
motorcycle. Tears threatened. She took a deep breath.
“What
happened?”
“What
does it matter?” She waved her hand.
“I get
it. You don’t have to talk about it.”
“He went
for a ride on his motorcycle. It slid out from under him on the wet street, and
he crashed,” she blurted out. “That’s what the police said. We won’t know until
Stan wakes up.”
“Holy
shit! Fuck. That’s terrible.”
“He
broke some bones and got knocked out. They put him in a coma to let his brain
heal. The doctors don’t know the extent of the damage.”
Terry
gave a low whistle. He took her hand between his two. “That’s horrible.”
At his
touch, her defenses broke. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t. I’d never hurt Stan. I
just want him back the way he was,” she said, unable
to stop tears.
“Of
course, you do.”
“The
doctors won’t tell me anything. They say they don’t know.”
“That’s
understandable. Head injuries are tricky.”
“He broke
his leg and wrist, too.”
“He must
be in pain.”
“That’s
the reason they put him under. To relieve the pain and let him heal.”
“Did
they say how long they’re going to keep him like that?”
She
shook her head. Emotion closed her throat. Barely able to breathe, she couldn’t
speak. There was something about Terry’s manner, his sympathy, that triggered
her emotions. Terry stepped closer and pulled her into a hug. She sobbed into
his shoulder, wetting his shirt. He rubbed her back. After a few moments, aware
of his body pressed to hers, Jen moved away.
That's all. Thanks for stopping by.
