TUESDAY TALES - QUICK

 

Welcome! It's time for more FREE READS on Tuesday Tales. We're back with the continuing story of "Two of Hearts" and it's Terry's turn. When you finish hop on over to the other free reads by the great authors of Tuesday Tales. Find their works HERE. 

                        **********************************************************

After the walk, Terry pushed open the front door. He hadn’t overeaten like that in years. Closing his eyes, he could still taste the rigatoni. Covered in that sauce, that excellent sauce, it had created memories on his tongue. Clare cooked like that, too. As he unharnessed the pug, he remembered winter weekends when they didn’t get dressed, but spent the day cooking, eating, watching tv and making love. It had become a ritual. He’d pick one football game and she’d pick one movie.

Clare would make stew or soup or even a small turkey with stuffing, and bake cookies. And they’d pigged out. Snuggling up together on the sofa, Terry usually started things. A self-confessed breast fanatic, he’d start there. It wasn’t long before the tv was either on pause or totally ignored as they feasted on each other.

After toeing off his shoes, he sighed and padded into the living room. Might as well get some news in quick before he called Clare. While some perfectly made up and coiffed women and men fed details of the latest shooting or scam, Terry’s mind wandered. What would he say to Clare? How could he tell her he needed to talk to her, to connect with her, every day? He didn’t want to come off as needy, a tyrant, or, worse, a chauvinist. But he had rights, as her husband, and someone who adored her, didn’t he?

At ten of, his cell rang. It was Clare. Her being early was a good sign, wasn’t it? He smiled as he picked up the phone.

“Hi, baby,” he said.

“Hi.” Her tone was decidedly cool.

“We’ve been missing each other…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. But, well, my schedule has changed,” she said.

“Right. What is your schedule? I don’t want to call when you’re in class.” He kept his tone even.

“Texting is really better.”

“I have to be honest. I can’t sleep if I don’t know that you’re safe, wherever you are.”

“You need to touch base every night?”

“Yeah. I do. You’re my wife, I want to know you’re okay.” There! He’d gotten it out on the table.

Silence. He paced in the living room.

That's all. Thanks for stopping by.