Thomas Behnke

Prof. Walia

ENW302

09/26/2019

David had just made the decision to start dinner when his cell phone rang. The caller ID flashed SISTER1 and he answered.

“Hi Liz, what’s up?”

“Hey David, you busy?”

“Not really.  Want to talk logistics? I just need directions to the school. It starts at ten, ya?”

David walked into the kitchen.

“Yeah, ten. I’ll text you the address. It’s the same exit as me, so the same amount of time to get there.”

He filled a pot of water and brought it to the stove. “Great,” he said.  “Can’t believe the girls are out of high school. Are we old, now?”

“You definitely. Me never.”

David laughed as he lit the burner under the pot. He put the lid on. “I got them both cool things. Do you think they would prefer money?”

“Your presents are always the best, David.”

As David was walking out of the kitchen, the front door opened and Michelle, his wife, walked in.

“Aww shucks,” David said into the phone, “you make a guy blush.”

Michelle gave him a questioning look, and he silently mouthed “Liz.” Michelle’s face contorted into that “I smell shit,” face he loathed so much.

She walked up to him, and in a low, angry voice said, “You need to get off the phone now.”

Liz’ voice was immediately in his ear. “Bitch face is home, I hear. My condolences. Okay, I guess I’ll go.”

“Hold on, Liz,” he said.  He held the phone against his shoulder and addressed his wife.

“I just need to talk to her about this weekend. I put the water on for pasta. Going to heat up sauce in fridge.”

“What did you do today?”

In response, David held his hand palm out to her and resumed the call.  Michelle huffed away. David headed back into the kitchen. He had a habit of pacing when he was on the phone that was unconscious until Michelle pointed it out to him five years ago. Now it was a self-conscious tic.

“Okay, Liz. Where were we?”

“Plotting wife death.”

“Have you considered a career in stand up? Because if so, don’t.” He grabbed another pot and placed it on the counter. He opened the fridge and took a Tupperware with tomato sauce out.

“Maybe I’m not the one to talk,” Liz said. “God knows, I stayed too long with John. All I will say is this. Derek and I have a spare room, and our bills are paid. You don’t eat much. Abigail and Mary are gone for the summer after graduation. Hostels in Europe. Abigail is taking a ukulele with her. Which means that there will be an entire studio in the basement, with guitars, drums, flutes, mandolins and amps, just collecting dust.”

“I can’t believe you would say something that is so hurtful.” David said.

Liz laughed. “Well I did. Have you been playing lately?”

“As a matter of fact—”

Before he could finish Michelle stormed into the kitchen.

“Why are you still on the phone? Why didn’t you put the sauce on?” She pushed herself in front of David and snatched the Tupperware from in front of him, pulled off the lid and dumped it in the empty pot.

Liz’ whispered in his ear. “Do I need to drive up there and kick her down a flight of stairs?”

“Karma says no,” David said, “Look, let me go, sis. I will see you on Saturday. Text me that thing. Love you lots.”

“Empty room. Rent free. Music studio. Bye brother.”

Liz ended the call.

David turned to Michelle. “What was that about?” he said, pointing at the pot that now sat on a burner warming up. “I was just about to do it. What is your problem?”

“Love you lots,” Michelle said mockingly. “Your whole family is a bunch of phonies and losers.”

“Why does my loving my sister bother you so much?”

“Please. You didn’t speak to her for ten years. Now your loving siblings?”

“Yes, because some people actually get over things. They move the fuck on.”

“What did you do today, David?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean tell me everything you did.”

David scratched his head. “Well, let’s see. I went shopping. I did some writing. I reminded Jonathan that I wouldn’t be at work on Saturday. I vacuumed the house, did the laundry. I read a bit and was going to start dinner when Liz called.”

“What else?”

David walked out of the kitchen. “I’m not playing twenty questions with you. Spit out whatever you want to say, or don’t. Are you taking over dinner, because I do have other things I’d like to be doing.”

“I saw Cathy on my way upstairs.”

Cathy was the super’s wife. They had recently bought an akita from the same kennel David and Michelle had gotten their dog.

“Did she have Dakota with her? He’s so beautiful and he’s getting so big.”

“No, but she did tell me you have a great singing voice.”

Oh shit, David thought, here we go. Best gird our loins for battle.

“Did she? Well, I think she is overstating the case a bit, but—”

“What the fuck were you doing playing guitar in front of the house? What is wrong with you?

“I’m sorry, I’m confused. In what universe is it aberrant behavior to play guitar in public?”

“It’s embarrassing.  You caterwauling so the neighbors can hear. You’re not good. You’ve never been good.”

“Well, music is a subjective thing, but going by the only witness we have, that would make public opinion on the quality fifty fifty, wouldn’t it? And regardless, even if I were terrible, how am I am embarrassing anyone but myself?”

“You’re not a musician anymore, remember?”

“That is actually an interesting point. I have been guilty of saying that to people, that I used to be a musician. But, really, is that accurate? I mean I still know how to play. Isn’t it like saying I used to know how to ride a bike?  I am a musician, I just don’t play in bands anymore or perform on stage.”

“Except the front stoop of your apartment building, like a fucking moron.”

David walked to the coat rack and grabbed his jacket. “I’m not doing this. I didn’t do anything wrong, and if you are mad at something that is perfectly normal, considering you married a working musician, you have to deal with it yourself. Eat what you want. I’ll grab something out. I’m not going to ruin my good mood on you.”

He walked through the doorway. As he was closing the door Michelle screamed at him.

“Go ahead, you coward. You’ll be back. You’ve got nowhere else to go.”

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