Thursday, September 15, 2011

Dian vs Dianne

Anna doesn't get the girl, Debra gets them both.
Page 37

 So there it was, we were so utterly irrevocably busted. 

“What the fuck?"; Sabrina slowly sat down.

Debra explained things, as if they could be explained. Sabrina asked about Anna, knowing full well she could not have known. She insisted either we needed to stop, or Anna needed to be told. Cynthia, who had also been a love interest of Debra’s was even more convinced this was wrong and needed to end. She didn’t care who knew, who found out, or why. She did not want Debra and me to be together, and she would make anything happen to stop it. Till then I thought no one outside of the familial circle would care. If you think nobody cares, try missing a couple of payments.

We all started arguing in tandem after all, Anger is a lot more fun when it’s shared. I tried to placate everyone, I made a joke “Well, if this doesn’t work out I can always move in with you two"; Not so funny, I think Debra was more pissed at me for that statement than the catastophe so apparent. Debra begged them to not tell Anna. I could not understand WHY they would, but then I was having an affair with my husband's sister's lover. So I wasn't the "go to" person on morality issues.

The days following this discovery things became edgy and everyone seemed to be distracted.

Anna became very needy with Debra. But, one of the ONLY things that didn’t happen; they weren’t making love.

One July morrning, I sat at the kitchen table reading the paper. Anna came in and stood in front of the refrigerator staring blankly.

“You can look at the menu, but you just can’t eat";

She reached in a gathered up the makings for a sandwich.

“Is there nothing good to eat?" I asked. 

“I was talking about my life"; Anna reached into the drawer and took out a knife.

I silently reminded myself to hide those.

“What is it Anna"; did I REALLY want to know? But I asked.

“Well, Dian and I made love, and then she gave me the news"; she spread the mayo on wheat bread piled up with several colors of lunch meat and added the frilly, lacy lettuce I had purchased from a local flagship store. I got up and sliced some crimson onions, sweet and tart. I made myself a sandwich; I should have just rubbed it directly on my thighs because that is exactly where it was going to end up if I chose to eat it, which, lately, has been difficult. But I wanted to create a feeling of camaraderie with Anna.

She pushed the papers to the floor, unusual for her to create a mess, but she was resigned, and I as well.

“What the fuck, Dianne, why does it have to be this way?"

acacacacacacTo be continued...cacacacacacaac

Howard Jones/No one is to Blame

No comments:

Post a Comment