BonnieBon
10-21-2002, 12:19 AM
this my story that is going to be torn apart-- i mean, critiqued by half my class tomorrow... hehe. I need to flesh it out another page or so tonight --so if anyone has suggestions, gimme..:) or if something specific does or doesn't work...tell me
uggg i need a title too....
"Title Goes Here"
He had the ability to piss me off like no one else. He left his dirty socks on the floor beside the laundry basket. He went to the store to bring me margarine and came back with everything but. He strolled in the door every night and plopped down in front of the TV... but never before stopping to give me a kiss and ask how my day had been. No matter how many little things he did wrong, everyone knew that his biggest flaw was his love.
I complained about his snoring and how he always left the milk out on the counter. I muttered under my breath when he walked across the freshly shampooed carpet. I protested his weekly investment in the lottery even though I knew he only wanted the money to build me a lakeside home just like the one I'd grown up in.
"Someday," he promised me. "Someday we'll get out of the city and live life the way it was meant to be lived. Just you, me and the kids. No more of these night meetings or cancelled vacations."
The time he spent on his career didn't seem like a big sacrifice on paper, but felt like a lifetime when paired with raising a mini version of him. Jimmy Jr would sit and watch him at his drafting table, sketching what everyone knew would be the next trend in modern architecture. Then, as always, my pride would be drowned in a sea of phone calls.
"Jimbo. We love the new building. You've gotta get out to Sacramento by Thursday to show your prints to the mayor." Or, "Jimmy! President Shinh Cho loves your new design, pack your bags, we're spending the weekend in China."
His absence didn't make things easy, but we got by. He'd come home from his business trips and we'd go about our lives for another month. At the beginning of our marriage, I'd prayed for his success, but as we came upon our seventh year, I began to see my mother's point in wanting me to marry an executive. Still, we got by.
Jim's career was at it's peak. I couldn't have been more proud, but I could have been more supportive. Our son knew that daddy only missed his soccer games and Karate tournaments because he was busy supporting his family, so why couldn't I? This wasn't Jim's complaint for me, it was my own. When I raised my concerns, he would simply wrap his hands around my clenched fists and bring them up to his lips for a kiss, promising that the busy lifestyle was temporary.
I tried to believe him. On the surface I was his picture perfect wife: cooking the meals, keeping the house and supporting him in whatever he decided to take on. Inside, I was struggling to keep everything together: office work at the elementary school, our son and preparing for the new addition to our family.
I didn't want to tell him until I found out the sex of the baby. He would have supported me either way, but I knew he'd always dreamt of having a little girl. Once I knew for sure, I planned a special evening where I could share the news with him. Romatic candlelit dinner for two under the stars at our favorite Italian restaurant. My cell rang as the valet took my car.
"Sweetie, I'm really sorry. Max just booked me on a weekend trip to San Jose to see about some property. I..."
"Just go," I told him.
He apologized and I knew that he meant it.
I decided the news could wait until the next week.
"What were you going to tell me?" He asked.
"We'll talk about it over dessert next week- at Giavanni's. We can go after Jimmy Jr's play."
He told me he wouldn't miss it for the world... I was always amazed at how often I always lost to the world. When he called to tell me he was running late and might miss our son's school play, I told him I'd had it. He tried to apologize. "I'm gonna do better honey," he told me. After seven years, he was going to try to start being on time for events that were planned months in advance. Or finally work on one of his equally annoying habits. It wasn't enough for me, and I told him so. I hung up on him for the first time, and fed his supper to our yellow lab.
Jimmy Jr asked if daddy was coming to his play, and I told him he had an important meeting and would do his best to get out in time. In the school auditorium, I laid my purse on the seat beside me in case my husband had finally gotten his priorities straight. It wasn't that he was going to miss seeing our six year old playing December in the acclaimed hit, "The Months of the Year." It wasn't even the fact that I'd have to make excuses to all of the other parents about why my husband couldn't take two hours out of his week to support his child.
I switched my cell phone to vibrate as the lights went down, and didn't even check to see who my missed call was from. I watched January through August recite their poems with occasional assistance from a very visible stagehand with a loud whisper.
I thought about calling my husband during the brief intermission but decided to let him stew, thinking he'd be spending the night on the couch. Beside me, a well dressed woman had an argument with her husband. He stood up and kissed her on the cheek.
"I'm sorry darlin," he told her, "but you know this is a 24 hour job." His elaborate cowboy boot crushed my toe on his way out of the row we were sitting in and he apologized. with a gentle southern drawl.
"No problem," I told him with a warm smile.
As fall began, I felt a sudden tremor on my right leg. October's mother shook her head and gave me a stern look as I reached for my cell. The screen read: Jimmy's Cell.
I figured he was calling to say he'd just gotten out of work, but even if he was halfway to the school, he'd never make it in time for "December". I shut off my phone and shoved it back into my purse, just in time to see November dance off the side of the stage.
I brought out my digital camera along with all the other moms and took pictures as Jimmy Jr recited his poem without any help from the stagehand. I thought about how Jim would have grabbed my hand at that moment as if to say, "look at our son go."
My phone vibrated again during the finale, "The most wonderful time of the year." Jimmy's cell again. I picked it up and whispered, "I'll call you right back," without listening for a response.
Jimmy Jr came out to greet me still wearing his mistletoe hat and elf shoes. I got a hug, a kiss and a, "Can we go to Round Table Pizza with the other kids?"
"I'm sorry sweetie, but we need to get home so I can talk to your daddy," I told him.
He sighed, "okayyyyyy...."
Jim's car wasn't in front of the house. I told Jimmy Jr that he must have gone by the school to see if the show was still going on, but I didn't believe my words for a second. There were three messages on the machine, but all that was on the other end was a dial tone.
I remembered my cell phone. Three missed calls. Two from Jim and one from a restricted number. I checked the first voice mail message.
"Honey, don't worry, but... There was an accident. I'm at Hidgecrest and Falcon Ave, well...to the right of that. I'm going to be fine, but I need you to get here... " He hadn't hung up the phone at that point, but all that followed those words had too much static to make out.
I ignored the other two messages for the time being and grabbed my car keys. The neighbor's were out of town and my parent's lived forty five minutes away. With no other option, I grabbed Jimmy Jr's gameboy and told him that we were going on an errand. He asked me if we were going to see daddy, but I remained silent and buckled him into the backseat.
I parked my trailblazer at the intersection of Hidgecrest and Falcon. There was no firetruck. No debris on the road. I wondered if I'd gotten the intersection wrong. No. This was where Jim had specified.
I told Jimmy Jr to stay in the car and keep the door locked until I got back. He said, "ok mommy," without looking up from Mario Bros.
I was parked on the south side of the street which was lined with houses. I looked in both directions and ran across to the north which overlooked Falcon Crest, the highest point in the city. I stood on the edge and looked out into the distance. I could see the glow of the streetlights and miles of greenery, but nothing out of the ordinary. I turned towards my car and saw Jimmy Jr glowing with the light of his gameboy. I turned back to the cliff and this time spotted a piece of police tape sticking out of a bush. I went to pull it out and found out that it was the end of a long piece. Down in the ravine, beyond the greenery, I could see the red flashing lights of the ambulance. I shut my eyes and opened them again, but the lights were still there. I couldn't get down the ravine from that point, and I didn't know where there was an entrance to drive my car into. I sat down on the sidewalk to collect my thoughts and noticed the light of my cell phone flashing through my linen purse. Then I remembered the two messages I hadn't checked.
The first was from Jim. "I love you, Diana. I'm so sorry about tonight. I meant it when I said I'd do better. I love you more than anything." He'd whispered in a solemn tone.
My glimmer of hope ended when I checked the final message. The restricted number.
"Mrs. Ross. Sgt Gerald Tucker here from the state P.D. Ma'am, I'm sorry to inform you that.." I closed my flipphone, almost as a reflex. Then I redialed my answering service. I didn't need to hear the rest of that message, I just wanted to hear my husband's voice one last time. Unless we were counting the time I would play it for the investigator who called me darlin.
uggg i need a title too....
"Title Goes Here"
He had the ability to piss me off like no one else. He left his dirty socks on the floor beside the laundry basket. He went to the store to bring me margarine and came back with everything but. He strolled in the door every night and plopped down in front of the TV... but never before stopping to give me a kiss and ask how my day had been. No matter how many little things he did wrong, everyone knew that his biggest flaw was his love.
I complained about his snoring and how he always left the milk out on the counter. I muttered under my breath when he walked across the freshly shampooed carpet. I protested his weekly investment in the lottery even though I knew he only wanted the money to build me a lakeside home just like the one I'd grown up in.
"Someday," he promised me. "Someday we'll get out of the city and live life the way it was meant to be lived. Just you, me and the kids. No more of these night meetings or cancelled vacations."
The time he spent on his career didn't seem like a big sacrifice on paper, but felt like a lifetime when paired with raising a mini version of him. Jimmy Jr would sit and watch him at his drafting table, sketching what everyone knew would be the next trend in modern architecture. Then, as always, my pride would be drowned in a sea of phone calls.
"Jimbo. We love the new building. You've gotta get out to Sacramento by Thursday to show your prints to the mayor." Or, "Jimmy! President Shinh Cho loves your new design, pack your bags, we're spending the weekend in China."
His absence didn't make things easy, but we got by. He'd come home from his business trips and we'd go about our lives for another month. At the beginning of our marriage, I'd prayed for his success, but as we came upon our seventh year, I began to see my mother's point in wanting me to marry an executive. Still, we got by.
Jim's career was at it's peak. I couldn't have been more proud, but I could have been more supportive. Our son knew that daddy only missed his soccer games and Karate tournaments because he was busy supporting his family, so why couldn't I? This wasn't Jim's complaint for me, it was my own. When I raised my concerns, he would simply wrap his hands around my clenched fists and bring them up to his lips for a kiss, promising that the busy lifestyle was temporary.
I tried to believe him. On the surface I was his picture perfect wife: cooking the meals, keeping the house and supporting him in whatever he decided to take on. Inside, I was struggling to keep everything together: office work at the elementary school, our son and preparing for the new addition to our family.
I didn't want to tell him until I found out the sex of the baby. He would have supported me either way, but I knew he'd always dreamt of having a little girl. Once I knew for sure, I planned a special evening where I could share the news with him. Romatic candlelit dinner for two under the stars at our favorite Italian restaurant. My cell rang as the valet took my car.
"Sweetie, I'm really sorry. Max just booked me on a weekend trip to San Jose to see about some property. I..."
"Just go," I told him.
He apologized and I knew that he meant it.
I decided the news could wait until the next week.
"What were you going to tell me?" He asked.
"We'll talk about it over dessert next week- at Giavanni's. We can go after Jimmy Jr's play."
He told me he wouldn't miss it for the world... I was always amazed at how often I always lost to the world. When he called to tell me he was running late and might miss our son's school play, I told him I'd had it. He tried to apologize. "I'm gonna do better honey," he told me. After seven years, he was going to try to start being on time for events that were planned months in advance. Or finally work on one of his equally annoying habits. It wasn't enough for me, and I told him so. I hung up on him for the first time, and fed his supper to our yellow lab.
Jimmy Jr asked if daddy was coming to his play, and I told him he had an important meeting and would do his best to get out in time. In the school auditorium, I laid my purse on the seat beside me in case my husband had finally gotten his priorities straight. It wasn't that he was going to miss seeing our six year old playing December in the acclaimed hit, "The Months of the Year." It wasn't even the fact that I'd have to make excuses to all of the other parents about why my husband couldn't take two hours out of his week to support his child.
I switched my cell phone to vibrate as the lights went down, and didn't even check to see who my missed call was from. I watched January through August recite their poems with occasional assistance from a very visible stagehand with a loud whisper.
I thought about calling my husband during the brief intermission but decided to let him stew, thinking he'd be spending the night on the couch. Beside me, a well dressed woman had an argument with her husband. He stood up and kissed her on the cheek.
"I'm sorry darlin," he told her, "but you know this is a 24 hour job." His elaborate cowboy boot crushed my toe on his way out of the row we were sitting in and he apologized. with a gentle southern drawl.
"No problem," I told him with a warm smile.
As fall began, I felt a sudden tremor on my right leg. October's mother shook her head and gave me a stern look as I reached for my cell. The screen read: Jimmy's Cell.
I figured he was calling to say he'd just gotten out of work, but even if he was halfway to the school, he'd never make it in time for "December". I shut off my phone and shoved it back into my purse, just in time to see November dance off the side of the stage.
I brought out my digital camera along with all the other moms and took pictures as Jimmy Jr recited his poem without any help from the stagehand. I thought about how Jim would have grabbed my hand at that moment as if to say, "look at our son go."
My phone vibrated again during the finale, "The most wonderful time of the year." Jimmy's cell again. I picked it up and whispered, "I'll call you right back," without listening for a response.
Jimmy Jr came out to greet me still wearing his mistletoe hat and elf shoes. I got a hug, a kiss and a, "Can we go to Round Table Pizza with the other kids?"
"I'm sorry sweetie, but we need to get home so I can talk to your daddy," I told him.
He sighed, "okayyyyyy...."
Jim's car wasn't in front of the house. I told Jimmy Jr that he must have gone by the school to see if the show was still going on, but I didn't believe my words for a second. There were three messages on the machine, but all that was on the other end was a dial tone.
I remembered my cell phone. Three missed calls. Two from Jim and one from a restricted number. I checked the first voice mail message.
"Honey, don't worry, but... There was an accident. I'm at Hidgecrest and Falcon Ave, well...to the right of that. I'm going to be fine, but I need you to get here... " He hadn't hung up the phone at that point, but all that followed those words had too much static to make out.
I ignored the other two messages for the time being and grabbed my car keys. The neighbor's were out of town and my parent's lived forty five minutes away. With no other option, I grabbed Jimmy Jr's gameboy and told him that we were going on an errand. He asked me if we were going to see daddy, but I remained silent and buckled him into the backseat.
I parked my trailblazer at the intersection of Hidgecrest and Falcon. There was no firetruck. No debris on the road. I wondered if I'd gotten the intersection wrong. No. This was where Jim had specified.
I told Jimmy Jr to stay in the car and keep the door locked until I got back. He said, "ok mommy," without looking up from Mario Bros.
I was parked on the south side of the street which was lined with houses. I looked in both directions and ran across to the north which overlooked Falcon Crest, the highest point in the city. I stood on the edge and looked out into the distance. I could see the glow of the streetlights and miles of greenery, but nothing out of the ordinary. I turned towards my car and saw Jimmy Jr glowing with the light of his gameboy. I turned back to the cliff and this time spotted a piece of police tape sticking out of a bush. I went to pull it out and found out that it was the end of a long piece. Down in the ravine, beyond the greenery, I could see the red flashing lights of the ambulance. I shut my eyes and opened them again, but the lights were still there. I couldn't get down the ravine from that point, and I didn't know where there was an entrance to drive my car into. I sat down on the sidewalk to collect my thoughts and noticed the light of my cell phone flashing through my linen purse. Then I remembered the two messages I hadn't checked.
The first was from Jim. "I love you, Diana. I'm so sorry about tonight. I meant it when I said I'd do better. I love you more than anything." He'd whispered in a solemn tone.
My glimmer of hope ended when I checked the final message. The restricted number.
"Mrs. Ross. Sgt Gerald Tucker here from the state P.D. Ma'am, I'm sorry to inform you that.." I closed my flipphone, almost as a reflex. Then I redialed my answering service. I didn't need to hear the rest of that message, I just wanted to hear my husband's voice one last time. Unless we were counting the time I would play it for the investigator who called me darlin.