Just a Couple of Guys and a Gal

The following is a short story, “flash fiction” if you will, I wrote last summer at the Iowa Summer Writing Festival. Hope it’s a brief diversion on a cold winter’s day.

 

John, a tidy man in his 40’s, is sipping wine while chopping veggies for dinner at the kitchen island.  Jake, a straggled, over-heated man in his early thirties, sits across from John on a stool, drinking a beer.

 

John:

Jake, you know we agreed we’d use that money for the wine and cooking classes tour of Italy.

 

Jake:

Yeah, but…

 

John:

I hate it when you ‘Yeah, but’, me.

 

Jake:

Lately you seem to hate everything I do. I think you hate HER.

 

John:

I do not. It’s just time to let her go.

 

Jake:

Let her go? Let her go?

 

John:

Stop repeating yourself. You know how I hate that.

 

Jake:

I can’t say anything any more without you saying you hate it. Or her.

 

John:

I don’t hate her. She’s had a very good life. She was very beautiful. But she’s become a black hole--sucking your time and our money.

 

 

 

 

Jake:

She has not. You know I love her. And I don’t mind the time or money.

 

John:

You should be spending more of your time with me.

 

Jake:

I do spend time with you.

 

John:

Not like you used to. Every night it’s the same old thing. You sneak off…

 

Jake:

I do not sneak. You know where I’m going.

 

John:

You sneak. And you lie.

 

Jake:

That’s really unfair.

 

John:

You say you’ll only be a few minutes. An hour at most. Then hours later come crawling back home, all sweaty. And smelling of her.

 

Jake:

Well, I enjoy my time with her. And the time gets away from me.

 

John:

But the real thing is the money. That $10,000 is for our wine and cooking tour. You KNOW that.

 

Jake:

That's just what you’ve always said. I never agreed.

 

John:

Yes—you did.

 

Jake:

I did not. And besides, after the new carburetor and rods and rear end, you know—you’ll enjoy riding in her as much as I do.