God is a Woman in a Rice Field - Chapter 2

by ©dianegreen

Summertime (section) - Acrylic on Canvas - by © diane green 2005

Chicago 1998

Once upon a lifetime weary came a drizzling descendent looking leery with a hip hop rapping on the Raven’s old query. But we let him in anyway. Antagonism from the past can slice you open like a sweet potato pancake dripping with the darkest sorghum secrets you really don’t prefer. Ravens rattle cages. Breakfast rockets champions. 

Abby had made it clear that Jazz O’Bannion had to pack his belongings and hoist them out into his new squeeze’s bonus featured car with a quickness. He showed up.

It was Sunday evening; she was tired and had to get the kids tucked in for another cold winter’s nap. Or at least she was hoping for something like that. Instead, the dining room was throbbing with chaos. There were the two dogs barking, running in circles, chasing the two kids running in wider circles around their dad, who had arrived behind the wheel of his latest girlfriend’s Chevy. It was hypnotizing.

Not really. It was agonizing. Abby crafted references to Jazz’s impeccable iniquity as a Cheater’s World Record to which he replied, “Never!” And “I only talked and drank with that other woman!” Aside from all the other revulsions of marriage, Abby never cried “Rape…” either. So, it goes.

“Spare me,” Abby mumbled, as Rain Beaux giggled jumping on her dad’s back and the manic Dalmatian edged over the dining room table in search of leftover tidbits.

Suddenly, Abby heard something over all the madness. It was laughter. A ghost of backdoor slamming idiosyncratic lightning taking liberties of entertainment from her lost battle landmark. Looking across the room, Abby saw her 3-year-old son standing next to the 1990s landline phone he had ingeniously answered and placed on speaker mode. She walked over and looked down at the caller ID. It was Gabriel Bookholder.

Abby’s heart stopped. She knew that name. She knew she’d seen that face somewhere.

“Hello?”

“Hey Abby! This is Gabe Bookholder. Gyp told me you were in the market for a guitar”

“Oh, right” Abby fumbled for words. Heart jerk ticking desperately like an overwound clock that was about to burst.

“This isn’t a good time,” Abby unraveled.

“I can hear that!” Gabe chuckled.

“Maybe come over next Sunday, like… later after 10…so the kids will be already asleep.”

“Sounds good! I’ll see you then.”

Click.

Abby stared into a punched-out hole in the wall across the room. She knew the guy, alright. She’d had a crush on him for years, but with the hard facts that she was already married with kids to raise plus running her own business, she had given that idea a big "Never Mind" many moons ago.

Not too difficult. Abby had experienced a multitude of "Never Minds" as well as "Sorry, wrong number" relationships over her nearly 3 decades of dating interactions. She thought she was done with affairs, at least the heart throb kind.

But things were about to change yet again.