Margot loved to dance. Rodney tried to learn when they first met. He took lessons and would eagerly get out there on the floor with this graceful creature, never understanding what she saw in him.
That made two of them.
Well, not quite. After escaping a turbulent, abusive relationship with a charismatic prick, Margot found Rodney to be rock solid, deferential, and easy to talk to — mostly because he never said much.
It was their anniversary weekend, fifteen years, and Margot had long since given up on going dancing with her clutz of a husband. He used to insist that they go every Saturday but inevitably he’d stumble and step on her foot or trip her. The only way to talk him out of this weekly torture was to take up league bowling which was kind of like dancing…only different. It worked, though, Rodney loved bowling and Margot didn’t hate it.
She made reservations for dinner at Lupica’s. Her sister was going to come over and stay with Mitzy, their high-strung Corgi. Brenda was a doll for doing that. Margot was hosting her book club this week — they were finally finishing “Eat, Love, Pray” and not a day too soon — and made a note to buy flowers from Brenda’s flower shop.
“Hey, dollface! I have a surprise for you!” This text from Rodney appeared on Margot’s phone. Shit.
She decided this didn’t require an immediate response and went to shower.
Eight texts and two voice mails were there when she finished her shower but Margot ignored them for now. It was ok, Rodney never got mad. If anything, he’d apologize later for being annoying.
Margot was extremely particular about things. She had a particular outfit selected with particular accessories and even a particular scent. The shoes she had found were the perfect match if uncomfortable. If she couldn’t go dancing for her anniversary at least she’d look fabulous. Making her way back out to the kitchen, Margot saw her phone lighting up.
“Darling, stop already! The definition of surprise is that you don’t tell me what it is. Our reservation is for 8 so you’d better get home and get ready.” Why on earth was there a truck idling out front?
At 7:30 he still wasn’t home. And now he wasn’t picking up his phone. Grinding her teeth, Margot paced. The truck had finally driven off. It registered that Phil and Tracy across the street were staring stupidly at something Margot couldn’t see.
Margot was almost to the front door when her phone finally buzzed. Another fucking text. “Go out front for your surprise! And happy anniversary, baby!”
What does a woman like Margot want for her fifteenth wedding anniversary? Here’s for sure what she does not want: a lawn filled with pink plastic flamingos. Forty of them. Forty fucking pink plastic flamingos and one stupidly grinning man holding out a massive bouquet of long-stemmed red roses.
Think they’ll make sixteen years?
© Remington Write 2020. All Rights Reserved.
Read AleXander Hirka’s version here:
In August 2020, AleXander Hirka set himself the challenge of creating a daily digital collage based on an image and a concept. The image is that of the antique Omega watch that belonged to his Mom and the concept is Time. In September 2020, the Anomalous Duo is challenging themselves to write a short piece of fiction for each collage — the Our Hours project.