Middle Ageish by Shirley Goldberg

Author:Shirley Goldberg [Goldberg, Shirley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Divorced; friendship; satire; starting over; reinventing yourself; internet dating; Mid-life makeover; happy ending; happy ever after; romance; litera
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2020-07-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Detective-ing…

Lunch at the computer while I completed the second application for a long-term substitute teaching job. I chomped on a pumpernickel bagel smeared with hummus and two slices of Lorraine low-fat cheese, an apple on the side. A few seeds splattered onto the keyboard as I leaned closer, scanning as the messages loaded. Nope, not a single response, and I’d been filling out forms—eleven to be exact—for over two weeks. I consulted the list, divided by district, the type of opening, and the date the application closed. At this point, I’d take anything. Except math, I wasn’t a math person.

Not going to work was plain weird. In fact, it felt wrong, as if an essential part of my life were missing. Little errands and tasks like finding ten turquoise plates and six charcoal mugs on the deep sale table at IKEA were one thing. Plus a set of flatware with a squared-off, abstract design that I loved because it reminded me of my own life. But no, I wasn’t fooling myself, chores were no replacement for a job.

As the emails finished loading I flicked my eyes over them, deleting the junk as I went, careful not to overlook any responses to my applications. Nope, nothing on the job front.

Crap. Two emails from Frank stared at me, sent two seconds apart. Three days since our little talk, and I’d thought I was Frank-free. I clicked and scanned. Yup, identical. I had a feeling about these emails and whatever was flinging itself around in my stomach told me it wasn’t the greatest of feelings.

For a moment, I considered deleting them. Just like that. Presto-Clicko.

Impossible. They pleaded to be read.

From: Frank

To: Sunny

Re: Conversation

Yesterday when you called I was in the middle of an important project that was due early next week so perhaps I was not myself.

Your tone was one I seldom if ever tolerate in another human being and I would like to state that I was not pleased. I consider myself to be a warm person, a person concerned with others’ feelings and I generally choose to consort with like persons. It was a shock to discover that particular side of you.

Upon reflection, I do recall, albeit piecemeal, our conversation concerning your birthday. I have a vague recollection of this discussion having taken place in bed. That is probably why I had such a memory block.

I consider bed to be a place of refuge, and not the venue to talk about a subject that is fretful. It is unfortunate that you think otherwise.

In conclusion, I reiterate that I do not seek to negate your feelings, nor to invalidate them. I hope that you find what you are seeking.

Regards,

Frank

“I consider bed to be a place of refuge,” I said in a squeaky mouse voice. Then in a deeper tone with rounded edges, as the one and only Bullwinkle, “I can reiterate that I do not seek to invalidate your feelings.” I’ll admit, I stuck Frank’s email in a folder marked History, a reminder to never consort with such a like person again.

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