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TWO

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The Discussion

by: Joanna815
Total views: 285
Word Count: 1712






Elizabeth heard laughter coming from the hallway. Her eyes lifted to read the large clock on the wall above her desk. 4:58 pm. Two minutes to go. Elizabeth fingers flew across the keyboard. Just a few more sentences and she will be finish with her report. The phone rang. Frowning, Elizabeth automatically reached out for the receiver and picked it up.
“Good afternoon, Parker and Bowles Association, Elizabeth Tritt speaking, May I help you?”
“Beth?”
“Mom?” Elizabeth’s smile fell hearing her mother’s low, shaky voice.
“Beth honey, it’s your father.” Mary Tritt sobbed.
“What’s happened?” she said. “Is dad ok?”
“He’s gone, Beth,” Mary Tritt sobbed. “He’s left us.”
“What!” Beth yelled. “Is he….” Beth closed her eyes, placing a shaking hand on her heart. Her heartbeat raced underneath her hand as images of traffic accidents, muggings carjacking gone horribly wrong. Images you see on the news all the time, but never thought happen to someone in your family. She felt her whole body grow warm, as tears began to sting her eyes.
“How did it happen?” Beth whispered.
“What?” No Beth,” her mother chided. “The bum just drove off with his mistress and left me again.”
Beth blinked twice. A sudden rush of relief and confusion washed over her.
“What?” she said. ”Mom, what are you talking about, again?” Just how many times has dad left you?
“This is the third time.”
“What! Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“You were on vacation with your friends,” she answered.” I didn’t want to worry you dear.”
Beth sighed.
“Ok, then why didn’t you tell me when I came back?”
“No point,” she said. ”You’re father had returned and we reconciled.”
Silence.
“Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth took a breath aware she had to keep herself calm to get more information.
“Ok, so why did dad leave this time?” She asked.
“I don’t want to say on the phone.” Mary Tritt answered. “Someone may be listening.” Come over.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Her mother always worried that somewhere someone was listening, whether it be the government or just a nosy somebody curious to know the family Tritt’s business to plot against us.
“Mom, I promise no one is listening.”
“You don’t know that,” she answered. “Where are you?”
“I’m at work.” Elizabeth’s eyes lifted again to read the clock above her. 4:59.
“Your still at work?”
“Yes, I’ll be there soon.” Elizabeth replaced the receiver. She couldn’t believe it! Her father never showed any signs of a mid-life crisis except when he insisted on buying the cool blonde hummer last summer when he turned fifty-five. Her mother joked that the cool blonde hummer was dad’s twenty-year old mistress. She waited as the machine hummed into action to save her twelve-page report. Turning off her computer properly, she collected her black leather handbag from under her desk and went in the direction of the bank of elevators.
Elizabeth Tritt stepped up onto the Tritt’s welcome mat, the tall bold letters in yellow staring up at her. She lifted her hand to knock on the door and out came Mary Tritt in the doorway her perfectly coiffed hair in place wearing tanned slacks, a bright red sleeveless blouse.
“Beth.” She said, hugging her tightly against her.
She wrapped her arms around her mother’s slender body letting her mother cry on her shoulder.
“Mmmmph, mmmmph.” Mary mumbled.
“What?”
Mary Tritt lifted her head. Her tear stained eyes looked red and bloated.
“I said,” she said. “I’m just so glad you came.”
Elizabeth wrapped her arm around her mother’s slim waist as they entered the house.
“Now, tell me what happened?” Elizabeth said.
“Oh, Beth I am so miserable.” Mary Tritt said. She nodded and closed the door behind them. Both walked into the kitchen, just renovated last month and sat down at the kitchen’s round table.
Elizabeth took the time to look around at the newly remodeled kitchen as she waited for her mother’s sobs to subside. It was modern design with blue and white under tones, large counter space with a bone white under counter microwave. Her mother’s pig statues stared out blankly out at her from strategic places around the kitchen.
“I don’t know what to do?” Mary Tritt’s voice cracked as she looked up from the crumbled tissue. She reached out and took her hand.
“Did dad say anything before, leaving?”
“Only that he couldn’t stand it anymore.” Mary Tritt said.
“Couldn’t stand what?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged.
“Well, did you and dad have a fight?”
Her mother stared at her. Her thin eyebrows knitted together angrily. A look Elizabeth knew since childhood.
“Please Beth,” she answered. “You’re father and I do not have fights we have discussions.”
“Ok, then,” Elizabeth answered. “Did you have a discussion with dad before he left?”
“He wanted to take separate vacations.” Mary Tritt sighed.
“What?”
“He wanted me to visit your uncle in Florida for a week.”
“And where would he go?”
“Las Vegas!” Mary Tritt answered.
Elizabeth frowned.
“Since when has dad been interested in gambling?”
“I blame all those celebrity poker shows,” Mary growled. “He can’t get enough of them.”
“But, with what money?”
“He’s using our retirement money.” Mary Tritt sighed.
“Did he say when he was coming back?”
“No, he didn’t say anything.”
A silence fell between them. Elizabeth’s cell phone chirped breaking the silence.
“It’s dad.” She said looking at the phone’s screen.
“I don’t care.” She shrugged, lifting her nose in the air and turned her face away.
She frowned at the ringing phone in her hand and looked up.
“What do you want me to say?” She asked.
Her mother shrugged.
“Tell him to not come back,” Mary Tritt answered. “Do you want coffee?” She rose up from her chair and went to prepare the coffee.
“Yes, thanks mom.” Elizabeth said, punching in the talk button.
“She says not to come back.” She repeated, into the phone.
“Tell your mother, I don’t want to come back!” He yelled. “She smothers me not letting me do anything I want to.”
“He said, he doesn’t want to come back.” Elizabeth told her mother.
Her mother shrugged as she scooped the rich dark grains into the filter.
“What did your mother say?” her father asked.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and sighed. How did she end up in the middle of this?
“She didn’t say anything,” she answered. “She only shrugged at me.”
“You see what I have to deal with, Beth!” Her father screamed. “She’s like this all the time.” I can’t live with that woman.
“Dad, why don’t you just come back?”
“No! I’m free!” he yelled. “I have no ties.”
“What about mom?”
“What about your mother?” He asked.
“You’re going to just throw away thirty-six years of marriage over an argument about vacation?” Elizabeth asked her voice rising. She looked over her shoulder at her mother as the coffee machine began to percolate, releasing the rich, bitter smell of brewed coffee.
“No, of course not,” her father answered. “I love your mother.” I just want her to let me be free to do the things I want to do.”
She covered the bottom half of her cell phone with her hand and looked over her shoulder.
“He says he still loves you and will come back if you let him do the things he wants to do sometimes.” Elizabeth told her mother.
Mary’s back relaxed and she sighed. She spun on her heel and reached her hand out.
“Give me the damn phone,” She demanded taking the phone from Elizabeth.
Elizabeth surrendered the phone to her mother and stepped back.
“That goes both ways! You won’t let me do things too you know, “ she answered. “You are always telling me I can’t do this and that.” Elizabeth watched as her mother quietly listened to her father’s answer. She turned to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. A small smile played across her full lips. Another of her parents “Discussions” was thwarted once again, for the time being.

The End. 2005





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About the Author

My name is Joanna E. Lopez I have written short stories and articles published on online. You can find them here WWW.Writeronline.com as well as WWW.assciatedcontent.com and WWW.finetuning.com. I have loved to write since I was a little girl. I currently work as a freelance writer, Web content, academic Research writer. And I hope to get know people in this group through our individual writings.


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