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Bud Grossmann’s
Words of the Week
for the Week of
May 25, 2008
Previously unpublished fiction.
© 2008 by Bud Grossmann.
All Rights Reserved.
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Ripples, 1979
© 1979 by Bud Grossmann
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SPILLING BEANS
From: David C. Fischer <d—@juno.com>
To: Maureen Morrison <q—@yahoo.com>
Date: Fri, 23 May 2008 00:07:19 -0500
Subject: Thursday.
Two people brought up your name in conversation today, Mrs. Eric Arnesen and Mrs. Donald Schwerin.
Love, Dave
From: MAUREEN MORRISON <q—@yahoo.com>
To: Dave Fischer <d—@juno.com>
Date: Thu, 22 May 2008 23:48:08 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: Re: Thursday.
DEAR POOP HEAD, That was not a nice teaser!!! Spill the beans...or....Maureen
From: David C. Fischer <d—@juno.com>
To: Maureen Morrison <q—@yahoo.com>
Date: Fri, 23 May 2008 07:24:18 -0500
Subject: I'm sure the truth will disappoint you yet again.
I don't expect you to check your mail in the final minutes of your hospital shift today, Maureen, but here's my quick reply at 7:07AM.
Stephanie saw me at Jimmy Aalborg's building and said, "I hear you're a journalist."
I said, "Where'd you hear that?"
She said, "Maureen Morrison *is* my cousin, you know."
I said, "Yes, I suppose your cousin might think I'm a journalist. I steal Maureen's e-mails all the time and publish them on my Web site."
That was in the morning. In the afternoon, Joyce saw me as I was checking out at Grover's Grocery. She said, "Dave! Thank you for the gift!"
I said "You're very welcome. Congratulations to you and Eric."
She said, "Thank you. That was sweet of you to send those with Maureen. I had no idea you were so talented!"
I said, "Mmh."
She said, "You should have come. The party was open. Nadine or Maureen should have told you you could come."
I said, "Mmh."
Then she spread her arms to offer a hug. My half of the hug was awkward, owing in part to my holding a Bic pen and a credit card in one hand and having juice that had leaked from a well-ripened cantaloupe on my other. My wrist pressed against Joyce's shoulder blade and the substantial strap of her brassiere beneath her starched, white cotton blouse.
I blushed, released her, hurried out the door. I was shamed by a moment of kindness and nothing more.
Well. I better put this in the mail. Good morning, good Maureen.
Love, Dave
♦
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