This choice: Catch up with her story later that night. • Go Back...Chapter #6Catch up with her story later that night. by: symbiote   That evening, as Rosie was balancing her checkbook, her husband quietly came through the door. He crept up behind her in an attempt to startle her, which he found rather successful, for when he reached out and tickled her sides from behind: she screamed in fright; stood up so abruptly she banged her knees on the table and toppled over the chair; and her hands flailed wildly, sending her bank statements all over the room, When she turned to face him, she was ready to fight.
Before she had a chance to swing, he thrust a big white package into her arms, shouting, "Happy Anniversary, hun!"
She swallowed back her anger-fueled-by-fear, glared at him in the way that meant 'you're not off the hook, yet', and then looked down at the package. It was a large cardboard box with a white lid. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it just as fast. Finally, she smiled slowly, giggled a little, and said, "Our anniversary isn't for another six weeks, Al."
He nodded, shrugging his shoulders, "I know, but when I saw it I couldn't resist. George's wife thought it would be cute, too."
"Cute? Why am I afraid to ask?" she responded, shaking the box gently. It made no noise whatsoever.
"Just open it, Rosie. Seriously." Al said as he picked up her discarded chair.
She regarded him again for a few seconds, then pulled the tape from one edge of the box. Inside was a pale pink hoodie sweatshirt, which she pulled out carefully to inspect. On the back side was their last name, “Cheques”, under which was the words 'Team Cheeks' (he was known around the District as 'Fonzie Cheeks' and she as 'Rosie Cheeks'). Beneath that was the logo for Fire District 77. On the front side, in big puffy letters, was the phrase:
“My Hubby Knows
How to Handle His Hose”
Rosie gave the sweatshirt a halfhearted sneer, looking up at him with, “Really? This for our anniversary?”
He looked genuinely hurt at her disapproval, replying, “I thought you'd like it. It's funny!”
”Where would I wear this, Al?” Rosie held it up as if it were a piece of trash, “Where could I go in polite company and wear this?”
”Well, the Fireman's Challenge is coming up... but I'll take it back if you want me to.” He looked crestfallen.
She sensed his crushed spirit and relented, “No, I... I'll wear it to your thing. But don't expect me to wear it anywhere else.”
He flashed a smile at her, “It's 100% cotton. That's the traditional gift for the second anniversary, you know.”
She looked at him with a perplexed, almost laughing look, “I didn't know that, that's so...” she fought to find the right word.
He offered, “Thoughtful? Kind? Sweet?”
She couldn't help but laugh, “Gay. That's so gay, Al. What straight man knows this stuff?”
He pouted, ”Angelica told me. And she said this would be a great gift.”
”See, now there's your problem,” Rosie began, ”Angelica... isn't she the one who got that cut on her forehead last year...”
He completed her thought, ”...smashing a beer can, yeah that's her.”
She laughed again, “There you go. Next time, don't take girly advice from a girl more manly than you.”
He pulled her close to him, this gentle abuse/play getting to him, “That's not fair. She's a good girl...”
Rosie kissed him on the nose, “...who carried more than you did in the Deadman Carry event in last year's Fireman's Challenge. And carried you over her shoulder in the Fireman Relay.”
”Rosie, she weighs almost 300 pounds- it just made more sense to do it that way. Jeez, I'd have gotten a hernia if we did it the way the other Districts did!” Now he was getting defensive.
She hugged him close, putting her head on his chest, “I'm just playing with you, hun. Thank you for the gift. Really, I mean it.”
He hugged her back, “Well...”
There was an almost awkward pause, until she answered, “Well... what?”
He kissed the top of her head, then made eye contact, “Well, what did you get me?”
She punched him in the arm, “Our anniversary isn't for another six weeks!” He flexed his muscle just at the right time, causing her to go wide eyed and poke at his bicep.
”So? That doesn't mean anything,” he said, “what'd you get?”
She shook her head at him, “Nothing yet! Really, Alphonse?”
He held his position, “Liar.” It was issued as a challenge, and her initial response was to pinch him in the butt. She was about to argue with him on the subject, when he added, “What's that package over there on your portfolio stuff?”
She had completely forgotten about the crazy man in the Purple Store and his crazy gift when she got home- she put it down and hadn't thought about it since. In fact, it wasn't until she turned to see that she realized what he was talking about. “Oh. That. Some weird guy gave it to me today.”
This did not sit well with Al, “Some guy walks up to you on the street and gives you a gift, and you take it?”
”No, I kinda went into his Junk Shop. Cute old guy, in that 'crazy, eclectic' sort of way. He poked me in the boob.” She blinked a few times after this, as if she wasn't expecting to say that last part.
”This man assaulted you?!” was Al's reaction, grabbing Rosie's arms as if moving to protect her from some predator.
She shook her head, “No, not like that. He was just a confused old foreign guy. Babbled on about emotion, action, and that sort of stuff. But he thought he'd offended me, so he gave me that. Open it if you want- I don't care.”
He walked over and picked it up, “Wow, it's heavy,” he started, weighing it with his hands. He tapped the shiny purple box on the table, which confirmed that there was something hard inside. “Rosemary, you shouldn't take things from strangers,” he said to her in an almost father/child tone.
Rosie raise both eyebrows at him, then snapped to attention and said, in her best 'cute little kid' voice, “Yeth thir, Mithter Fireman, thir!” She blinked her big beautiful brown eyes at him playfully. In response, he shook his head and tore open the package.
Inside the plastic-like wrapping paper (of some unknown-but-manmade substance) was an ornate wooden case about six inches tall, twelve wide, and not quite an inch thick. It was ornately carved and stained to a deep, rich burgandy, with a big 'P' as the centerpiece. Rosie gawked a little when she saw it- it was the same style and theme as the door of “Papa Petrovna's”, and the workmanship of the case alone was probably worth $500 or more.
”Some guy just gave you this?” Al asked with a serious tone.
”I had no idea what it was.” she replied. But now she was curious to know more, “What it is, I mean.”
Undaunted, Al repositioned his grip and opened the case with both hands. Rosie tried to lean in to see what was inside, but Al pulled away. His eyes got big, and an uneasy confusion played across his face- now Rosie had to know what he was looking at!  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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