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Darrin barely made it through the door before he tossed his bag onto the table. His boots rang through the house as he made his way to the kitchen. Mitch waited, listening for the sound he was expecting. The soft whoosh of a beer bottle being opened. He put aside the paperwork he was dealing with. Nothing was going to be done until they worked out whatever had Darrin so pissed off.
He made his way to the kitchen, his sock covered feet making no noise, but when he rounded the corner, Darrin was waiting.
“Fine. Say it. Tell me what a dumb mother fucker I am. Dense as a box of rocks.”
“Before I jump in the middle of this argument you’re having with yourself, why don’t you tell me what happened,” Mitch said.
Darrin drew back, acting as if he was about to throw the bottle across the room in frustration. Mitch stepped close, planted a kiss on Darrin’s cheek and slipped the bottle from his hand. “Okay, calm down. They can’t have fired you, not with tenure.”
Darrin’s jaw clenched and he jerked open the refrigerator door, studying the content for a minute or so. He grabbed the makings for a sandwich and tossed them on the counter. Grabbing a loaf of bread, he snatched a knife from the rack above the counter. At that point, Mitch took over.
“Here, give me the knife. I’ll make you a sandwich, and both of us will still have all our body parts.”
For a minute Mitch wasn’t sure that Darrin wouldn’t throw the knife. He knew Darrin wouldn’t throw it at him, but he wasn’t going to be surprised if it wasn’t sailing across the counter in a second. The tension was growing until Darrin let out a long sigh and then lay the knife on the table with an audible click. But his jaw was still clenching and unclenching as Mitch made them both a sandwich.
Mitch spread the last of the mustard over the bread and cut them on the diagonal. Next he pulled the jar of pickle spears from the fridge and fished out one for each of them. He placed one on the counter beside Darrin and then picked up one of his halves and took a bite.
Darrin reached down and tapped the plate with his fingernail and looked up from the distinctive sound. “Plastic?”
Mitch shrugged. “Easier to clean up.”
Darrin gave out a little snort. “I suppose I deserve that.”
Mitch shrugged and kept silent.
Darrin picked up the sandwich Mitch had made for him and bit into it. He relaxed a little, tasting some of the special ingredients Mitch used. He finished half of the sandwich and he glanced up with a cockeyed smile. “I’m bad enough that I got the special sandwich?” He considered for a moment. “Yeah, I suppose I did come in like an F-five tornado.”
Mitch nodded in agreement. “Yeah. The house would have been matchsticks if you’d been a twister. You ready to tell me what happened that’s got you all worked up?”
Darrin’s face darkened again and he shook his head. “Not until after I finish the rest of this wonderful sandwich, and the pickle, so I can explain it without bursting into flames.”
Mitch motioned to Darrin and hopped onto the counter to sit. They watched each other in quiet as Darrin slowly finished the meal. Eventually Darrin tossed the last bite of pickle into his mouth and was chewing it slowly. Mitch waited patiently until he swallowed the last bite before asking again.
“So, what happened today?”
Darrin twisted his face in disgust. “I got tossed under the bus, and by some of the people who were telling me I should be in charge.”
“The assholes blamed me for stuff that I hadn’t even touched. They make me crazy.”
“They haven’t voted yet. You can still change your mind.”
Darrin’s face turned bright red and he let out a snort that would have made their herd bull proud. “Oh hell no! They stirred up all this shit. I’m not going to just quietly step aside. They’re going to have to suck it up and actually vote.”
“And if they don’t vote for you?”
“God help ‘em. Cause I’m going to be pissed,” Darrin said, his face still deep red.
Mitch jumped from the counter, walked over, and kissed Darrin. “Good man. Now change clothes. I need you to help me move the heifers around.”
Darrin lifted an eyebrow at Mitch. “You think this will take my mind off the crap at work?”
“Nope, but I think you’re not going to get out of helping me just because you’re pissed off at the assholes you work with.” Mitch smirked a little. “You were the one who made your choice.”
Darrin stomped off to their bedroom, but Mitch could tell the disaster was sidelined. At least for now.
If you’d like to see a snippet from the other Wednesday Briefs authors you can go to the groups website. Or click on the name listed below to go directly to the story.
- Taylin Clavelli
- Carol Pedroso
- Ravon Silvius
- Jon Keys
- Cia Nordwell
- Nephy Hart
- Mann Ramblings
- Louise Lyons
- Jim Dunaway
- Julie Lynn Hayes