Shrimp Fork

He grabbed the shrimp fork and drove it into the table with a force even he didn’t expect. It stuck, vibrating briefly before it became motionless. He looked up into her startled countenance and glared with fire in his eyes.

‘You’re what?’ he cried.

‘Not here, Stan. Not in front of all these people,’ she said almost disinterestedly, her face stony with indignation.

She said it more for him based on others’ shocked glances. There was still a part of her that wanted to save him the embarrassment of making an ass of himself in a public place.

Stan didn’t hear her. He simply stared, though not at her. He traveled instead to the moment when his sister explained to him that their mother had died suddenly of a heart attack. It was the same sensation. He had no air to fill his lungs, no moisture in his mouth; he wondered only if there was a next moment.

‘I wondered if I should even try to explain. I thought I’d be honest as I always said I would.’ Her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper.

His head snapped back to attention, and he thrust his face forward. He eyed her as if she were an alien. ‘And you brought me out to a public place? After 25 years?’ He paused and leaned back in his chair. His salt and pepper hair moved like a wave, kept together with generous amounts of mousse. ‘This is what you do when you fire people, isn’t it?’ His neck rolled to the right and down so he could see her face. ‘It is what you do.’ A chuckle escaped from his lips. ‘You’re not even laying me off; you’re firing me.’

She chuckled too. It wasn’t from nerves, and it wasn’t because she thought it was particularly funny. (He never had been particularly funny.) It was because he was right. Her demeanor changed; she seemed to grow more comfortable, almost jovial. She still kept her voice just above a whisper. ‘Yes, Stan. That’s exactly what I’m doing. You’ve hit the nail on the head. You’re both inefficient and ineffective. There’s no synergy, no chemistry, no electricity. You bore me. You have no ambition. And, what’s more, you’re bored with me. You have your porn. You even have that bimbo on the side you see from time to time.’

His head jerked, and his eyes went wide.

‘C’mon, Stan, I’m the smarter of the two of us. If I didn’t know for a fact – because Ms. Tanya is in the same yoga class I am and confessed it to me after you’d pissed her off a while back – I’d know because of women’s intuition. You suck at lying.’ She was on a roll, as if she were managing a meeting with a bunch of opinionated loudmouths.

Before she could get out another word, the waitress returned to the table and gleefully asked, ‘Dessert?’ She glanced at each in turn, oblivious to the fact that anything of import could be happening. ‘We have strawberry shortcake, chocolate cake, key lime pie…’

Stan turned his weary eyes to her, ‘I don’t think we’re interested.’

The waitress grimaced, mostly because she didn’t get a chance to show them that she had memorized the desserts. She walked away before she could think to ask them if they wanted coffee or tea.

‘Stan, look, it’s better for you, and it’s better for me. It’s a win-win. You can continue with your World of Warcraft and Michelob Ultra – by the way, I think it’s ridiculous that you think Michelob Ultra is going to help you lose weight. And I’ll learn to live without you. I did it for a while before I met you. I think I can manage again.’

The waitress returned, still grimacing, and dropped the check holder on the table. She began to clean the table and accidentally knocked a half glass of water into Stan’s lap.

‘Looks like your glass just went from half full to empty,’ his wife remarked. ‘Since I know you’re not having the best day, I’ll get the check.’

She opened the holder to find a note that read, ‘To the woman I love on the 25th anniversary of the first day we met.’

She closed the holder and looked him in the eyes. ‘Today, huh?’

‘Yep,’ he replied.

She stood and skirted the table gracefully. She leaned in and kissed him on his lips. ‘Thanks for remembering,’ she purred, her voice dripping with sarcasm, ‘but it was 25 years too long.’