Healing through story

Tag: Jack and Diane (Page 1 of 2)

shortfiction24 – estranged no more

Jack spends a few days at Diane’s house recovering from prostate removal surgery. An unexpected visitor brings possible healing to a long-estranged family member.

This is #8 in the ongoing Jack and Diane series of stories, which originated in November of 2021. As I have said before, I have no plan, no story arc, for the series. Each story has arisen from the prior ones, the characters not willing to fade away.

You can read the first seven stories here.

Estranged No More

Bob Gillen

Diane Somers idled her old Volvo 142S in front of the hospital entrance. She slid out of her seat as a hospital volunteer pushed Jack Marin’s wheelchair out to the curb. 

Jack managed to stand on his own, hang onto the door, and slide into the Volvo. A few curse words ensued. Diane thanked the volunteer, got Jack’s seatbelt secured, and climbed in. 

“Ready?” she asked Jack.

“So ready. Wait, do I need to tip the volunteer?”

Diane grinned. “Not necessary.”

Jack squirmed to adjust himself in his seat. “My doc had said two or three days in here after the surgery. It took five days for them to release me.”

“It was a big surgery,” Diane said. “You were on the table for five hours.”

“Yeah. They had some job removing my monster prostate.”

“Your doctor said it was thirty five grams.”

“More like twenty pounds, I think.”

Diane laughed. “Let’s get you home.”

Jack enjoyed seeing the familiar sights as they drove to Diane’s house. He squinted into the bright sun and moved the sun visor down. A piece of paper fell into his lap. He reached for it. A photo. “This looks like you with your husband and Margaret.”

“Wait till we stop for a red light and I’ll take a look.”

At the next light she glanced at the photo. “Yeah. Me and Frank, and Margaret.Frank must have put it there.”

“I’ve only been to your place a few times,” Jack said. “I don’t think I saw any pictures of your family.”

Diane sighed. “I have one picture in my bedroom. Our wedding picture. I like to think about beginnings, not endings.”

“Nothing in between?” Jack asked.

“I put all the photos away when Margaret alienated herself from me.”

Diane pointed. “Put the photo back in the visor.”

As the traffic light changed, she said, “I set you up in the spare bedroom…and cleared the couch. You should be comfortable for a few days till you get your strength back.”

She backed into the driveway to position the passenger side near the front door. Jack pulled himself out of the seat and stood holding onto the door. Diane came around and supported him.

“Let’s try the couch for a while,” Jack said. “I could use a dose of TV.”

Diane got him settled on the couch, set a blanket over him, and tucked a pillow behind his head.

“How about a sandwich?” she asked. “A turkey club?”

“Sounds good. Washed down with a beer?”

She handed him the TV remote and headed to the kitchen.

Jack rested his head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. “I could sure use a shower but I think I should wait till tomorrow.”

“No worries,” Diane called from the kitchen. “I’ve got room deodorizer.”

“Funny.”

Diane came in with a luscious sandwich and a sweet pickle slice on a plate, a cold longneck in her other hand. 

“This looks great,” he said. He reached for the bottle and took a long swig, a smile breaking across his face.

“Beats hospital meals, I hope.”

“It does, but you know, their food wasn’t that bad. A turkey dinner one night, meatloaf and mashed potatoes another night. Not bad at all.”

Jack devoured the sandwich. “How about another beer?”

“Let’s take it easy,” she said. “You’re still on meds. Why don’t you take a nap?”

Jack nodded, leaned back, and promptly fell asleep.

The following morning, after a breakfast of bacon and eggs in bed, a home health physical therapist named Molly showed up to assess Jack’s condition and start him on some core-building exercises.

“I know you’d rather stay in bed, but we need to re-build your strength after the surgery. Are you in any pain?”

“My lower back hurts,” Jack said.

“We can work on that.” Molly put Jack through a series of PT exercises while he was lying down.

“Now let’s get you up to a standing position.”

Diane handed her a walker she had rented for Jack till he got stronger.

Jack tried to sit up and swing his legs off the bed.

“Oh…oh, sweet Jesus!” he cried. “I can’t do this.”

Molly stepped forward with the walker. “Hold on to this, roll your legs off the bed, pull yourself up.”

Jack grimaced, cursed. On the third try he got to a sitting position on the side of the bed.

“Can you stand?”

Gripping the walker, Jack hoisted himself to an upright position. “Standing is easier.”

Molly helped Jack walk through the living room and into the kitchen.

Standing against the counter, she had him move up on his toes, then back on his heels, ten times.

“I want you to do this twice a day,” she said. “And I’ll leave you with a page of exercises to do. I’ll be back in two days.”

“This isn’t too bad,” Jack said. “It’s the getting out of bed that hurts like hell.”

“That will get easier as you build your core.”

Later that afternoon, after a nap, Jack watched TV from the couch. Diane brought him a cold beer. She sat, leaned gently against him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Pretty shitty, overall.”

He sipped the beer. “I think I need to go to the bathroom.”

Diane had stocked the guest bathroom with adult disposable underpants. Jack dragged himself to the bathroom. He struggled to get his pants off and change the paper underpants. “Taking these big-kid underpants on and off is a real pain,” he called out.

Diane cracked the door, handed him a package. “I also bought you men’s pads. You can change them without taking your pants off.”

“Brilliant,” he said.

“We girls been down this road before.”

Later, at dinner, Jack devoured chicken tacos, rice and beans. “You’re spoiling me. I won’t be able to do this when I get back to my own house.”

Jack lowered his head into his hands. He sighed deeply. “This isn’t how I pictured my life going.”

“It is what it is,” Diane said. She rubbed his shoulder.

“Lying in the hospital bed all I could think of was how fucked up my life is now. After my wife died, I mourned for a year, then found a routine. It wasn’t much, but it worked for me. Now…that’s all in the wind. I can’t travel any distance because of the incontinence. I can barely get out of bed. Instead of walking, I’m teeter tottering. I could never pass a DUI test.”

Diane smiled. “Relax. It’s only been a week. You’ll get there.”

She got up and cleared away the dinner dishes. “How about watching a movie?”

Jack smirked. “If I can stay awake…”

The following morning Jack pushed himself to get up from his bed and use the walker to move to the kitchen table. Diane stood at the stove in her robe, flipping buttermilk pancakes. 

Jack poured a mug of coffee and sat at the table. “You are clearly spoiling me.”

“It feels good to have someone else in the house. I’ll feel lonely when you go back to your own place.” She set a plate of pancakes in front of Jack. “Syrup’s there if you want it.”

The doorbell rang.

“Huh.” Diane said. “Who could that be?”

“Expecting any packages?”

Diane shook her head as she stepped to the door.

A woman stood in the door, backlit by the morning sun.

Diane peered at the figure. “Margaret?”

“Mom.”

Diane stood frozen for a moment. 

“Have you been driving dad’s Volvo?” Margaret pointed to the driveway.

“A mission of mercy.”

“Can I come in?”

Diane stepped aside. “Of course. Forgive my shock.”

Margaret entered the house. She wore jeans, a loose sweater, her hair in a long ponytail.

“Who is it?” Jack called from the kitchen.

Margaret whipped around at Diane. “That’s a man’s voice.”

“Come in and meet Jack.” Diane walked into the kitchen.

Margaret followed her. She stood staring at Jack. A man at her mom’s kitchen table. In his pajamas. Eating breakfast. 

“Jack, this is my daughter Margaret. Margaret, Jack.”

“We’ve met,” Jack said. “At the cemetery last month.”

Margaret said nothing. She glared at Diane.

“Do you want coffee?”

Margaret shook her head.

“How could you?”

“How could I what?” Diane said.

“You kept dad’s terminal sickness from me three years ago. Now you have a guy living in with you and you didn’t tell me.”

Margaret turned, ready to storm out. Jack stood, awkwardly, and reached out to her.

“Please stay,” he said.

Margaret said, her back to Jack, “Why? More lies. She’s replacing my dad already. I’ve had enough.”

Diane flared in anger. She threw a dishtowel down on the table. “Hold on. You chose to stay away from me for these three years. Now you show up out of the blue and begin making judgements on me and Jack.”

“I can see what this is,” Margaret said, turning back to face Diane.

“No,” Jack interrupted. “You’re not seeing what this is.” He grimaced in pain as he moved, and quickly sat down.

“Margaret, I don’t know what brought you here today.” Her anger softened. “But I am thrilled that you’re here. Can you sit and talk with us for a few minutes?”

Margaret glared at both of them, then slowly sat, hanging her purse over the back of the chair. Diane put a cup of coffee in front of her.

Margaret had estranged herself from Diane since her father’s death three years ago. The separation had sat heavily on Diane’s heart, carrying her husband’s loss alone until she met Jack.

Diane spoke. “Let’s clear the air about Jack. He is someone I am seeing. We met on a dating app maybe six months ago. We have both lost spouses. Both retired. Both looking, quite tentatively, to have someone in our lives. Jack is here because he’s recovering from surgery and needs support for a few days till he can go back to his own place.”

Jack leaned on the walker. “I had my prostate removed because of a carcinoma. I was on the table for five hours. Your mom is helping me. I can barely get out of bed. I am fumbling all over the place. And I am now incontinent from the surgery.”

“TMI,” Margaret said, holding a palm up in Jack’s direction.

“Just putting it all out there,” Jack shrugged.

Diane spoke, “We are moving slowly in our relationship. And as to intimacy, that’s none of your business.”

Margaret spoke softly to Jack, “When I saw you at the cemetery with my mom, I figured it was something serious. She wouldn’t bring just anyone to dad’s grave.” 

Diane had taken Jack to Frank’s grave on Margaret’s birthday a month ago. One of the three times each year she visited the grave. Watching from a distance, Margaret had tried to talk to Jack while he strolled around the cemetery. Jack had refused, saying he did not want to get in the middle of the two and their difficult relationship. It was later that Diane had told him, you’re in the middle, or you’re out. Your choice. Jack had chosen to continue his relationship with Diane.

“And speaking of your dad,” Diane said, “it was his decision, not mine, not to tell you how serious his illness was. He didn’t want you suffering through his last weeks. I brought you in only when he said he was ready to see you.”

Margaret began crying. She rubbed away tears. “I could have sat with him in those last weeks.”

Diane also began crying. “We wasted these three years. I could have told you this if you had listened…if you had not stayed away.”

She stood and hugged Margaret’s shoulders. Margaret put a hand on Diane’s arm. “I couldn’t deal…”

“You’re here now.” She pulled Margaret to a standing position and hugged her hard. Both sobbed deeply. 

Jack sipped his coffee. 

After the two women had eased their sobbing, Jack said, “It’s good to see you two together. But the pancakes are getting cold. Margaret, please sit and eat with us.”

Margaret sat, grabbed a couple of napkins to wipe her eyes and nose. Diane reached for another plate.

“But I’m curious,” Jack continued. “What brings you here, Margaret? Why today?”

Margaret smiled, met Diane’s eyes. She set her hands over her belly. “I’m pregnant.”

***

shortfiction24 – rare and aggressive

In story #7 of the Jack and Diane series, they face an unwanted diagnosis.

Another test of their relationship.

Enjoy the story. Previous six stories are here.

Rare and Aggressive

Bob Gillen

Jack Marin pulled his Ford F-150 into Diane Somers’s driveway, behind her Toyota Prius. He turned off the engine, sat in silence. How do I talk about this?

The clock on his dash read 6:30 p.m. An hour since he got his diagnosis. Since he lost something. Something as yet undefined.

Diane came to the door, her face grim. She stood, waiting, giving him space.

Jack slid out of his truck, walked toward her.

“It’s bad?” she said.

He nodded. “Yeah. Bad.”

“Come in.” She held the door for him.

Jack walked to her kitchen table, sat in his usual place, back to the living room. Diane came up next to him, stood there, her arm gently around his shoulder. “Want to talk about it?”

“Do you have coffee?”

Diane poured a cup from the French press. “Just made some.”

He sipped the coffee. “Better than the ‘Bucks, any day,” he said.

Diane sat opposite him.

“I had to wait for a bit. The patient ahead of me was late. Then his assistant ushered me to the doctor’s office. I was never there before. Usually an exam room. I knew…”

She reached across the table and touched his hand.

“He said the biopsy revealed carcinoma on my prostate. The spot he was concerned about after the MRI. He said it’s a rare and aggressive carcinoma.”

Jack sipped his coffee.

“Shit,” Diane said. “What now?”

Jack shrugged. “He wants to remove the whole prostate as soon as possible.”

“Will that get the carcinoma?”

“If I’m lucky.”

Diane frowned.

“If it doesn’t spread…”

“So…we hope for the best.”

“I guess.”

“Any after effects?”

“I’ll be incontinent…at least six to twelve months, maybe longer. I have to wear a paper diaper.”

“Oh.”

“And I will have ED.”

Diane’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yup.”

Jack raised his coffee mug to his lips. 

Diane said, “I ordered pizza. Should be here soon. Are you hungry?”

Jack shook his head. “Don’t think so. Maybe.”

He shrugged. “I knew right away it was bad.”

“We’ll get through it,” she said.

“Your boyfriend, the one with big boy pants and a non-working dick.”

“My boyfriend…stop there. The rest is not important.”

Jack looked up from his coffee mug. “I won’t have much to offer.”

“You’ll be here. That’s what counts.”

The doorbell rang. “Pizza’s here.” She got up to answer the bell.

“Will you feel bad if I eat?” she asked. “I skipped lunch today.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Diane pulled a slice out of the box and grabbed a napkin.

“I feel so bitter,” Jack said.

Diane peered at him over her slice.

“Bitter. My first reaction. Not fear or even anger. Bitter.”

Jack grabbed a napkin and a slice. “Maybe I am hungry.”

“Why bitter?”

“Did I ever tell you this? I pray every night for health. Years ago I listened to the audio tapes of a couple of Pema Chödrön books. You know her? The Buddhist nun?”

“I’ve heard of her. Don’t know her work.”

“She teaches you how to pray, in an expanding kind of way. Pray for yourself first. Then open your prayer to those close to you. If you are comfortable, move your prayer out further to those you may not know. And if you are able to, if you feel the generosity, even pray for your enemies, for those who do you and the world harm.”

Diane nodded.

“It helped me when I lost my wife…Anyway, especially the last few months I have prayed for health. For freedom from illness and malignancy. I have prayed to the spirits of love, to the healing power of the universe. I believe in that. And here I am…a rare and aggressive carcinoma. Not just a malignant cell. Rare.”

Jack set his slice down on the napkin. He lowered his head in his hands. Shook his head. “I’m not ready. I have too much to do yet. It’s not my time.”

Diane said, “Okay then, it’s not your time. Believe that. Hold on to that thought as you go forward.”

Jack looked up, nodded. “Can I stay here tonight? Nothing intimate. Just be with you. I need you.”

Diane’s eyes filled with tears. She got up and came to Jack’s side. “Stay here, of course.”

In the morning Jack woke to the smell of coffee. He rolled out of bed right away, got dressed, headed for the kitchen.

“Good morning.” A cheery greeting from Diane.

“Morning.”

Jack hugged Diane. Hard. Close. “Thank you.”

Diane smiled. “We got this. Don’t know how yet, but we got this.”

Jack sat and sipped his coffee. “Any leftover pizza?”

“In the fridge,” she said.

He got up, put two slices on a paper plate in the microwave.

“I don’t know yet when surgery will be. The doc said within six weeks.”

“Okay.” Diane stirred oatmeal on a small pot, added raisins.

“How long have we known each other?” he asked. “Three months or so?”

“Three months, two weeks, four days.”

“Okay.”

The microwave beeped.

“And we have both been playing this very cautiously. Friendship, with a touch of affection. An occasional PDA.”

Diane nodded. “It’s what we both needed to do.”

“Right. So…six weeks or so and I will never be able to be intimate with you…no matter how slow we want to go.”

“And…”

“I don’t know if I want to be intimate now…before the surgery.”

Diane poured the hot oatmeal into a bowl. “We don’t need to decide that today.”

“No. I mean, if we were intimate now, it would be wonderful, but then we would never be able to do that again.”

“What exactly are we talking about here? You will not be able to have an erection? No orgasm?”

“I think so. The doc was not too specific.”

“But my parts would still work.”

He smiled. “A one way street.”

“One orgasm, two intimate partners.”

Jack waved his hand. “Enough on this. How about we hit the beach later today?”

“I could do that, if you go home to shower and change first. You may be sick, but you’re not throwing in the towel.”

He smiled. “Any more pizza in the fridge?”

Later, on the beach at Point Dume, they walked back and forth along the water’s edge. 

“I like you, Jack Marin.”

“Back atcha, Diane Somers.”

She reached out to hold his hand. “I feel like I might be moving towards loving you. Not sure yet.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

They stood still and listened to the surf crash on the sand.

***

shortfiction24 – puttin’ on the ritz

It’s been a while since I posted any weekly short stories here. Sorry for the gap. Several medical issues cropped up. One has been resolved, another is ongoing but under control. I plan to begin posting again right after the new year begins. Look for more on Jack and Diane, still dating, still struggling to know more about themselves.

Happy New Year. I hope it is a peace-filled, wonder-full time for all of us. See you soon.

shortfiction24 – mi volvo es muy mal

This story marks #6 in the Jack and Diane series. The two met on a 50+ dating app a few months before this story occurs. I did not set out to create a series for these two characters, but they continue to live in my writing mind. Enjoy!

You can read the first five stories here:

Jack and Diane: the Series

Mi Volvo Es Muy Mal

Bob Gillen

Jack Marin parked his Ford F-150 at the curb in front of Diane Somer’s house. The double garage door was open. Her Prius sedan sat in one bay. As Jack walked up, he realized the second car was an old dark blue Volvo, its hood open.

“Hello?” he called.

Diane’s head appeared from under the hood.

“Hi. Right on time.”

Jack nodded. “A very old Volvo.”

“A 142-S. Frank kept it for all these years.”

On the wall facing the Volvo was a faded wooden sign. Mi Volvo es muy mal.

Jack pointed to the sign. 

“Frank got it from an abandoned garage somewhere up north, years back,” Diane said. “The old girl is fading, though. I only use it three times a year.”

“Why three?”

“Visits to the cemetery. His birthday, my birthday…and today, Margaret’s birthday.”

Diane ran a pair of battery cables from the Volvo to her Toyota.

“Can I help?” Jack asked.

“I got this.” She started the Toyota, hopped out and got in the Volvo. In a minute or so the Volvo kicked over. It coughed and sputtered, then smoothed out. She disconnected the cables and turned off her Toyota.

Ten minutes later Diane was driving them to the cemetery in the Volvo. She pulled up under a large tree. Opening the trunk, she took out two faded aluminum beach chairs and placed them at Frank’s grave. Then she set out a small cooler.

“Have a seat,” she said. “There’s water and soda in the cooler, and a few snacks.”

“I’ll wait,” Jack said. He sat.

“I usually stay for an hour or two,” Diane said. “If you get restless, feel free to walk around. And there’s a restroom in the office near the front gate.”

“Good to know.”

“Jack, I appreciate your being here with me.”

“Sure.”

“I sometimes sit in silence. Once in a while I will talk quietly to Frank. Today I’ll introduce you.”

Jack shifted in his chair.

Diane sat upright. She closed her eyes, arms resting in her lap. Jack leaned back, tried to relax. His own wife had been gone for two years now, but he had never once visited her cemetery. 

Diane whispered. “Frank, I drove over in the Volvo today. She’s still running.” She gestured to Jack. “I brought a friend with me today. His name is Jack. You’d like him. We met on a fifty-plus dating app a couple of months ago. Not really dating. More like hanging out together. Developing a friendship.”

Diane drifted back to silence.

Jack looked around the cemetery. Many of the graves had flowers or flags. Several other visitors stood around graves, or sat in the grass. He got up quietly and walked to the road. He walked the perimeter of the cemetery. Near the top was a section for cremated remains, graced by a small fountain. He circled and walked down near the office building.

A white BMW SUV sat in the office parking lot. Jack walked past without a glance. As he went by, a woman’s voice called out. “Sir?”

Jack turned. A woman slipped out of the BMW. “May I ask you a question?”

Jack pointed to himself. “Me?”

The woman nodded. “I’ve been sitting here for a while. Are you with that woman up the road, the one with the old Volvo?”

Jack hesitated.

“Her name is Diane?”

Jack took a step back. Held his palms out. “I don’t know you.”

“No, you don’t. But I was watching you sitting with her.” The woman pointed up the road. “That’s my mother.”

“Oh.”

A hawk screed in the distance. Jack looked up. A half dozen crows were chasing the hawk away from a stand of trees at the edge of the cemetery. The hawk flew calmly away while the crows squawked after it.

He turned his attention back to the woman.

“You must be Margaret.”

The woman leaned back against her car. “I’m guessing my mother told you about me.”

Jack shook his head. “I only know she’s troubled the two of you are not communicating.”

“Today is my birthday.”

“That’s why she’s here.”

Silence hung between them for a few moments.

“She didn’t tell me how sick my dad was…till he was gone.”

Jack nodded.

Margaret took a step toward Jack. “What has she told you about me?”

Jack held his palms up. “Please…don’t put me in the middle. I like your mother. I don’t want to be carrying a secret around. Reach out to her, but don’t pull me in. It’s none of my business.”

A tear slid down Margaret’s cheek. She looked out at Diane up in front of her dad’s grave. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Jack turned to walk away. Margaret slipped back into her car, fired up the engine, and drove off.

Damn! Don’t do this to me. 

Jack walked back up to the grave site. Sat down again without a word.

Diane looked up at Jack. “You were talking to Margaret.”

Shit!

“Yeah. You saw her?”

“I know her car. I spotted it as soon as we got here.”

“This is awkward.”

“What did she say?”

Jack shook his head. “I told her I didn’t want to get in the middle of this.”

Diane stood. “We should get back.” She folded her chair and packed up the cooler.

Jack remained seated. “I don’t belong in the middle of this.”

“Jack, we’ve been seeing each other for several months now. Like it or not, you are in the middle of it. My estrangement from Margaret is part of my life. Jump in the pool, or walk away.”

“Ouch.”

She stood over him. “Your ouch is nothing compared to my pain. You can help me with this, or I will go back to dealing with it alone. Your choice.”

Jack stood, folded his chair, put it in the Volvo.

They drove back to the house in silence. 

Diane nudged the Volvo back into the garage. “Want to come in for coffee?”

Jack shrugged. “This is getting complicated.”

“You’re in or you’re out…in, I hope.”

Jack smiled. “Got any cookies to go with the coffee?”

***

shortfiction24 – the goat movie

What I’m Writing This Week

Jack and Diane are back. Jack reaches out, tries his humor on a distraught Diane. This is the pair’s fifth appearance on shortfiction24. The characters continue to talk to me.

The Goat Movie

Bob Gillen

Tears ran down Diane Somers’s face as she sipped the last of her breakfast coffee. A single photo lay unframed on the kitchen table. A picture of her late husband, Frank, a huge grin spread across his face, poised to blow out birthday candles. Their daughter Margaret sat at his side. A memorable occasion, only six weeks before Frank’s deadly heart attack. 

Diane pushed the photo aside. Three years gone. Frank…and Margaret. Frank dead, Margaret estranged from her mother. 

Her phone chirped. A text from Jack Marin. Want to see a movie tonight?

Diane hesitated, then replied, What’s playing?

A text came back. A star-studded feature: Billy Idol, Billie Eilish, Billie Holiday, Billy Elliot and Billy Porter starring in the barnyard classic ‘What’s Got Your Goat’? 

Diane stared at the phone. What the hell? She dialed Jack, rather than deal with typing on the phone.

“Hi,” Jack said. “The goat movie sound interesting?”

“I don’t get it.”

“Goats? Billy goats?”

She smiled in spite of herself. “Okay. Sorry, you caught me at a bad time.”

“Should I call later?”

“No, no. It’s fine. Did you stay up all night thinking of that?”

“Nope. I have a notebook filled with these. Been writing them for years. Did you ever watch the old Tonight Show with Johnny Carson?”

“Some. He was not a favorite of mine.”

“Yeah…well I always loved his character Art Fern. Remember? Art Fern and the Tea Time Movie?”

“Vaguely.”

“Girl, your education has sadly been lacking.”

“A matter of opinion…boy.”

Jack snorted. “Okay, I’ll drop it for now…but you may hear more where that came from.”

“Save it, Jack.”

“Listen, if you’re not up to a movie, we could spend a few hours at the zoo. I have a friend who works there. I can get free tickets.”

“Probably not…not today, Jack.” Diane reached for a paper napkin as tears began to flow again.

Jack pushed on. “Yeah, okay. My friend’s a vet. Does a lot of work with the LA Zoo.”

A pause while Diane hesitated to react. 

“He treats mostly the elephants. They seem prone to some kind of skin condition.”

“Jack, don’t.”

“Honest. His business card reads, Pachydermatologist.”

Diane moaned. “I see what you did there…and it hurt.”

“Hey, you throw enough on the wall, some of it will stick.”

Diane took a deep breath, dabbed at stray tears. “Was there a real reason you texted?”

“Actually…yeah. Thinking of you and reaching out.”

“Thanks, Jack. That’s nice.”

“How about dinner tonight? I’d offer to cook for you, but I know you’re skittish about moving too fast.”

“Dinner would be great. How about something light? Maybe a sandwich and salad somewhere.”

“Done. Can I pick you up…or would you rather meet there?”

“Let’s meet there. Wherever ‘there’ is.”

“How about that bistro place at the promenade? They make a good sandwich. Lots of outdoor seating too.”

“See you there at six.”

Diane put her phone down. Her gaze returned to Frank’s photo. You’ve been gone for three years now…please help me understand why Margaret refuses to talk to me. She won’t take any calls from me. It’s killing me, Frank. She’s all I have left.

She reached for a Post-It pad from the counter, pulled off a tab and stuck it over Margaret’s face on the photo. This comes off when you call me.

***

shortfiction24 – a new morning

Edward Hopper, Morning Sun, Columbus Museum of Art

In today’s micro story Diane Somers feels relief after returning her berserk cat Zero to the animal shelter. Relief…and emptiness.

More short fiction in the Jack and Diane series. Enjoy.

What I’m Writing Today

Today I’m exploring a lonely moment as Diane sits at home after returning her cat to the shelter. This is #4 in the Jack and Diane series of stories. As I have said before, I did not expect to continue the story line, and I have no plan as to where it is going. The characters interest me. I’ll see where it goes as we proceed.

Catch up on previous stories with Jack and Diane on this blog: A Third Date, The Second Date, Death by Millstone.

A New Morning

Bob Gillen

Diane Somers woke at 7:30 without an alarm. She stretched, slid out from under her covers. The east-facing window filled the room with light. 

Diane smiled. I slept through the night, she told herself. First time in a month. She stepped into her fuzzy slippers, pulled on a well-worn blue chennile robe, and padded to the kitchen. In under ten minutes she had her French-press coffee in hand. She settled in her chair and gazed out at the trees moving in the brisk Santa Ana winds. 

She sighed as she sipped her coffee. 

Sleep was good. After a month of near-sleepless nights she had finally surrendered and returned her cat Zero to the rescue shelter. As a retiree, she had the option of afternoon naps. But nothing replaced a good night’s sleep. Zero had been with her for close to two years. In that time the cat had never once purred or meowed. Never snuggled with Diane in her chair or in bed. The cat did nothing but eat, pee and sleep. Hence the cat’s name. Diane gave zero fucks about him.

But Zero had taken to roaming the house every night for the last month. Running from room to room. Hissing. Knocking books off tables. The last straw, two nights ago he swept her favorite mug off the kitchen table and shattered it. 

The guy at the shelter had accepted Zero back. “Didn’t work for you, huh?” he asked.

“Not your normal cuddly cat.”

The clerk had nodded. “Thanks for trying. Not always a match.”

“Thanks for understanding,” Diane had called out as she left.

She sipped her coffee. A couple of dry leaves scratched across the concrete patio in the wind. For some weird reason, the moving leaves reminded her of the black and white movie with Peter Lorre, where a severed hand crawled around the house causing mayhem and murder. That’s what Zero had been, a hand detached from anything that would give it life, creeping about in the darkness. Diane shuddered. He’s gone now.

After a second cup of coffee, she continued to stare out the window at the wind-blown trees. All the movement was outside. Inside, only stillness. Diane felt alone, empty. Her mind drifted back over the three years since her second husband had died. She lost him quite suddenly of a massive heart attack. And she had lost her only daughter in a maelstrom of anger and bitterness. Margaret had not spoken to Diane since Mark’s death. Diane had still to reason why, exactly. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by sirens from the nearby fire station, as a crew went out on call. Her neighbor’s German shepherd howled. Howled mightily. It always brought a smile to her face. The dog was normally rather stoic, but the sirens gave him voice every time.

The feeling of emptiness fell over her again. She was utterly alone in the house once again. No husband, no connection to her daughter, no cat. Only her.

She returned to the kitchen for more coffee. Zero’s food and water dishes were still on the floor under the counter. She picked them up and tossed them in the trash. That was the last trace of him. Gone.

Diane settled in the chair with a third cup of coffee. She opened her iPad to read emails. On top was the monthly newsletter from one of her favorite mystery authors. As she read the newsletter, she teared up. The author talked about losing her spouse in the previous year. She spoke of herself recovering from a mild bout of Omicron, spoke of the almost two years of pandemic lockdown and restrictions. The author described her current life as a scaled-back life. A scaled-back life, yet nurtured by gratitude and appreciation for what she does have.

A scaled-back life

Diane thought, that’s it exactly. That’s my life. Scaled back. Not the same. Maybe never to be the same again. But clearly scaled back. Full of limitations and restrictions. Filled with absence and emptiness. Tears flowed.

Her phone chirped. She glanced at the screen. Jack. The guy she met on an online dating app for the over-fifty crowd. She let the call go to voicemail. Later, dude. I need some me time right now.

She wiped away her tears, smiled, recalling the day she and Jack had spent in Santa Barbara a few days ago. Appreciation. Gratitude.

Outside a single dry leaf continued to scratch across the patio in the wind. Diane got up, opened the slider, and stepped on the leaf. Crushed it to small pieces. She closed the slider, settled back in her chair.

She reached for the phone. Took a deep breath, hit Jack’s number. 

***

shortfiction24 – a third date

Diane agrees to a third date with Jack, even after he messed up the second one so miserably. Will this 50+ dating app relationship go anywhere? Read on.

To catch up on the first two stories about Jack and Diane, check out the first, Death by Millstone, and the second, The Second Date. I am writing these stories one at a time, with no idea or plan where it will go. The two characters interest me more than I expected them to. Who knows? We’ll find out together.

And now, enjoy their third date, a day trip to Santa Barbara.

A Third Date

Bob Gillen

Jack Marin backed his white Ford F-150 effortlessly into the parking spot half a block from Stearns Wharf in Santa Barbara.

“We’re here,” he whispered to Diane Somers sleeping in the passenger seat. Diane opened her eyes. She took in Jack’s face, turned to see the beach across from the sidewalk.

“That was fast,” she croaked. “Oh, I was really out, huh?”

“Since we got on the 101.”

“Wow. Hardly sleeping for two nights makes a girl sleepy.”

“Take your time waking up,” Jack said. He pressed the slider to open Diane’s window. The cool ocean breeze drifted in.

“Oh that smells good.”

“Never disappoints.”

Diane straightened up, pulled down the visor mirror. “I need a bit of makeup.”

“If you say so. Looks good from where I sit.”

She freshened her lipstick, ran hands through her hair.

“How’d you score a spot so close to the wharf?”

“I lived in New York City for five years. Finding a parking spot is a learned skill.”

“I didn’t know you lived there.”

“Long time ago, after graduation. Before I came back out to LA.”

Jack closed the window. “Let’s head out on the wharf.”

The two walked along the wharf as cars passed back and forth next to them.

“I have to say, Jack, I really hesitated when you called and asked me to come here.”

“Yeah, I really messed up our last date… I’m a shitty listener.”

Credit: CheshireCat.com

“More than that.”

“Yeah?”

“I was flattered you called. But after our second date didn’t go well, I did not want to be miles from home, depending on you to drive me back if it went south again.”

Jack stopped, stepped aside to the railing. “I know I really messed up both dates, but I wanted to see you again so badly. I thought some ocean air and a good dinner would help.”

Diane smiled. “I missed you too. I am still concerned that this won’t work out, but I’m game to try again.”

The passing cars caused the wooden beams of the wharf to clatter as they drove over them. Jack smiled. “Have I told you I’ve done and said some incredibly stupid things in my lifetime. Almost always around a girl.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Jack pointed to the passing cars. “All the clattering of the wharf reminds me…when I was in the eighth grade, I had a girlfriend.”

“Wow, this is ancient history.”

 “Cute.” Jack smiled. “Her name was Patti. One chilly spring day we rode our bikes to the park at the end of our town. A wooden car bridge crossed a large creek near the park. Patti and I, and another couple we were tight with, we climbed up under the bridge, right under where the cars drove across. We heard all of that clattering of the wooden beams. Anyway, we were kissing. It was a nice moment. Secluded under there. The other couple kept on kissing. I kissed Patti for a bit, then said, “Okay, I’m done. We can go now.”

“You didn’t?”

Jack extended his palms in surrender. “I was an idiot. Alone with my girlfriend. And I cut it short. So stupid!”

“Yeah, Jack. That was stupid.”

Seagulls screeched alongside the wharf. Jack shrugged. “Let’s get some ice cream.”

They walked to the end of the wharf. Jack got a vanilla cone, Diane Rocky Road in a cup.

“My friends tease me. Call me plain vanilla. I love the flavor, and I hate bits of stuff in my ice cream.”

Diane waved her index finger. “I won’t offer you a taste of mine.”

They found an empty bench facing out at the harbor. 

“Do you feel rested after sleeping in the car?”

“I do. Thanks. I hope it wasn’t rude of me, but I was so tired.”

“Trouble sleeping?”

“I think aliens have invaded my cat’s brain. He now paces around the house all night.”

“That’s weird.”

“I adopted him two years ago. Hoping for company around the house. They told me his name was Pepper. After a week I started calling him Zero. Still do.”

“Odd name.”

“He sleeps all day. Wakes up to eat and pee. Does not meow or purr. Will not snuggle or let me pet him. So I call him Zero…as in, I give zero fucks about this cat.”

Jack almost dropped his cone. “That’s harsh.”

“After the last two nights, I mean it even more. He’s insane.”

“So, not only is he not good company, he now keeps you awake at night.”

Diane nodded, finished her Rocky Road. She stood to find a trash can. “Let’s walk a bit. I need to stretch my legs.”

They walked back along the wharf to the street, turned towards the harbor where hundreds of boats were docked. Both enjoyed the sea air. Neither felt the need to talk. 

When they reached the end of the sidewalk, Diane said, “I’m hungry. Got any ideas for restaurants?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. There’s a great Italian place up State Street. We can walk there, or get the truck and drive up.”

“I don’t mind walking.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

They walked back along the beach, headed up State Street. The street was still closed to auto traffic, since the beginning of the COVID lockdowns. Bicycles whizzed past, tourists and residents wandered the street. Jack moved to hold Diane’s hand, but a surge of tourists forced them to walk single file. When they reached the restaurant. Jack and Diane got seated in a quiet outdoor section.

Santa Barbara City freshly painted bike lane on State St. and Figueroa St. RAFAEL MALDONADO/NEWS-PRESS

“So, I promised myself I would not dominate the conversation. Tell me something about your last job, Diane. The one you retired from.”

The server brought a plate with a baguette and olive oil with pepper. Diane wolfed down a piece. 

“God, I was hungry.”

Jack placed his napkin on his lap. “This is nice. I can’t remember when I last ate someplace that had cloth napkins.”

Diane laughed. “I hear you.”

“So, tell me about your job…”

Diane said, “I had no plans to retire then, but I couldn’t take the company anymore.”

“They forced you out?”

“In a way. I was in tech sales support, covering retail clients on the west coast. We had some management changes, they reorganized the company structure. Some bright light decided that all sales and sales support people should be based out of Indianapolis. They wanted all of us to relocate.”

“Relocate from LA to Indianapolis?”

“Right?”

The server stepped up. “Any questions about our menu?”

“I think we’re ready to order. Diane?”

“I’ll have the salmon piccata.”

“Excellent choice. And you, sir?”

“Chicken parmesan.”

The server took their menus and walked away.

“I see why your friends tease you.”

“What do you mean?” Jack asked.

“Chicken parm. Doesn’t get any more vanilla than that.”

Jack raised his palms in protest. “I go for what I like.”

Diane smiled. “Whatever.”

“So, back to you. Relo to Indianapolis.”

“Most of our customers were based in the east. The company figured they might as well put all of us nearer to them.”

“With more travel for you, for the west coast.”

“Yeah, plus summer humidity, winter snow and ice, and further away from my daughter.”

“Last time you mentioned you and she were estranged.”

“A topic for another time,” she said.

“Okay. Do you have grandkids?”

“None yet.”

“Yeah, me too…okay, so you quit and took early retirement.”

“Not exactly. I stalled. Finally, they offered me a severance package, and I jumped at it.”

Jack dipped a piece of bread into the olive oil and pepper. “Do you miss the work?”

“I miss the travel. Discovering new cities. Every trip staying in a good hotel. Great restaurants. Spa at night. Most of it on the company dime…and I miss fixing issues for my customers. The best feeling…”

“Yeah, I get that.”

Diane laughed. “One of the best fixes…I would show up at a retail location. Their point of sale equipment was acting erratically. I’d spot right away that they had tied the electrical cables alongside the data cables. Electrical interfered with the data transmission. I would fuss over it for a while, simply separate the cables, and voila, problem fixed. The customers loved me.”

“And here you are, cruising, no worries.”

“Eating a lovely Italian dinner with a man I hardly know yet. Who knew?”

After dinner and coffee, Jack and Diane walked back down State Street to Jack’s truck. 

“Would you be interested in adopting a cat?” Diane asked.

“No way. Animals are okay, but I am not a pet person.”

“I may have to give him up. I can’t live like this. I need my sleep.”

Jack nodded.

“And please, Jack. No suggestions about me spending a night at your place.”

“It never entered my mind.”

Diane turned to him. “Am I not attractive enough?”

Jack laughed. “Between a rock and a hard place… yes, you are attractive. And yes, I am a slow mover. Very slow.”

“Sounds fair,” Diane said. “Just kidding you. I will give up Zero, and then we can take it as it comes.”

“Deal.”

Jack reached over, took Diane’s hand, and kissed it gently. She blinked, smiled.

Jack drove his truck onto the 101 South. He turned on one of his playlists. Art Tatum on the Pablo Group Masterpieces albums. He chose the session with Ben Webster on sax. “Chill. If you need to, take another nap. I’m cool with that.”

“I had coffee, but I may just do that. Walking and ocean air did me in.”

‘Call you when we get to your place.”

Jack smiled, steered south. Said to himself, Look at me, spending a day with Diane and not fucking it up. Go, me.

***

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