This is a story written for my birthday by my husband:|
I Am Not In Love With Kathleen Kelly
Joe Fox was lonely. There was no doubt in his mind that breaking up with Patricia was the right thing to do. Still, he was lonely. Besides that, he kept thinking about her. Kathleen Kelly, that is. That bothered him. She was officially his enemy. She had called the TV station and they had done a We-hate-Joe-Fox special, with Kathleen Kelly orchestrating the whole thing. She had accused him of lying which was simply not true. He was evasive, maybe, but not lying. He even went so far as to rescue her from an angry mob, well, an unhappy checkout line anyway. When he found her without any cash he willing offered to give her some. When she would not take that, he used his ready charm to get the cashier to accept the credit card, on a “cash only” line, no less. Did she show any gratitude? None whatever. Why did his undisciplined heart not simply dismiss her and move on?
That is the thing about hearts. They are as unruly as waves in New York harbor in a storm. He and his Fox III boat had learn about that often enough.
He would find someone else; that is what he would do. There were plenty of good looking and bright women in New York. That was one think New York had, plenty of women. Many of them were full of liberal politics, of course. But he has learned that the I-would-never-date-a-Republican ones would drop that façade in a minute if some wealthy and charming Republican paid a little attention to them.
The thought gave him no pleasure. He was lonely and he was bored. It was Saturday in the springtime. Lovers were walking down the sidewalk, smelling the blossoms, stopping for coffee, and, generally, doing all those things that lovers do.
He could go to the office and work, of course. That usually made him feel good. Today, however, he did not feel like doing that.
Darn! Why couldn’t he quit thinking about her. Maybe it was guilt at having put her out of business. Sure. That must be it.
Nah. He put a lot of book stores out of business. That was progress. Does anyone mourn the passing of the buggy whip business? Of course not.
Why her? Sure, she had beautiful blue eyes and a beautiful, well everything. But, then, Patricia was beautiful too, as far as that goes.
He walked slowly back to the boat. He turned his laptop on and began to reread her email messages.
Trouble is, cutesy letters were not enough anymore. He wanted see her and, heaven forbid, hold her in his arms.
But that would never be. He was Fox Books and she was Shop Around the Corner.