What do you mean you have no idea what the devil you're doing at my blog? Surely you're here to read the next installation of my Brenda and Howard series! If you have no bloody clue who Brenda or Howard is, do yourself a favor and read the beginning of the series here. If you want to read the part 1 to this part 2, by all means click this sweet fucker.
So for those of you who have been on board since Howard killed Brenda (that was a misdirect for the new readers), I've tweaked the last entry's last paragraph a wee bit. Nothing too crazy, but you may want to catch up as I have in my neglect to thoroughly edit that last paragraph. Here is photograph of your smug blogger to make up for it.
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| Iron Man all day. |
Enjoy the blog!
Hermia
Meet Brenda Part 2
Relief. That was all
Brenda felt when Howard pulled into the driveway. She resisted the urge to call him all day as
anticipation gnawed at her gut. Around
six her resolve broke and she phoned his office. His secretary told her that he had left the
office a bit early, vomited in the a.m. she said. This was no comfort. Concern polluted Brenda's anticipation, but
didn't dim it. However as the light
faded, worry and night darkened her mood.
Although they had discussed ad nauseam to stop her birth
control months ago, the actualization of their dreams would certain require
adjustment. She hadn't slept the evening
before save for semi-conscious tossing and turning as light began to silhouette
the curtains. After hours of
contemplation she decided to break the news coyly by making the mundane into a
miraculous message
We are indeed pregnant! was the original words. The indeed
was cut to curb theatricality. The we
are joined in a conjunction that cut the message to two succinct words.
We're pregnant
She had covertly scrawled the words while Howard showered
that morning. Brenda knew that Howard
would appreciate the execution. Well,
had Howard not fallen ill so suddenly, he would have appreciated it, schemed
all day as he does to execute a wonderfully romantic dinner with lots of
wine.
By eight o' six on the fast kitchen clock, Brenda realized
either one of two things occurred:
Howard got into an automotive accident and was occupied, or Howard was
stubborn stupid and went to his spin class in spite of his early cookie
tossage.
Her relief eclipsed her excitement when her arms were able
to verify her husband was in one piece, albeit severely pale and clammy. Poor
love. Brenda voiced the obvious from
years of caring for sick Howards--he hadn't even looked at lunch, as even the
sight of food would have risen a wave of nausea. Thus, she thought to herself, he still
doesn't know.
The game is on.
Brenda had yet another opportunity to sharpen her coyness to
tell Howard the news. She smiled
secretly to herself after nudging her naked husband into the shower. News could wait, Brenda resolved to
reschedule the talk until after his recuperation.
First, soup.
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