Brenda and Howard: Labor Day

Note to the Reader:  I hadn't realized that the next installation of the Brenda and Howard series has just been sitting in my blog folder waiting to be edited. Huzzah!  I have done just that.  If I had my way and in an alternate reality where I was a writer of sorts, I'd frame the Brenda and Howard series to track the entire pregnancy of Brenda.  As it stands, I decided to skip ahead.

If you haven't read the previous Brenda and Howard bits here are the links.

1.  Pabst Blue Ribbon and Smiling Mustard

2.  Meet Brenda Part 1

3.  Meet Brenda Part 2

4.  I hear you breathing when you sleep

Labor Day

There were enough mylar balloons at Brenda and Howard's baby shower to stock a clown convention.  None of them were blue or pink.  Brenda had decided that she didn't want to find out the gender of the baby.  She didn't want to fill the soon-to-be nursery with a gender polarized color scheme.  The wrapping paper that protruded from the recycling bin at Howard's in-laws were all neutral yellows, greens, and purples. 

As Howard walked the bin to the curb, he sighed in relief that the shower was long over and that they had one more night left with Brenda's family.  The trees that lined the sidewalk were clinging to the vibrancy of summer, but the creeping hands of autumn leeched out the green.  The leaves weren't quite crunchy yet, but the chill of Labor Day evening was enough to raise the hairs on Howard's arm. 

The close proximity to Brenda's parents brought on another chill.

Upon their arrival days earlier, it seemed that her father was finally able to put away his disproval of Howard.  Despite Howard's success as an attorney, and his well-dressed, well-mannered ways, her father radiated a subtle dislike or irritability toward Howard.  The man's lips always pinched into a severe line of neutrality whenever Howard was around.  The severity of line deepened when Howard and he were alone.  This hidden-apparent disdain made Howard pucker for fear that this man could see through him.  Howard feared that Brenda's father knew that their relationship was a bullshit farce for a man too chicken shit to out himself.  The man's own stoic attitude toward his own marriage brought on Howard's suspicions. 

That could be me in a few decades. 

However, when he saw Howard flit around like a nervous hummingbird at Brenda's beck and call, the tension between the two men eased.  The subversively irate nature with which he addressed Howard appeared to have dissipated.  The noose Howard felt around his neck finally loosened.

Luckily enough, Brenda's mother begged off from joining the expecting couple for dinner.  Naturally, her father followed suit.  The excuse to do the whole visiting not visiting thing relieved a knot between Howard's shoulder blades.  It was bad enough pantomiming a romantic relationship with Brenda without an audience.  They left on foot into town for dinner.

"Just like when we first started dating."

"Hrm?" Howard was lost in his own thoughts when Brenda broke the comfortable silence.

"We used to walk everywhere when we started going out."  She smiled up at him as she said this.  Reflexively he smiled and wrapped his arm around her.

"Well, I couldn't help but want to show you off," Howard admonished.  It was the damned truth.  He hid his frown behind her as he shrugged out of his coat and draped it over her shoulders.  Howard did this without prompting thinking as he had on all the walks to the dates they had in that town.

It's what boyfriends do.

***

They had dinner at a diner.  Red vinyl booths and that greasy spoon smell filled the place.  Brenda's cheeks were blushed from the cold and pregnant vitality.  A grin split her face when a kid ran over to pop quarters into the archaic juke box by the bar, where it had always been since she started going there.  This was where Howard first took her out to dinner.  This was where Howard first kissed her.  This was the diner where Howard proposed and where she promptly choked on Coke and gurgled yes.

"Don't you-" her question was cut off by an angry buzzing in Howard's coat pocket.

He held out his hand to have her pass the phone.

"Don't I?..."  His eyes were for the phone's screen, but hers were trained on his face. 

"Don't you remember all of the memories we have here?"

"Of course, darling."  His fingers moved deftly over the tiny screen, texting. Howard threw a radiant smile her way. 

Brenda rubbed her foot leisurely on Howard's calf.  Her lips curved lovingly as he worked on his phone.  She understood that his job was demanding in regard to the constant communication with clients and coworkers. 

Absentminded you may be, Mr. Howard, I adore you.

Unbeknownst to Brenda, Howard was managing his affair.  Ten texts into the baby shower earlier made him decide to end things with SPIN CLASS. 

By the time his unsweetened ice tea and her Sprite came, the torrid affair was ended.