story: Postmodern Love

Postmodern Love

by Guy Hogan - www.flashfictionnow.blogspot.com

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Frank Conti drove, enjoying how the car handled on the long stretches of nearly empty Pennsylvania highway. It was an old, used car but from a good dealer and it gave him no problems. Another person's old car can be big problems, but he'd been lucky and had been driving nearly half an hour before realizing Vivian Thompson hadn't said a word. He looked over at her. She sat looking away, out at an endless empty field with hills behind it and then blue-gray mountains far beyond the hills. The field was completely empty. No animals. No crops. No grass. Just dry dirt. Frank patted Vivian's thigh. She turned her face to him and smiled. She didn't want to talk. She didn't want to talk all the way back into Pittsburgh. They'd been visiting Frank's best friends. The friends were young with a new baby, giddily happy in their marriage. Viv was wearing shorts and a sleeveless blouse. Frank drove through the light traffic in the city and parked in front of her apartment building. As they sat in the car the sun was setting. Viv was fifteen years older than Frank.

"Frank, do you mind if we call it a day?"

"Did I say or do something wrong?"

"I just want to do a few things around the apartment."

"Can't you do them with me there?"

"I need some time to myself"

"I was hoping to spend the night."

"Frank."

"All right," he said. "May I use the bathroom?"

She sat holding her shoulder bag in her lap with both hands.

Inside, after turning on the air conditioning, she sat on the couch and pulled off her sandals. He stood near the couch with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Maybe he should have worn slacks. No, she was dressed casual, too. She put her feet up on the low table. She put her head back and closed her eyes. Frank sat beside her.

"Viv, what's wrong?"

"I don't know. I don't know what's wrong."

"Aren't you feeling well?"

"It's so hot. I've never known it to be this hot."

He watched her. He looked at her hair. He looked at her face. He looked at her arms, legs, ankles and feet. He leaned down and kissed the place where the pulse beat in her throat.

"Oh, stop it!"

She got up, went to the door and unlocked it. She stood holding open the door.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I want you to go."

"What's wrong?"

"Just go."

"Why won't you talk to me?"

"Frank."

"Talk to me."

"Frank, please."

"All right," he said. "All right then."

"Frank?"

"Yeah."

"I liked your friends."

"We grew up together. We were kids together."

"When will I see you again?"

"I don't know."

"Call me?"

"We'll see."

Several days later Frank took Viv out to dinner. Afterward, they walked holding hands like the young couples out that night in a nice residential neighborhood near the campus of CMU. A warm breeze blew. The full moon hung in the star speckled black sky. Families sat out on their front porches.

Frank said, "Let's get a place together."

"We've been all through this."

"It doesn't make sense renting two places."

"I like my privacy."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Just what it says."

They walked through a pool of light from a streetlamp. Just ahead, a young couple got out of a car parked at the curb, locked it and went into a nearby home. Frank and Viv walked past a church.

Frank said, "You lived with Ted."

"Ted was my husband and God knows I need another husband like I need a hole in the head."

The homes in this neighborhood sat behind neat lawns. The air was full of the smell of freshly mowed grass.

Viv said, "What brought this on?"

"I went down to the river today. I just sat and thought about things down by the river."

"What things?"

"Things in general."

"But what things?"

"You know," he said. "Just things."

"Well, let's leave things the way they are."

Still holding hands, they strolled on.

She said, "You want out?"

"No," he said.

"Are you positive?"

"I'm sure," he said.

"You let me know."

"I'll let you know," he said.

"Don't cheat on me," she said.

He said, "I'll let you know."

Just then the streetlamp ahead of them blinked out.

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bio: Previous publications are Pittsburgh Quarterly, Chick Flicks, Word Riot and the book Compressionism: The Pittsburgh Stories (self-published at www.iUniverse.com).