Flash stories collection - 2. You said what?

“You expect me to believe that?”

Wow, the shrill tone that Tod’s voice took when he got mad was overwhelming. In the past he’d reached pitches that’d shattered some of the glassware at the bar. This was close to that unforgettable sound.

Of course I had to reply to it; there was no other option. It was a challenge, and I am always up for a challenge.

So, with my nerves steeled, my feet planted firmly in place, and my arms tightly crossed across my chest, I nodded and locked eyes with the man who’d been my partner for five years.

“You’re damn right I do!” Was my response to this shrieking match. My volume could match his anytime, but the stemware just shook when I spoke.

His green eyes narrowed, then widened, and his pale face blushed, then cooled. It was like watching a cartoon. I waited breathlessly for the steam to start coming out of his ears. I didn’t like seeing him angry, but sometimes I couldn’t control the urge to burst into laughter at how absurd he looked.

Finally, those mauve lips parted and he was going to speak again. I really, truly hoped this would be at a normal volume instead of the entire county being able to hear it this time.

“I…” he began, but his stance crumpled as he apparently was absorbing what I’d been trying to tell him for the past hour. His head cocked to the side, his light hair spilled over to one side. I’ve always loved his hair; it was long and thick, just like something else on his body that I loved to play with also. But I wasn’t thinking about that so much as I concentrated on his hair.

“You what, Tod?” I asked again, my tone was far softer this time. Dammit, I hated fighting with him and this one had seemed to go round and round all morning. It was long past the moment to end this battle for good.

His eyes blinked and he swiped at his face. “I can’t believe you mean it.”

Oh but I did mean it. Wholeheartedly and with every cell and strand of DNA in my body did I mean it.

Deflated at last, I felt I could approach him and put a hand on his shoulder. I wasn’t even tense about it this time. The confidence of my actions and words coursed through my veins like a river. The truth was what needed to be said, and I had said it. Now it looked like he was accepting it.

Tod found his voice again. “You really want me to move away with you to Ireland?”

Relieved he finally heard me and knew my intention was burden-lifting to say the least. I squeezed his shoulder and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Yes. I do, Tod. I want us to go to Ireland, move in together in some old pub and live by the ocean. I want everyone to know that Tod Thompson is my man and that nothing and no one will tear him away from his man.”

My voice shook now, out of conviction, not fear. Tod was my man, and I was his. His family had been horrible to us ever since we’d gotten together and I’d finally finished school and hatched a plan to get away from them permanently. To say it’d been tough was something of an enormous understatement.

Those green eyes mellowed now, rounder, softer, and they glistened with unshed tears. Finally, that handsome face bore a smile that lit up the cloudy day. He understood at last that we’d be free.

“Dave… we’ll be away from them? For good?” he sounded so thrilled it made me want to cry.

“Yes, baby. All of them. They can go fuck themselves and their narrow minds. We’ll be drinking beer every night and making love in the shamrock fields. No more of their blarney!” I cheered.

Tod didn’t speak another word, he just hung onto me and I to him.