Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
2014 Prompt Responses - 14. Chapter 14
Tag – The Bunny
Holidays have never interested you and most of the time you forget when they are. This morning you had to be up before dawn for a marathon you were running. As you got outside you spotted a pure white bunny in a vest with a huge basket over one of his paws. What do you do?
It was downright frigid in the predawn hour. I was not a morning person and I grumbled as I went outside to start the car. I stopped dead and stared at the giant white bunny wearing a vest and holding an Easter basket standing beside the car. It was way too early for this shit. “If you’re wearing that, take your own car. I won’t be seen with you.”
Brad sighed. “Oh get a sense of humor, will you? Easter is next week. There will be a ton of people there in costume.”
“Well ‘a ton of people’ doesn’t mean I have to suffer through watching my boyfriend debase himself this way. Seriously, Brad, you look like an idiot.”
“I knew you’d be a dick about it. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I think thirty-five is a bit old to be running around dressed like the goddamn Easter bunny.”
Brad smirked at me. “Think of it as a motivator for you. I bet you’ll beat your personal best time trying to run away from me.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.”
Brad opened his arms up wide. “C’mere and give me a kiss, honey bunny.”
My Grinch heart must have grown a size or two because despite myself, I actually laughed. Brad gathered me in a warm, fuzzy, bunny hug.
“You’re nuts, you know that?” I looked up at him to kiss him, and my heart promptly deflated back to Grinch size. “Are you wearing make-up?”
I tried to push myself away, but Brad held me tight and kissed me. When he pulled back his pink nose and black whiskers were smeared. I wiped my hand across my face and looked at the pink and black smudges all over it. “Oh hell, no!”
I stormed inside as Brad followed me, laughing.
*****
I’ve never been a big fan of holidays. Most of the time I forget when they even are and I certainly don’t celebrate them. I didn’t have the most stellar childhood, so holidays were either forgotten or best forgotten. I met Brad a little over a year ago and he’s the polar opposite of me when it comes to holidays. He loves them and celebrates them all in the grandest way possible. He doesn’t understand my miserliness. Granted, I haven’t tried to explain it to him, either. How do you explain to someone that you hate Santa because your drunkard father, dressed as the Jolly Red Elf, passed out and then puked all over you when you tried to wake him up? Not the best impression for a five year old. If my mom even bothered to buy me Easter candy it was either gone or half-eaten by the time Easter came around thanks to the ‘munchies’.
I grudgingly agreed to drive Brad to the marathon because parking was an absolute bitch. I refused to leave the driveway until he removed his ears, though. I had my limits.
Brad wasn’t kidding about the people in costume. Everywhere I looked there were Easter bunnies, chicks, and girls and guys in pretty dresses wearing Easter bonnets. I truly didn’t understand how these people could possibly be taking running this marathon seriously. I’d run in several marathons and had never experienced anything like this. If I had known, I wouldn’t have signed up.
Brad was right; I did beat my personal best time. By a lot. I guess the key to a good marathon time is being chased by freaks in fuzzy bunny suits. Brad was so proud of me when he found out I decimated my personal best time that he tried to give me a big hug and kiss, forgetting that he was dressed like hell spawn. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on his face when I ducked away from him.
The drive home was silent.
That night, Brad slept on the couch. Actually, he slept on the couch all week. He barely talked to me and shrugged me off any time I tried to communicate with him. I had hurt him very deeply, and it kind of pissed me off. My opinions about holidays and that stupid rabbit outfit had been quite clear.
On Good Friday, Brad went to church and then out for a fish fry with his family. He didn’t invite me. I suppose the invitation was implicit since we had been dating for over a year and lived together, but I didn’t volunteer and he didn’t ask. I wonder what this meant for us. Were holidays, the bane of my existence, going to ruin the best thing that had ever happened to me? I loved Brad and didn’t want to lose him, but this holiday crap just had to stop.
I went for a good, long run and Brad was home when I walked in the door. I went into our bedroom to grab some clothes to change into after I showered and found him packing a suitcase.
“What are you doing?” I frowned.
“I’m spending the weekend at my parents. I’ll be back Sunday night.” He snapped the suitcase closed and brushed past me.
Over the next couple days, I never felt so alone in my life. I went for a long run Easter morning. There was a church on my usual route and I had completely forgotten about it being Sunday morning. Easter Sunday morning, which meant that there were throngs of people milling about, making it very difficult to navigate through them and the cars clogging the street. I dropped to a walk, frowning. A little boy wearing a nice suit smiled up at me.
“Happy Easter, mister!”
The boy’s mother grabbed his hand and pulled him away from me. He waved to me and walked into the church in between his mother and father, holding each of their hands. I stood there staring after them. I watched as the throng of people entered the church. There were mainly families there, dressed in their Easter finery. There were also elderly couples and the occasional young couple. I wondered if this was what Brad and his family looked like at their church this morning.
I stood looking at the church after the last couple had entered, and found myself walking up to the doors, then into the sanctuary. It was full, so I stood at the back. I got more than my share of strange looks from the well-dressed churchgoers.
I didn’t pay much attention to the sermon, but observed the families during the service and felt a pang of longing for something I never had. It was the first time in a very long time that I felt the pain of my neglected upbringing. I don’t think my parents ever set foot in a church. Certainly not with me.
I started to have a better appreciation for Brad’s upbringing, and thought to myself that maybe it was time he knew the reasons for my behavior.
Brad walked in the door at 9:00 that night. A part of me wasn’t expecting him to come back. He put his suitcase in our bedroom, and then walked into the living room. I could see the look of surprise on his face when he saw all the lit candles and the basket of Easter chocolate sitting on the coffee table next to a bouquet of Easter lilies. I walked up to him and pressed a lily against his chest.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” I whispered. “I never meant to hurt you. You mean the world to me and I don’t want to lose you.” I took his hand and led him over to the couch. I sighed and looked the man I loved in the eyes. “Let me tell you about how I spent my holidays when I was growing up…”
- 9
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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