Harold's key turned in the lock of his peaceful home, the familiar squeak of the door announcing his arrival. He wasn’t expected company, especially not Marvel. They'd been married for thirty-eight years but lived in separate houses for the last five—an arrangement that suited them both just fine.
Marvel sat comfortably on his recliner, flipping through a magazine. She looked up, her reading glasses sliding down her nose. "Oh wow, you look a mess from donating blood," she remarked, taking in his scruffy appearance.
Harold's collar was turned up, and he looked like he'd been through a war zone. He stuttered, getting his words out. "Yeah, their air conditioner went out, and the air in the truck just wasn't getting the job done."
He staggered toward the kitchen, avoiding her attention. "Can you fix me a big glass of ice water? I'm all dried out," Harold requested, sounding out of breath.
Marvel followed him, arms crossed. "Are you sure you went and donated blood? Just asking."
Harold turned to her, with an irritating look on his face. "That's why you be at your house and I be over here at mine."
Just then, Marvel's phone rang. She looked at the screen and answered with a smile.
"Hey Mrs. Charlotte, how you this afternoon?"
"I'm fine, girl. You at home? I was going to stop by, I was in your area," Mrs. Charlotte asked.
"No, I'm over here at Harold's," Marvel responded, eyeing her husband as he gulped down his water like he’s dehydrated.
"Oh yeah? That’s where you at. I wish I could've turned the block 10 seconds earlier the other day so I could've ran over his bulldog face ass at his mailbox," Mrs. Charlotte said with a laugh.
"Be nice, you on speaker phone," Marvel warned.
"I got you on speaker phone," she repeated louder.
Charlotte's voice filled the kitchen. "I don't care! Ain't nobody worried about that old gobble gobble turkey neck but you."
Harold, who had been staggering toward his bedroom, burst out, "I still don't see what my brother see in you!"
"He see something you ain't gone see," Charlotte fired back.
"I bet it’s all wrinkled up now anyway." Harold jokingly replied.
Marvel shouts out Harold you should be ashamed of yourself saying stuff like that. Pressing mute on her phone "Hey, that was a good one," Marvel told Harold while he walking in his room and turned around and rolled his eyes but smiling despite what was said.
To be continued...