Table Scrap Talk

Articles

Holly Winter
Living The Life Of Holly

Table Scrap Talk
Apr. 8, 2003

Oh. Sure. The marriage question has come up. Nellie insisted on it.

“You have to ask.” She said.

“Why?”

“Holly. You know that you want to be married one day. What if he never, ever wants to be married again. You need to know that now.”

“But. I don’t want to propose. And. I don’t want to ask. Can’t the marriage question wait untill, I don’t know, down the road?”

“No. You need to be able to ask about real things. Don’t you want to have a real relationship?”

“Ok. I’ll try. How do I ask?”

“You just ask.”

I waited till the end of a very long evening.

“Um. I have a question.” I said, playfully.

“Ok.” He answered, easily.

“But I am not volunteering for the position.” I said, carefully.

“Ok…”

“Do you ever want to get married again?” I asked, holding my breath. I didn’t care about the answer. I hated asking the question. What would he think about the question? I hated the question.

Pause. “Yes. Well. I mean. Not right away. You know. Not in the next year or two.”

Oh. Good answer. Score ten points. Direct. Honest. Off the top. He isn’t trying to trap me into marriage. I relaxed. Hooray. I was completely at ease. This might be one of the first men in my life who isn’t trying to manipulate me into marriage. Wow. What a very huge relief. What a find. Incredible. I felt so lucky. I might be able to date him. Really date him. You know. Let down some walls. I sighed.

He cleared his throat. “How about you?”

“ME?”

“Do you want to get married one day?”

I know. But somehow when he said it I felt TRAPPED. It was wholly unfair.

“Yes.” I squeaked. Oh great. That sounded all wrong. Did I sound a little eager? “I mean one day.” Oh. Now I sound like some kind of bridal magazine page turning dreamer. I am about as far from that as any woman alive. “I mean. You know. After 9/11, I started worrying that if I had died in the towers, that nobody would miss me. Oh. Sure. I mean. My mom and dad would miss me and my dog would miss me. I mean.

Well my dog is kind of mad at me cause she found out when she moved to my sister’s house that there was such a thing as table scraps and she didn’t know about table scraps for the first eleven years of her life and now she has learned about table scraps and so every time she sees me she has that ‘Hey, you never told me about table scraps’ complaint. My sister is feeding her a lot of table scraps and she has gained so much weight. Oh. Sure. She loves her new life there. But, I never let her eat table scraps. Well. I don’t think that she really would have loved eating salad that much, anyway.

Oh. Sure. My friends would miss me. And my family would miss me…” I said, my stream of consciousness fading into the nothingness that it resembled. What was I trying to say?

“I know what you mean.” He said.

Normally when someone asks me about marriage I just say something about someday when I meet someone that I like, then I can think about it. I mean. I like him but I am not saying that I like him enough to marry him. I don’t know him. Ok. I have to tell him that. How in the world do you say that without insulting?

“I like you and I like spending time with you and I don’t know what will happen down the road and I don’t want to think about that I just want to date you and I don’t want to think about down the road I just want to have fun right now.” I blurted out as quickly as I could.

“I understand.” He said.

We were quiet for a few minutes. It was a very awkward quiet. I was mad at Nellie for ever suggestion that we bring it up. I didn’t want real in my relationships if it meant awkward.

He cleared his throat. “So. What brought all this on?”

“You mean the table scrap talk?” I asked, wondering how I had so easily lost focus..

“Yeah. The table scrap talk.” He said.

“Nellie thought that I should bring it up.” I said.

“Why?” He asked.

“She is afraid that I will spend my days floating around happily single, having relationships that never boarder on real.” I said.

“Oh.” He said. He pulled me into a full body hug. “Well how do you think the talk went?”

“Well. I’m not really sure what to do with the information now that I have it.” I said, hugging him back. “Any suggestions?” I giggled, seeing the ridiculousness of the whole conversation. It doesn’t matter what he says or what I say, does it? It only matters that we talk about it. Ok, Nellie. I got it.

“Let’s call Nellie!” He said, reaching for the phone.

“No! We can’t do that.” I said, wrestling his hand away from the phone.

“Yes.!” He insisted. “She must be dying to know how our talk went!”

“It is two o’clock in the morning. She’s sleeping. Don’t worry. I’ll fill her in tomorrow.” I said.

“No. Let’s call her now. Maybe she can’t sleep.” He said, fighting for the phone.

“No. Not a good idea.” I said, remembering he didn’t know her phone number anyway. “I will call her tomorrow and tell her everything.”

“You are going to tell her everything? Have we no secrets?” He asked.

“Yes. We do have some.” I said.

“Really? Name one.” He said, releasing the phone.

“She doesn’t know that you give me your undershirt after each date and that I use it as a night shirt until our next date.” I said.

“Good.” He said. “Maybe I’ll tell her that one myself.”

About the author: Holly Winter is a teacher and a writer and a flight attendant living in Denver, Colorado, USA. She can be reached at her website or email: Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com

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