I have a bit of a breakdown in Safeway #cherrypiecure

posted by susan-oh-susan / march 4 at 4:20 pm / uncategorized / 9 comments / TOC of Susan’s published posts

So.

This crazy thing happened.

This morning.

I was ridiculously stupid, but now I feel…

I should just tell the story in order.

I went to Safeway to pick up my baking supplies. Flour, I had, but I needed coconut flakes and chocolate chips, and also dates and lard, and well, a whole bunch of other things. A lot of eggs. Cherries, I was thinking I would buy either canned or frozen cherries and make cherry pie. Nika said cherries were her sin. “It’s the wrong season, I know,” she laughed. But we both knew I was going to make her cherry pie.

So, I was in Safeway, pushing my cart along, getting this, that, and the other, and the phone pinged, and I thought it was Marcella, or maybe Nika with an update on their arrival time, and I was so happy, and I reached for it, and I was going to tell her I was just about to get the cherries.

But no.

John.

“Susan, please make arrangements for me to see the boys while they’re here.”

Deflated immediately, right?

So. My instinct, immediately—to say, “Ok.” Right?

All of our marriage, I made all the arrangements.

But then…

This twinge.

And then a spark.

And then… anger.

And so instead, I texted, “Please make whatever arrangements you want to yourself. If you want to meet in the house, that’s fine. I will accommodate and leave.”

Ha.

A feeling of pride. Victory.

Except…

“They won’t return my calls and texts, because you’ve turned them against me. I only heard they were coming through one of Tyler’s friends’ parents.”

Stabbing pain between my eyes. In my heart.

Oh-god.

Me?

I have said, done nothing!

I could provide text shot of every single exchange I’ve had with the boys.

Tyler: “Hey, Mom, how are things?”

Me: “Fine, sweetheart, how are you?”

Cody: “Checking in, Mom. Holding up?”

Me: “Yup.”

All my complaining, whining, falling apart? Saved for Marcella.

(And, this blog.)

Not. A. Single. Complaint. From. Me. About. The. Cheating. Jerk. To. Our. Children.

I turned them against you?

I. Want. To. Scream.

I. Want. To. Swear.

I’m going to:

Fucking. Asshole.

Asshat.

Bastard.

Jerk!

So—phone in one hand, pushing my cart with the other, my head full of awful, awful thoughts, my eyes full of hot tears, I suddenly realize I’m slamming my cart into a human body—I see the human body flailing towards shelves and reeling sideways towards a stack of jars—and then there’s the sound of crashing and breaking glass, and…

“Oh-my-god-I’m-so-sorry!”

“Ok, ok, lady, I’m ok, don’t cry, hey, don’t cry—I’m totally fine!”

Except he wasn’t—he was laying in the middle of all these broken jars—of canned cherries, of course, of course, what else? “At least they have them in stock,” I thought stupidly, and then, “Did I break them all?”—and as he moved himself to get up, he put his hands on the floor—broken glass—and then blood—and I knelt down to help him up, and knees on glass, and sticky cherry juice, but also blood, and, oh, what a mess!

“Hey, lady, chill, calm down, ok? I’m fine. Accidents happen, and it’s a tiny cut, get up, just get up, and really, will you stop crying?”

But I couldn’t, because—well, John, jerk, so unfair, and also, I’m so stupid, look at this mess, and I just howled…

…until I realized I was on my knees on the floor of the Safeway, wrapped in a stranger’s arms, crying into his shoulder.

“Oh-god. I’m so sorry.” I started to pull away, but he didn’t let go of me.

“Take your time,” he said.

“We need to call someone to clean all this up,” I said into his neck. Armpit.

“That would be me,” he said. “No rush. First, we calm you down. Then, we clean you up. Then, we clean me up. Then, I clean up the mess. It’s all good.”

I guess that’s when I noticed the Safeway uniform.

I looked up at the face.

Oh.

Oh, the doorbell.

I guess I’ll end here for today.

*

9 comments on I have a bit of a breakdown in Safeway:

sugar&spice76: Face, face, describe the face!

BeautifulThingsEveryday: My girl notices a boy! Ok, just a fucking stock boy in Safeway while she’s having a nervous breakdown, but I’m calling that progress! Reading between the lines! And, I’m picking up that vibrator on my way to your place after work! And you’re going to use it while finishing that story in a totally inappropriate way!

mommyshidinginthebathroom3: Who was at the door?

*

susan-oh-susan: Sorry, I never got back on last night. School kids selling chocolate bars. You know, those chocolate almond bars the schools do for fundraisers? I bought three entire boxes. For the kids, you know.

mommyshidinginthebathroom3: How many did you eat?

susan-oh-susan: Like, just one from each box.

*

susan-oh-susan: Two from each box.

mommyshidinginthebathroom3: LOL.

susan-oh-susan: They still look full. ;P

Find out more: Cherry Pie Cure: Cast of Characters and More

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mjanecolette
TellMe@mjanecolette.com

Source for feature image: https://www.pexels.com/photo/purple-cherry-52733/

About mjanecolette

Writer. Reader. Angster. Reformed Bohemian (not). Author of the erotic romance TELL ME, the erotic tragedy (with a happy ending) CONSEQUENCES (of defensive adultery), the award-winning rom-com (she's versatile) CHERRY PIE CURE, and the just released TEXT ME, CUPID--a (slightly dirty) love story for 21st century adults who don't believe in love... but want it anyway. A sought-after speaker and presenter, Colette is also the author of the Dirty Writing Secrets Series, which includes the non-fiction collection of essays ROUGH DRAFT CONFESSIONS: not a guide to writing and selling erotica and romance but full of inside inside anyway, 101 FLIRTY WRITING PROMPTS TO SEDUCE YOUR MUSE, and ORGANIZED CREATIVE. She's also the curator of the fab YYC Queer Writers anthologies Queer Christmas in Cowtown, Screw Chocolate, and A Queer Summer Night's in Cowtown.

One comment

  1. Pingback: Cherry Pie Cure–the real time Blog Edition | m jane colette

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