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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1547336-The-Year-of-Silver
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Contest · #1547336
Howard and Roxy are celebrating their 25th anniversary and Howard has a change of heart.
Howard had been a 'son of a bitch' most of his life and he knew it, but today was different.  It was his wedding anniversary and he was determined to give Roxy a day she would never forget. 

Howard gingerly opened the kitchen door, hoping not to wake Roxy.  Howard He made his way to the beat up Chevy parked in the driveway, stopping only to wipe Rambo's early morning gift from his shoe.

"Damn dog," he muttered to himself.

Howard drove to the local supermarket, grateful to find an available handicap spot.  Howard fit the Chevy into the narrow space and pulled out the parking decal courtesy of Roxy.  He smiled to himself, thinking that her annoying arthritis at least came in handy for something.

Howard really did not care for things domestic, but he pulled out a cart and checked his pocket for the list of things he wanted to purchase. 
He went to the produce section first.  He observed others thumping melons and smelling lemons, both of which were beyond his skill level.  He took another look at his shopping list and started to rethink his plans for a romantic picnic with Roxy.  He ran his fingers through his gray hair and sighed. 

"Good morning, sir."  A store clerk looked at Howard and gestured to the array of cooked goods in front of her.  "Would you like to sample?" she smiled.

"Um," Howard obliged and went against his better judgment and sheepishly asked, "I'm planning a picnic for my wife, and I really don't know what to get."

"Well," the clerk started, "what sort of things does your wife like?"

Howard thought long and hard.

"I really don't know."  Embarrassed by this admission of truth, Howard looked away.

She gave an encouraging smile, "First time, how sweet."

Howard blushed, feeling the heat on his cheeks.  He wondered what had come over him – grocery shopping for a picnic, tasting little pieces of meat on a stick, and opening up to a stranger.  This certainly was not the Howard Roman known to others and to himself.

By the time Howard left the supermarket, Tracy the store clerk, had supplied  him with a picnic basket, an assortment of fruit, paté, crackers, wine, and other things Howard had never heard of or even tasted for that matter.

Howard and Roxanne married when they were both in their late thirties.  Neither had been in a long-term relationship before and Howard still had difficulty remembering why they got married.  The one thing he remembered was that Roxy was a nurturer, maybe too much so and he certainly took advantage of this trait in his wife.  Despite his distance and even prickly disposition, Roxy always catered to his every need.

Howard could feel the waves of guilt coming on.  Unfamiliar with the human emotion, he mistook the feeling for nausea and braced himself for what would come next.  Nothing came, and Howard realized that he had not treated Roxy the way she deserved.  He vowed at that moment to change.  He started the ignition and drove home a new husband.


Howard and Roxy picnicked in the meadow about a mile from their house.  Howard was pleased to see Roxy having a good time and enjoying the array of food for the event.  Even Rambo appeared to be enjoying himself.  It was then that Howard realized he had not seen the dog for at least an hour.

"Where could he be?" he asked Roxy.

"Maybe we should look for him," she suggested.  "You know there's a well not too far from here."

Howard became worried and started in the direction of the well, Roxy not very far behind him.  Before they got to the well, Howard heard distant whimpers.  His heart dropped and before he knew it, Howard had taken hold of the rope attached to the cracked windlass and started to descend into the dark well.  Midway down the well Howard's eyes grew wide when he saw the frayed rope.

"Roxy," he cried, never before experiencing such numbing fear.

Roxy looked down at Howard.  Although too petrified to understand the look on her face, Howard realized this was his end when Roxy screamed out.

"This is for twenty-five years of hell with you, you old son of a bitch!"  She spat.

There was a loud thud, then nothing.

"Here boy," Roxy called sweetly.

Rambo came out of the bush, running to his mistress.

Word Count: 741
© Copyright 2009 anastasia beyverhausen (moisie75 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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