Another Midwestern Love Story

Perhaps all is not quiet on the midwestern front...

Ellen stands on the porch, squinting into the morning light. She hollers as Weldon stalks past her behind the dented old craftsman mower.

"What! Are! You! Doing?!"

"What, did you expect the grass to cut itself, eh?"

Ellen rubs her eyes in frustration. "Weldon, it's 7:00 in the morning! Why do we do this every week?! Besides, I asked you to clean the garage, not wake all the neighbors."

"What did you expect me to do, get rid of everything I been storin' in the garage?" He shakes his head, starts the mower, and finishes the lawn.

Wheeling the lawnmower back the garage, Weldon finds Ellen, still in her bathrobe, flinging objects out onto the driveway, grimacing and muttering and grunting.

"Oh, eh! What're you doin'?!" A hopelessly tangled fishing rod whizzes by his head. "Hey! I'm gonna fix that, y'know?! What—"

"I wanted you… to clean… the garage!" A bicycle wheel rolls out into the street. "We don't even own a bicycle anymore!"

"Jerry Lofield's boy does. Why throw it out if—"

"Then give it to him and get it out of the garage! I do not want to spend another winter excavating my car because you're a hoarding amateur landscaper!"

Weldon picks up the wheel out of the street and hangs it on a hook in the garage, out of Ellen's reach. As he steps back, he trips on an old alternator he's had since 2018; it might come in handy if his goes bad. He totters and falls backward, his back digging into a crate full wires, switches, and cast-off electrical outlets.

"Ow! Damn this junk!" he shouts as he rubs his back.

Ellen crosses her arms triumphantly, a smile on her face for the first time that morning. "Well, Weldon Hassinger, what did you expect?!!"

NOTES: ▶︎

Word Count: 300
Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Use the phrase "What did you expect?"

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