She left the girl scout cookies on the porch

Not wanting to disturb the missus, she said
As if this were the nineteen-twenties
And such affectations hadn’t gone the
Way of the phoenix or the dodo bird

And I would have thought she was
Being a bit of a noodge, but she
Said this with a smile and the smile
Tore holes in my heart, and I fell
In stealthy love with her again

She had her little girl by the hand
I don’t know, maybe as some kind of shield
Or maybe she was just showing off
Or maybe, to my alarm, she was
Signaling that this mad escapade was
Over and she was going back to him.

The girl had her mother’s eyes and her mother’s smile
And her black hair shone in the summer sun
And there was nothing, I swear nothing
That looked like the man waiting impatiently
In the SUV. He leaned on the horn one more time
And I jumped, wondering if he knew

Oh him, she sighed and waved him off. Always
In a hurry. He doesn’t understand that
Sometimes you just have to stop and smell the roses
And then she grinned at me and squeezed
Her daughter’s hand tightly. Best in the
School, she said. Sold six hundred fifty five boxes.
Isn’t that something?

I said it was, feeling the strangled beetle in my
Throat. Wondering what a mother might do
Or might have done to produce such
A winner of a brand new girl scout. She seemed
To sense the questions behind my eyes,
The doubt that scudded over them like
Clouds on a sunny day in March.

For an instant, her own eyes flickered
With anger, and maybe hurt. How dare I?
What kind of person do you think I am?
And seeing the alarm and apology
Spreading over my face, her own softened
Into some pudding of comprehension
For the fears of yet another jealous man

And she said, the mints are the best
And our biggest sellers, and I think
We shorted you some boxes, sir

I’ll deliver those myself tomorrow, she said.

04/01/2011

Author's Note: Another imagining that began as a short story

Posted on 04/01/2011
Copyright © 2024 Ken Harnisch