Marvelous Happy Things

This is a continuation of an original short story. The next weekend came quickly. Celia came home from work on Friday and had two text messages. One was from Rob. Can we talk sometime this weekend? The other was from Annie. We need to talk. “Did they plan this,” she wondered aloud. “Who?” She’d forgotten that Becca was reading in the living room. “I think some of my friends are teasing me. Do you know what teasing is?” Becca nodded. “On the other hand, if they don’t know, then it means something else.” “Is it going to hurt?” What a simple question. “I don’t know. I hope it doesn’t.” She decided to talk to Rob first. Let’s talk at my place tomorrow at 6. Then she told Annie, Come to my house tomorrow at 7. This limited the possibility of them running into each other. Hopefully they aren’t both mad at me. I can’t handle two angry people after a long day of customers. “We’re having visitors tomorrow night again. I’d like you to be in your room when they are here.” “O

This is a continuation of an original short story. After her shift, Celia rushed home to change from her uniform into some sort of nice clothes. She looked at her closet. All of her jeans were worn at the edges, and her shirts were from 2012, at least. She hadn’t gone shopping in years. I guess this polo and jeans will do. The doorbell rang. “Becca, answer the door!” She threw on her clothes. She hadn’t expected them to come this early. Shoes or no shoes? It is my house. No shoes. When she walked into the living room, Rob was standing there with Becca. “Is this your daughter?” “Yes, this is Becca. Becca, this is Mr. Rob.” “Hello, Mr. Rob,” Becca said, shyly. “Where’s Annie?” Celia asked. “She’s coming later. She had a meeting with a lot of the VPs of departments.” Why would he come alone? Is it something I did? What do I do now? “I haven’t made dinner yet. Have you eaten?” “No, Annie said we would eat together.” Rob looked at the floor. “I guess she didn’t tell you t

The house was small. She struggled to keep it clean. Her daughter, who was in first grade, would spill something almost every meal. She hadn’t desired to be a mother, but it came, during a high school fling. Becca was the result. She cared for Becca, as any mother would, but it was hard doing it alone. Sometimes she wondered what her life could have been like if Becca wasn’t born. She would have probably gone to college, majored in art, had a career. The doorbell rang, startling her out of her thoughts. It must be Annie. No one else ever comes to visit . She opened the door. “Hello, Celia,” said Annie. “I brought some banana bread.” “Thanks,” Celia replied. “Come on in.” Annie set the bread on the counter. “I got a promotion at work today.” She worked for a marketing firm. “Congratulations.” Celia often wondered why Annie came to visit. Sure, they had been friends in high school, but they lived such different lives now. Annie never asked how she was. “And . . .” A