PERFECT PATIENCE By Lynn Sabin Despite his foul moods and indifference toward her over the past eleven years, she remained a loving wife, happily acceding to his every whim. “Try some of these sausages and chips I’ve prepared for your snack.” He glanced up from his football game and accepted the treat greedily. She was a marvelous cook, continually plying his pallet with steaks, roast beef, wonderful sauces, and the tastiest of deserts. “I’ve baked you your favorite chocolate cake.” And, despite of his ever-increasing girth, she’d remained a willing partner in their marriage bed. “I should go out and mow the lawn,” he’d say, but likely, as not, she’d already tended to the chore. He once asked her why she put up with his bad habits and burgeoning rotundity. “For your money, of course,” she’d chortled. Indeed, his portfolio was as fat as he’d become, but he’d also inherited his father’s penny-pinching proclivities. Thus, whenever she joked about his wealth, he discounted the little chill that accompanied her humor. “Have some more fried chicken,” she insisted. And even as he felt the pain clawing up his left arm, his lungs convulsing for oxygen, he said, “I don’t deserve you.” She laughed. “You’re right.”
Posted on: Thu, 08 Jan 2015 20:09:39 +0000
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