The sign, it said: “Abortions- 50% Off,” so I turned to her and said, “Honey, let’s do it. Let’s now get it done.”
She looked up and laughed, “I’m not even dressed...” but I brought us to the parking lot, past the protestors with their dire signs and cardboard warnings, into a gravel spot beside the building dusty.
Inside a woman named Patty offered us hot chocolate and Thin-Mint Cookies, a gift of the girl scouts... We were well on our way to a lovely day, to a memory we could cherish forever, something we could tell our grand-neighbors about.
We wouldn’t have to do it if I had stayed in our bed, if I could have resisted the soft folds of her satin sheets. And we wouldn’t have to do it if her denim skirt had been six inches longer. Fabric was to blame... we probably would have had a kid....
In the waiting room she leans back and tells me, “Bogart is my favorite ‘High Sierra’.”
And I say, “I know, baby, I know that...” And now my heart is scrambled eggs.
On the way back stopping off for cantaloupe, and watermelon, and pineapples. “Life is a farmer’s market,” I said, but she just laughed and rolled her eyes. We made it home and played the ‘Airplane’ DVD. Kids fly free...
When the shit hits the fan...
And now we’re on board this flight together, and I’m praying that God will land us safely.
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