Plastic groaned across hardwood when Wendy pushed her office chair away from the computer table.
“Cass?”
Cass turned the burner down on the stove and walked into the den.
“Yeah doll?”
“How are you feeling about our finances? The Erikson’s lost everything in a house fire, and there’s a fundraiser.”
Cass brushed some stray bay leaf off her apron.
“They’ve always been so sweet. Those kids are adorable...everything...wow. We can throw ‘em a couple hundo, right? Is that enough?”
Wendy stood, leaned, and licked Cass’s ear.
“Let’s do five, okay?”
Cass gave her a swat on the ass and said “Five’s cool. How the hell do you lose everything? Like nothing could be saved?”
“Apparently. They weren’t home. Everyone’s safe. That’s the excellent part.”
Cass went and pulled the pot off the stove and turned the burner off completely, shivering at the thought of losing everything in a fire.
“Wend, if we had a house fire and we were home, other than the pets what’s the first thing you’d save?”
Wendy walked into the kitchen, dipped her pinkie into the fresh batch of hot chili, said “ouch” then licked her finger.
“Your diploma. You’ve never smiled brighter than your graduation day.”
“Fuck that, the university would replace it. Save my golf clubs.”
“They’re in the garage,” Wendy said “You specifically said the house.”
Cass took Wendy’s wrists in her hands.
“And I’m an asshole. Thinking of saving my diploma is beyond a wonderful thing to say.”
“What would you save?” Wendy asked.
“Super simple,” Cass answered when the vee in “save” was still on her wife’s lips. “That duck you carved when we were living in Marquette. That thing is so beautiful. You’ve done some amazing work, but that’s tops. Then I’d come back for all the rest.”
“No, unh uh,” Wendy shot back. “You get one thing and you get to safety. None of that stuff is worth losing you. All the paintings we have on these walls, I bet the smoke would be pretty gnarly.”
Cass kissed Wendy on her magenta lips, then cracked the rabble rouser’s smile that Wendy loved so much.
“If we were gonna burn this place down for the insurance money, what would you set on fire first?”
Wendy hesitated, not because she had to think about it, but because she didn’t want to hurt Cass’s feelings.
“Probably...that old wagon wheel you bought at that cider mill near Monroe.”
“You don’t like that thing, huh? We can get rid of it.”
“No, Cass, you love that thing. It wasn’t even for sale and you talked the guy out of it. How about you? What would you burn first?”
Cass took her chili apron off and tossed it on the counter.
“Your copy of Infinite Jest, because you are never, ever, ever gonna finish that thing.”
***
Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash
Author’s Note: I may or may not have previously made a snide remark about Infinite Jest on these pages. I don’t apologize, but I will try to pick a different literary target next time I feel the need to have a literary target. I don’t think I can add a smiley face emoji to this note, so suffice it to say I thought of it.
Also, my book Humans, Being is still for sale. If you enjoy my work and think someone you care about might like 365 Hundred Word Stories it’s available and looking for a few forever homes. To check it out click here.
i barreled through ulysses, but could only make it through a third of infinite jest.
slag away....
I couldn’t get through Infinite Jest, either—finally gave it away with a bunch of books a few years ago. I hung onto a couple of collections of shorter pieces, though. David Foster Wallace was a great writer.