I'm Home Dear by Doc

                    I’m home, dear….
                   
As he walked in the door, Joanne pointed to the floor in front of him.  She was on the phone, a glass of red wine on the end table beside the sofa.  He dropped.  She grinned, still talking.

“Yes, he just got home…” “No, I don’t let him.” “Of course he does!” “In your dreams, girl!” “Nope!”  And so on.  She was obviously talking to her best (only?) friend Brenda.  Definitely not to her mom!

Bill shifted his weight from one knee to the other.  It had been a long day.  He was tired and irritable and sick of stop and go traffic.  He stared at the glass of wine.

Joanne snapped her fingers, pointing behind herself toward the kitchen.   Bill rose (happy to rise) and followed the pointing finger.  On the counter he found a dish piled high with Ritz crackers surrounding a large piece of Emmenthaler (Em-in-taller)cheese.   He carefully carried the plate to the living room, placing it on the end table adjacent to the glass of wine, now half empty.  He noticed the bottle was on the coffee table.  Then turning back toward Joanne he noticed she was frowning and now had her thumb inverted, pointing to the carpet.  Bill dropped, a bit embarrassed that he’d missed his cue when he’d allowed his gaze to rest on the bottle.

“He does OK.”  “Yes, he’s right in front of me.”  “Never!” “I’ll bet you would, you bitch”.  She laughed.  Joanne was always laughing.  He liked that.  She made him happy.  Maybe he was fucked, but what the heck.  He seemed to be making her happy.  He knew he tried.

“Someday I might, girlfriend.” “Yes, I know.  Me too.” “It is getting late.”  “Alright.  Later!”

Joanne hung the phone up.  “Do you know who that was?”  He nodded.

“She has a new sugar daddy, Bill.  I’m so happy for her.”

Bill nodded again.

“He’s much kinkier than you are. “  She paused. “He’s just right for Brenda, but I’m sure glad I don’t need to cope with anyone like him in MY life!”  Joanne looked directly into Bill’s eyes.  She looked away just long enough to cut a thick slice of (Em-in-taller) Emmenthaler, place it on a cracker, pop it into her mouth, and then to finish the glass of wine.

“I want more, Bill.” He jumped up, carefully embraced the bottle and carefully poured Joanne another glass of wine.  The label read ‘Merlot’.  Bill didn’t drink much, but he had drunk Merlot and it was nice.  He knew he knew shit about wine.  It didn’t matter.  Joanne didn’t like him drinking – except on the rare occasions that she had intercourse with Bill.  Most of the time she used him for his tongue.  Then she called him ‘my little lap dog’.  She was referring to the verb ‘lap’, not the noun.

“Bill, your attention is elsewhere, isn't it?”  He nodded.   She smirked.  “It’s OK,” she said.  “Dream away….” Another pause.  “What was I talking about…. Oh…. Brenda’s new acquisition.”
 
Bill knew not to speak unless asked for an opinion.  Joanne had not asked.

“She’s such a selfish cunt, Bill.  I love her.  I think she’s so hot!  I’ve learned a lot from her about manipulation, you know…. “She looked at Bill, quietly kneeling before her.  “But you know about manipulative bitches don’t you, Bill.”  She laughed.  He nodded.

“Oh, I sent out for pizza for dinner tonight.  Brenda’s coming over with her new boyfriend.  I ordered an extra-large.”  Joanne gazed at Bill.

“Bill, do you know I love you?”  Bill, a bit puzzled, nodded, not very sure what he was nodding in agreement to.

Joanne then laughed out loud. “You don’t have a clue, do you, love.  You have no idea!”

Bill agreed.  He had no idea what she was thinking.

THE END