Tag Archives: chuck wendig

A dirty mind is a Joy forever.

This story is a flash fiction challenge written for the Terribleminds; chuck wendig weekly challenge. We were given an image of the new cover of  Roald Dahl’s “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”. We were asked to ignore the title and tell the story we saw in that image. We were given roughly a 1000 words. I must admit I’m slightly over…

A dirty mind is a Joy forever.

Well? What do you think of her? Doesn’t she look absolutely gorgeous in that pink mink? I simply had to have her photographed in that. And me in a matching outfit next to her of course. I bought that mink last week for her 6th birthday the day before yesterday. We are having a party for her on Sunday. Don’t worry. I didn’t forgot to invite you. The invite is in the mail. We decided only yesterday to throw her a party. We really weren’t sure at all if we’d celebrate this year. I mean she has been so sickly lately. I wasn’t sure if she could handle a party well. But the last few weeks have been good for her. So I think it’ll be fine to throw her a small birthday party. Besides a little fun never hurt anybody, right?

Is it wrong of me to feel a little bit awkward still about, you know, adopting her? It’s been 5 years now. Don’t get me wrong! I love her to death. But I haven’t been able to let go of the idea that she is somebody else’s biological child. Or maybe it’s because Hugh gave her to me to keep me quiet.

I didn’t tell you?! I’m sorry, I thought I did! Hugh gave her to me to keep me quiet about his affair with the pool boy. Or at least, I think he did. I never actually told him I know. I was holding on to that juicy tidbit for desperate times. You know he can’t afford anybody to know about his real sexual proclivity. Of course I suspected such a thing a good while before that. We never had a wild sex life to begin with, but by then I felt like nothing but a coat hanger in the house. Part of his coming home routine. Well, if only I was actually part of such a routine. Maybe then I wouldn’t have resorted to extra curricular activities myself. On a positive note, I never have to fear getting pregnant by the wrong guy, being as infertile as I am. My ovaries are so barren they’d suck a man dry because of it. Did I just say that?! I’m sorry, the whole thing always gets me so worked up. But you don’t mind, do you? You are my closest friend after all!

Anyway, I’m deviating from the story. One night I get home from a meeting at the Beverly Hills Women’s Club about some charity luncheon. Clarice had been serving the most awful German wine again. Why she keeps insisting on drinking that wine I will never understand. So naturally I head over to the wine cellar to grab a bottle of Pouilly Fumé to rinse that horrific taste out of my mouth with. Well, to get from the front door of the house to the wine cellar in our house, you go through the living room. And, as you know, our living room has big glass doors that you can open to gain access to the garden and the pool. But you can also see the pool house from there. And as I walk passed I notice the doors being opened and instinctively I look outside while I’m walking. That’s when I notice the lights in the pool house being turned on. Which was odd to me, as I didn’t remember any guests staying in the pool house that night. So I turn to walk outside to go and have a look at why the lights were on over there. As I approach the pool house I notice people inside of it. My pace slowed down but I didn’t stop walking over there. I had to see who those people were. I remember realizing first what those people were doing before I realized who was actually doing it. I think I stood there a good full minute just looking inside. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I couldn’t believe he could do those things to begin with! But that’s beside the point. There he was, with Rodriguez, our pool boy. Well, he wasn’t our pool boy for very long after that. I saw to that of course.

But in that moment things became clear for me. Why we lasted this long and why he hadn’t divorced me yet. I was his cover to the outside world. As long as I was playing the good housewife and going to meetings like the Beverly Hills Women’s Club charity luncheon, nobody would suspect anything wrong with our marriage. Well, that’s if you disregard our marriage being childless. So in a way I owe my current lifestyle to Rodriguez, whom I had deported after I caught him with my husband. You see, our marriage was a marriage of convenience arranged by our parents. My dad made me marry Hugh so that his father would be obliged to invest in my father’s company. His father, who probably already knew of Hugh’s sexual proclivity, was all too happy to see him get married to me. Back then I was a nice girl. I looked good and I had a good and sweet reputation. I was well educated, but not too ambitious. Perfect marriage material for the heir to a multimillionaire’s financial empire. But his father wasn’t stupid. He had me sign a prenuptial agreement the day before we were to get married. In that agreement it says that I have no rights to anything in the event we should get divorced if the marriage is childless at that moment. By then I was so enthralled in the idea of getting married to this handsome rich boy, I would have signed my life to the devil himself. In all honesty I can’t blame Hugh of ever being evil to me. But our marriage has never been very warm and fuzzy. Until that night I always believed that was because I wasn’t attractive enough for him. That or the sneaking suspicion that his sexual proclivity lay elsewhere. Sure we had sex. But mostly because it was expected of us. He had an obligation to the world to produce children as well. And one is supposed to produce them with one’s wife off course. So once a month, when I was supposedly the most fertile we had sex. Or we went through the motions of having sex at least. I’m not sure he even actually finished ever time. After a few years of that, and peer pressure from his father and others around us, we went to the doctor to find out why I wasn’t getting pregnant still. That’s when I found out I can’t have children because I basically have no eggs to speak of. After that we didn’t have sex at all anymore. And a year later I found him in the pool house with Rodriguez. And less then a year after that we were adopting Joy. Somehow he must have found out that I found out about him. I picked a girl just to spike him and his father. Hugh tried exactly three words of disagreeing with my choice before letting go of it.

Maybe I should write a thank you note to Rodriguez, to thank him for getting me out of that prenuptial. What do you think?

 

 

 

 

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