Wake Up

“I can’t believe she hasn’t called,” said Jane.

She slammed the plates into the cupboard in exasperation.

“Honey, she’s busy,” said Marcos, Jane’s husband, as he flipped through the Sunday paper.

“But all that time I spent on that package, not to mention the extraordinary efforts we underwent to host them here,” she added, throwing the silverware in the drawer with a clang. “I just don’t understand, not a peep in weeks.”

“I’ve talked to Kenny, and he said something about being happy about getting the shirt back,” said Marcos, chuckling inside about the gag gift his wife had purchased for Marie’s husband. It was an all-American polo shirt, probably manufactured in the 80’s, with a flag, the constitution and patriotic heroes screened onto the fabric. She probably found it at the annual church swap meet. It was her gift to Kenny when they visited that summer for the fourth of July.

“It’s not funny,” Jane retorted.

“I’m sorry, sugar, I know she cares, and you do too. Maybe she has some sort of complication and she can’t connect right now,” Marcos said.

Not placated, Jane finished the dishes and began preparations for dinner.

“We’re eating fish for dinner,” she said to Marcos, aware that it wasn’t his favorite, but wanted to use up the last of the catch their friends had brought them from Alaska.
"Sounds good to me," Marcos answered, not wanting to further rock the boat.

After wiping down the counters, Jenny strode into the master bedroom and plopped down on the bed. She picked up a book and began to read. Within 10 minutes, her eyes began to droop, so she gave in and set the book aside, and snoozed.

The phone rang.

“Hello?” Jane replied groggily.

“Hi, Jane, it’s me, Marie!” her sister said excitedly.

“Oh, hi,” she said.

“Tell me how you have been, and then I can’t wait to share the most exciting news,” Marie said.

“I’ve been fine,” said Jane.

“Awesome,” said Marie. “And how is your job, and Marcos, and the kids?”

“Fine,” said Jane.

“And how about your neighbors, Marlene and Eddie, did they have an awesome summer?” she asked.

“They’re fine,” Jane said.

“Well,” began Marie again, “and what about your wine business, any new distributors?”

“No,” Jane said.

“Jane,” Marie said, “what is wrong? You’re acting like you don’t even want to talk to me.”

“Well actually Marie, I don’t,” Jane said, as shifted the phone to her other ear and propped herself up on the bed.

“And why not? I’m about to tell you the most exciting news and you don’t even have a word to say, except that everything is fine,” said Marie, as her face moved into pout mode, or at least that was how Jane visualized it. “I’d like to be pleasant with you, I mean, I asked how you were doing and everything. I mean, what is up? Why are you being mean to me?”

“When was the last time we talked?” retorted Jane.

“I don’t remember, and I apologize. I’ve been so busy …,” said Marie.

“Yeah, that’s what Marcos said. Whatever,” said Jane.

“Sooo … do you want to just stay mad at me and not hear my news?” asked Marie, hurt.

“All right, whatever,” said Jane, “Or let me guess. You won the lottery and have been having so much fun spending money on yourself that you haven’t had time to call.”

“Not exactly, dear sister, but I guess you don’t want to know, so, LATER,” said Marie, and she hung up the phone.

Jane woke up.

“Oh no,” she thought, “I am not being very forgiving at all. I need to call my sister!”

She punched “Marie” into her cell phone and waited for the connection.

“Hello,” Marie said, and Jane could feel her smile through the miles.

“Hello, dear sis,” said Jane, tentatively, “how are you?”

“Excellent,” said Marie, “I’ve missed you so, and please forgive my not calling back. We have had the most exciting summer since returning to Texas, and I’ve just received the most excellent news. But you first, how is your job going? And Marcos, has he had some time to play some golf and run in some races lately? And how about the kids? Have you had a chance to visit recently?” The words came gushing out of Marie in her normal fast-paced manner.

“Well,” Jane said, “We are all doing well. Job pace has slowed a bit since the start of school, Marcos beat Claude Capus in golf the other day, Alfred is doing well in his job and getting excited about his marriage to Candi, and Alicia is performing in a new play next week. We’ll be up there for the premiere then. I also found some incredible fabric for curtains at the thrift store the other day! So, what is your news, I’m dying to hear.”

“Okay,” answered Marie, “Are you ready?”

“Why of course,” said Jane.

“Well,” said Marie, “your sister is going to be a published author, of my own book!”

“How exciting!” said Jane, “which one? The children’s book about the bean’s that you’ve talked about for years, the conspiracy theory story or the one about all the weird people in your community?”

“Neither and none,” answered Marie. “An agent saw my blog and had a topic –food of all things – and thought that I would be excellent at writing about it. This happened soon after we returned from California, and since then, I have been preparing my proposal. As of Friday, I will be writing my first book!”

“That’s awesome!” said Jane, “What’s the title?”

“Wake up.”

“What? That’s the title?”

“No, I said wake up,” said Marcos, as he gently nudged Jane’s shoulder.

“What?” asked Jane.

“Honey, your sister is on the phone,” he added.

Jane laughed and asked him, “Did she tell you the title of her book?”

He gave her a puzzled look and handed her the phone.

“Hello,” she said.

“Oh, Jane, I’m so sorry for taking so long to call you! With all of my summer jobs, and my writing, back to school for me and the kids, I want to apologize for not thanking you for our awesome summer trip and the wonderful care package you sent,” Marie unloaded.

“Oh, dear sister, I was just thinking of you today. And by the way, I’m sorry that I didn’t call to check on you, and congratulations on the book deal!” said Jane.

“What?” asked Marie.

“I just have a feeling that something big is going to happen to you soon,” added Jane.

And they had a wonderful, sisterly conversation and all was well.

The End.

10 Minutes

As I was washing the dishes this morning, pondering all that I'd done this day already, yet regretful that I had not accomplished more, an interesting thought popped into my head.

What if God told me I had only ten minutes to live? What would I do in those ten minutes? This question, as all questions that fly through my brainwaves, included a stipulation. I would be notified of the ten minutes in whatever I was doing at that moment, for example, sitting at my computer at home, at school, in the car, and whether I was with my family, friends, or alone, and that would be my only warning.

First thought was that I must call my family. I was alone as I had this contemplation, so of course I would start with my husband, my children, my mother, my father, my sisters, and before I knew it, I would be out of ten minutes. It would be very difficult to tell each person what they mean to me and to express my love. How about a group text? But that would not be fair, or very nice, unless I just told them all that I love each one of them very much.

Then, typical of me, food popped into my head, the last meal, and with my eyes closed, as I rinsed off the green lettuce holder, I scanned the inside of my pantry, the freezer and the refrigerator. Since I recently ate some fresh eggs from my mother's chickens, served with sauteed onions, mushrooms, spinach, corn tortilla and garlic, sprinkled with cheese and served with a piece of buttery white toast, the Snickers bar frozen treat in my freezer appeared very satisfactory.

And because earlier in the week I discussed with my husband that Australia was on my bucket list to visit, I wistfully pondered that I would like to have gone there before I passed. Going somewhere when I only had ten minutes to live, unless I was already there, did not seem very likely, which leads to my answer of what I would do if I was told that I only had ten minutes to live.

I would first thank God for an awesome life, and for giving me several opportunities to keep on living. With two close-to-death experiences, I believe I am less afraid of death than some. Then, I think I would keep on doing what I was doing, washing the orange frying pan, folding clothes, walking the dog or making deviled eggs. I would certainly call Kevin and my children to tell them that I loved them very much, and maybe have a second Snickers bar.