Our Bruised Bodies | Bradley Bradshaw

ACT FOUR - PART SIXTEEN

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The BBQ invitation had been nice and maybe even necessary as Grace had decided for the second Friday in a row to rather stay with Bradley, going out for dinner and then on a short walk on the beach, than to go and meet the girls at the Hard Deck. Which she had every right to do, no one was forcing her to be a part of the group if she really didn't want to, but Bradley knew Grace for long enough to know that something was off and that whatever it was, she was hiding it from him.

At first, he thought it was something going on at work with that one kid sharing a name with Admiral Peterson, then he suspected that it might have to do with something about the promotion Grace tried to get, but by now he's absolutely clueless and honestly hoped that maybe the other spouses would get her to talk about it.

"You know, women, they talk in the kitchen." Weaver said to Bradley upon seeing his gaze on his soon-to-be wife that had just been pulled up from her seat on a deckchair into the kitchen by Laura. Ada and Charlotte were already there.

"I feel like sometimes, they do belong there." Cookie added, which had Bradley look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I know what it sounds like. As if I'm a masochistic asshole that forces my wife to slave away in the kitchen but it's like this game." The older man said, while Bradley took the empty deck chair to relax his knee a bit, a single crutch resting next to him, while Cookie was still in his wheelchair, smiling a bit painfully as he watched Bradley and his quick recovery.

"Which game?" Bradley asked confused.

"Minecraft." Cookie answered. "We did everything as a society to get the children out of the mines. For its very bad for them. Now one of the most played games is one where you have to go underground to mine for resources. The children earn for the mines just as the wives yearn for the kitchens." David pointed out, which had Bradley look up from where he was watching his hand rub over his knee gently.

"And how again do you not sound like an asshole when you say that?" The younger man wondered.

"Not to cook and severe the men." Cookie explained. "But to have their own space. I'm not walking in there when we have friends over and neither do any of the other guys. We are here by the BBQ or we're in the garage. That's our space. You won't find a woman there and if not for long. Same with the kitchen. It's their space and honestly I don't even want to know what my woman tells yours right now." David muttered, a slight grimace on his face.

Bradley believed that he was bullshitting him, which Cookie easily noticed. All it took was one look at the young aviator.

"Just look, really look at them." The older man told him, pointing at the kitchen window. "The way Laura leans in to your Grace. They are cutting tomatoes together, looks like they are doing a mundane task, but see how their lips move, but their hands are steady. They are sharing secrets, telling stories they would never tell with us close. The moment a guy walks in, it's all giggling to cover up their conversation."

"How would you know?" Bradley wanted to know, before he glanced over his shoulder to see how the BBQ was doing now that they've stepped away from it to have a conversation, but everything seemed fine.

"I was a little boy once and my mother was all for a women's talk in the kitchen. I was there before I grew too old and was told to go and hang out with the other men. Broke my fucking heart. I loved their stories even though they were rarely nice. You know... my mother never seemed real to me. She was always so perfect but in the kitchen with my aunt around and the wives of my father's colleagues. She seemed real and raw. It was nice to see." Cookie explained, something nostalgic crossing over his expression.