The Ghostwriter's Wife

Holy Shit - Annie Fry

7/4/2015 2:35 PM

"Holy Shit!" Annie repeated, for the third time. She didn't know what to think or make of everything she'd just read; but her eyes burned from staring at the computer's screen for the past six hours, she was hungry, and she had to pee. She was still sitting in the den in nothing but a towel. Her hair had dried in tangles - to which, she added another, "Shit!"

Then it struck her, as she looked at the time in the corner of the screen - Jon couldn't still be asleep, could he? She'd better check on him! "Fuck!" Adrenaline shot through her as she jumped up from the couch, instinctively holding on to her towel. Seriously, what the fuck, she thought, she was in her own damned house, and her husband had seen her naked before. Recently, in fact. It had been dark, so he probably didn't see much. But, his hands had done the seeing for him.

Jon wasn't there. How was that possible? Annie didn't think she'd been so absorbed that he could have walked past and she wouldn't have noticed, nor could she imagine that he wouldn't have asked what she was doing with his computer. So, "What the hell? Jon!"

There was no answer. She was baffled. Then it occurred to her, he must have gotten up while she was in the shower and gone downstairs. That was the only logical answer, because she didn't believe in alien abductions. She instinctively headed toward the stairs, then decided, it was one thing to run around naked on the second floor, with all the drapes pulled closed, but the front door was directly at the bottom of the stairs, and it was mostly glass with a clear view of the street and sidewalk that ran in front of their house. She wasn't technically naked, she did have a towel around her, but that still felt more than naked enough. So, she should probably throw on some clothes, rather than expose some innocent passerby to her flabby, old, towel-covered, naked self. And, she might as well run a hairbrush through her tangled rat's nest. And, pee!

Her thoughts went back to everything she'd read that morning, now afternoon, as she sat and felt an instantaneous rush of relief as her over full bladder emptied. She'd read everything Jon had posted, but all the more recent posts had been at midnight every Tuesday morning, which confused her. She supposed it was possible he was still posting them. He was almost always up late enough.

But, he'd told her earlier that he hadn't written anything in months. She'd specifically asked how his writing was going and he'd told her, it wasn't. Had he already written everything and somehow set it up to post automatically? In which case there had to be more of what he'd written somewhere on the blog site. She couldn't ask, because then she'd have to admit she'd been snooping. So, she'd just continue snooping.

After she'd dressed and brushed the tangles out of her hair, she went back to the den and sat at Jon's computer again. There were indeed over a hundred additional files in a folder titled 'unposted,' with what looked to be dates at the beginning of each file name, all future dates, and - she counted days in her head – all of them Tuesdays. So, there was a whole shitload more than what she'd already ready read. She was tempted, but she was really hungry, and she still hadn't located her missing husband.

She found him sitting on the deck, in nothing but a T-shirt and his boxer briefs, staring out into the yard.

"Hey," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder – concerned. He wasn't himself. She didn't know what was up.

"Hey," Jon said, turning to look back at her. "So...?"

"What?" Annie asked.

"So, what did you think? I came back up to ask if you wanted coffee and saw you reading. I said your name, but you were obviously engrossed, so I decided not to bother you."

"Oh..." Annie said, a flush of embarrassment reddening her face. She'd been caught. "Are you pissed?"

Jon shrugged and shook his head. "No. Why would I be? I've been leaving it out so you'd find it. I figured you'd have been curious enough that you'd have already read it. So, no. Read it all. Please. I still don't know what the fuck to think about it. I really don't know what to think about anything anymore." He grimaced and looked back out into the yard.

"Lunch?" Annie asked him. It was late for lunch, but she hadn't eaten anything that day, and she assumed Jon wouldn't have either.

"Sure, I guess," Jon answered, still staring intently at something in the yard.

Annie looked in the direction he was looking, but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. She had a wicked thought and wondered whether a blowjob, right then and there, might not yank him back out of whatever funk he was in, but she looked around at all the windows, from any one of which, or all of them, someone could be watching. Probably not the best idea, she decided. Or, her insecurities, lack of courage and all the rules stuffed into her head her entire life, about what was acceptable behavior, had decided. She thought it was excellent idea. But, her wanton new voice had been out voted. Lunch now. Blowjob later.

Sometimes, she wished she weren't such a coward and was more adventuresome, like her friend, Sue. She was all but certain Sue would have given Jon the blowjob and thought nothing of it. And, Annie didn't mean, given the same circumstances. Given the chance, she thought Sue would probably have given her husband, Jon, a blowjob on the deck. Fuck what the neighbors thought.