Mr. Rock ‘n’ Roll unlocked his apartment’s front door, walking in quietly. His wife usually was still asleep at this hour, but not today. She was squeezed in the miserably small kitchen, frying eggs and warming milk for the children. Luckily, they were still asleep.
His wife turned to face him, the rollers still in her hair. She called him names in her usual, annoying, high pitched voice. He was happy it wouldn’t damage his ears from now on. She went on and on, and he let her do so for what seemed like eternity, but was only for the next ten minutes. “You…! You! I can’t believe you didn’t set your foot home last night! Shame on you! Who was the whore you spent the night with?!”
Calmly he said, “I didn’t cheat on you. I could have, but I did not.”
She laughed darkly and threw her kitchen glove on the floor, which made less noise than she hoped it would. “Of course you didn't! Everyone who just stays away from home all night long and keeps hanging up on his wife doesn’t cheat on her! How could I misunderstand you like this?!”
He opened his mouth to reply, to finally get out the last words he had to tell her, but without taking a breath, she went on. In perfect synchronization, they said, “I want a divorce.”
It had been two years from that night when they had met each other.
Mrs. Black and White was walking out of the hospital. She’d never imagined that day would finally come. She was resting her head on Mr. Multicultural’s shoulder. She was crying. But these were tears of joy. Her son was on Mr. Multicultural’s shoulders, singing loudly the song his mother’s friend had taught him, while he was in the hospital. He couldn’t know how important that day was yet, he was too young, but his mother did. His cancer was in recession. Who could believe it? Mrs. Black and White couldn’t. Her son hadn’t gotten out of the hospital for almost two years. She had almost lost hope, but finally he did. He was out. And he was healthy.
“Where do you wanna go?” his mother asked him.
“The playground! I wanna go to the playground!” he said and they all laughed.
It was Saturday and Mr. Rock ‘n’ Roll prepared the twins to go to their mother. Weekends were hers. He made sandwiches and wrapped them in napkins, placing three in each of the twins’ bags. Three for his little boy and three for his little girl. They were both in the living room, watching Cartoon Network, barely awake and rubbing their eyes sleepily.
“Daddy, can’t we stay with you today?” his girl asked, coming in the kitchen and tugging at his shirt.
He stroked her hair and shook his head. “It’s time to go to mom,” he told her softly.
His boy came in, skipping, and caught his sister’s hand. “But we want to stay with you! We want to stay with you!” they kept saying over and over again, jumping on the kitchen floor, reminding him of the two little frogs from their favorite TV show.
This had been happening for the last few months. It made it even harder for him to be separated from them. They refused to go visit their mother anymore, even just for the weekend.
The doorbell ring saved him though. He put the backpacks down and opened the door. And there was Rock Chick, grinning from ear to ear, with a very good smelling box of donuts in hand.
“Good morning! I brought donuts for everyone!” she said.
“Yay!” the children cheered, and she opened the box for them to pick whichever they liked.
“I was just getting them ready to go to. Now, they won’t want to go anywhere.” He frowned and placed a quick kiss on her lips.
“Well, along with donuts I’m bringing some sweet news! No mom today. She has something else to do,” she announced, giving to his children her sweetest smile.
Mr. Rock ‘n’ Roll nudged her gently and whispered in her ear, “Don’t talk to them like it’s a good thing. They won’t want to see their mother at all if this keeps going on.”
“And? That's a bad thing because...?” she asked, lifting her eyebrow and smirking. The children were too oblivious to their conversation; they were dancing around and singing from happiness. She hugged them both and they giggled. “Sooo, we have the whole weekend to ourselves. What do you wanna do?”
And I've seen that all before
In TV, books and film and more
And there's a happy ending somewhere
Every single day… .
