Jack Crutchfield - The Anniversary

THE ANNIVERSARY

Jack Crutchfield

Artcover: Gabriel Rufatto

Copyright: BERLINABLE UG

Berlinable invites you to leave all your fears behind and dive into a world where sex is a tool for self-empowerment.

Our mission is to change the world - one soul at a time.

When people accept their own sexuality, they build a more tolerant society.

Words to inspire, to encourage, to transform.

Open your mind and free your deepest desires.

All rights reserved.It is not permitted to copy, distribute or otherwise publish the content of this eBook without the express permission of the publisher. Subject to changes, typographical errors and spelling errors. The plot and the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to dead or living people or public figures is not intended and are purely coincidental.

The parents of Trisha Jeffrey had been married for 30 years to the day, but at this point their marriage had merely become obligatory for the sake of their daughter and their social stature in the small Central Valley town of Dinuba. But on this special day, their polarizing differences and argumentative nature would temporarily subside. They would appear before their daughter, her boyfriend, their friends, family, and the world as a happily married couple. Yes, they would gather all of their loved ones to tell stories they have already told about forty times over and reminisce about the good times.

So, both Trisha and Henry took time out of their busy schedules to make the drive from San Luis Obispo over to Dinuba. Henry was not particularly wild of spending more time than he had to around her parents but he did it simply because he loved Trisha and knew it would make her happy.

"How many people are going to be at this thing?" Henry asked as their car pulled onto the long country road that Trisha’s parents presided on.

"It’s hard to say," she said skeptically. "I’m sure my mom will invite all of the family that lives in the area and I think my dad is inviting his groomsmen."

"Could you do me a favor?" Henry asked.

"Of course."

"Just… don’t leave me alone please. You know I hate being alone at these events."

"Oh Henry," she said as she reached over from the steering wheel and squeezed his hand. "I promise, I won’t leave you alone."

"Thank you, dear," he sighed as he slumped into his seat.

Trisha pulled into her parents' driveway. As they got out they were greeted by the swarm of semi-feral cats that her parents felt the need to feed because nobody else would. The mere presence of the cats made Henry lean back against the car and hug his luggage to his chest. Every time Henry saw them—the cats—he couldn’t quite place it, but—in addition to believing that cats were a filthy breed of animal—he had the sneaking suspicion that they were constantly plotting ways to murder him.

The swarm of cats was soon followed by the barking of dogs. Henry looked up to see the two family Dobermans running towards them. Their presence suddenly caused the cats to disperse and Henry felt his anxiety subside at the sight of the dogs. Now that is an admirable animal, he thought.

Henry and Trisha grabbed their things from the car and made their way towards the door. As they walked to the house the two Dobermans followed them and stayed particularly close to Henry. Dogs took a liking to him for some reason or another. Maybe it was because he had extra sugar in his blood—or a kind soul—who really knows with these things. Henry made sure to give the two Dobermans lots of love and affection for coming to his aid and dispersing the feline menace. As they reached the front door it suddenly flew open. Trisha’s father stood at the entrance and greeted them. He was a large, sturdy man with red hair, a big red beard, deeply set green eyes, and an intimidating set of hands for someone at his age.

"Hello, dad!" Trisha exclaimed as she dropped her luggage and hugged him.

"Hello pumpkin," he said as Henry stepped through the door.

When they had finished hugging Henry walked up to him and offered him his hand.

"Hello Mr. Jeffrey," Henry said in a masculine tone of respect.

"Dammit Henry, call me Dan," he said in a stern, yet friendly, tone. “For crying out loud you’ve been with my daughter for four years now.”

Henry coughed uncomfortably and replied, "I would, but my mom would kill me."

"Have it your way then," he said nonchalantly.

Despite Dan’s protests to have Henry refer to him by his Christian name, Dan secretly enjoyed the fact that Henry still called him by his last name. It was his way of knowing that Henry respected and admired him—or at the very least made an effort to seem like he did.

Dan suggested that Trisha and Henry put their stuff away before heading into the kitchen, so they did. Since Henry and Trisha were not married they still had to sleep in separate rooms, which was fine by them. They both enjoyed the danger of trying to copulate without being caught. After getting settled, Trisha and Henry joined Dan in the kitchen where Trisha’s mother prepared dinner for them.

She turned away from the stove and gave Trisha and Henry an obligatory smile.

"Hey mom," Trisha said with less enthusiasm.

"Hello sweetie," she replied absent-mindedly.

She walked away from the stove to greet them.

"Nice to see you again Mrs. Jeffrey," said Henry as he gave her a brief, one-armed hug.

And of course she put Henry through the same routine that Mr. Jeffrey did about calling her Darla instead of Mrs. Jeffrey and again, Henry politely declined.

As they made small talk in the kitchen, Henry regarded Darla for a moment. He still couldn’t help but admire the hollow state of Darla’s beauty. Even in her old age Henry knew that she was very beautiful once but years and years of hard work and sadness had taken its toll on her. Even when she smiled and laughed it seemed to be a mere thin veneer that masked an unfathomable amount of misery and suffering. Henry was fully aware that both Dan and Darla’s pasts were riddled with epic odysseys of triumph and loss. Even the story of how they met and built a life together was nothing short of an epic novel unto itself. A few times he had even considered asking them for permission to record both of their stories to turn into a book—or a few books—but he didn’t due to a lack of courage and an overabundance of good manners.

After making small talk about this, that, or the other, Darla told Trisha that she had found a collection of old family photos that she wanted to show her. So, Darla and Trisha left the room to go to a different part of the house leaving Henry alone with Mr. Jeffrey—a situation Henry almost always tried to avoid due to Mr. Jeffrey’s propensity to openly discuss his political views, which were just shy of a fascist’s. He typically placated Mr. Jeffry’s racist and nationalist sentiments with words and phrases like: I see, yeah, you don’t say, and that’s interesting. Surprisingly enough, Henry did not directly rebuke Mr. Jeffrey’s political views out of cowardice. Again, he endured it because he loved Trisha and he knew it was very important to her to have her parents like him. Henry also had the sneaking suspicion that Mr. Jeffrey knew this and used it as a way of getting up on his soapbox in order to make his ideas verbally known to the world because subconsciously, Mr. Jeffrey knew that his kind was a dying kind. However, this encounter was going to be a little bit different from the rest.

"Mr. Jeffrey," Henry blurted out. "There’s something important I’d like to discuss with you later. Something private."