You will find short stories on this site. Most are autobiographical. Some are fiction.

MONICA’S NEW MAN

For weeks I had heard from the family grapevine, that my adult daughter, Monica, had met a new man at a party she attended with her older brother. Neither had told me anything about this “new man” other than that it was “getting serious”. I was naturally very interested to learn more about Monica’s new involvement.

So when my younger son, Justin, returned to Portland from Berkeley, where he had been visiting his sister. I asked him to join me for lunch. We met at a small, well-appointed restaurant in the Lloyd District of Portland. We took a booth away from others. I had expected that Justin would quickly tell me about Monica’s new friend but he didn’t bring up the subject. He told me about his trip. He described his sister’s recent artwork. But he said nothing about the “new man”. The absence of a description of this guy made me even more curious. As we finished our sandwiches, I finally asked, “So Justin, tell me about this new man in Monica’s life?” He responded as if he had anticipated the question and had rehearsed this response in his mind, "His name is Nicholas. He’s a nice guy. He’s a lawyer. He works for the California Utility Commission.” He stopped and said no more. I thought, “A lawyer doesn’t sound like a man Monica would be interested in.” After a moment of silence I asked, “Is that all? “. Hesitantly, Justin said. “Well… he’s a kind of artist”. Ah, I thought, here is the connection. “Tell me about his art? I asked. “It’s more like he is a manufacturer…” Justin’s voice trailed off. He stopped talking. He looked very uncomfortable about the way this conversation was going. “So what does he manufacture? I asked. Justin did not respond. He sat there, squirming a little, tight-lipped, like a crook under police interrogation. “OK,” I said. “I will tell you what he manufactures.” Justin remained silent but his expression changed. It now conveyed a kind of defiance as if to say, “This will be interesting” and “You will never guess”.

There was another moment of silence as tried to imagine something so far-fetched, so implausible, that Justin would be relieved to tell me what he actually manufactured. I decided and said, “He makes dildos.” Justin’s expression changed to one of astonishment as he replied “How did you know?” Amazed, I blurted out “He does?” as I tried to grasp the concept of a man who is a lawyer for the state Utility Commission and who makes dildos on the side. Seeing my expression of confusion, Justin replied “They are not regular ones. They are artistic shapes.”