THe Awakening of Russell Henderson

Every Sunday, I try to post an excerpt from my novel, The Awakening of Russell Henderson. Here’s another. The book is available at http://www.amazon.com/author/edwardlehner.

“Why couldn’t you be happy and be closer by? Are you still with that . . .  woman?”

“Yes I am and ‘that woman’s’ name is Hanna.”

“Where are you living? Surely not in that dreadful little car.”

“I’m living with her at her mother’s house outside of San Francisco.”

“You-are-what!? What kind of woman would let a boy stay in the same house as her daughter? You haven’t gotten married, have you!? I sure hope not! What about Dana?”

“No, we’re not married. And, Mom, Dana is history. She and I will never get back together. Please accept that.”

“I was hoping you might make up and get back together. I feel so bad about you two. Never did care for that John that Karen married. He was too slick, that one.”

“As I was about to say, we are staying here because her mother wants us to. She likes me and is happy Hanna and I are together. She is a wonderful person as is her partner.”

“Partner? What does that mean?”

“It means she and Frank live together as they have for the last twenty years, without being married.”

Kaboom. That set her off on a tirade about hippies, bohemians, antichrists, satan worshipers, hell and damnation, fire and brimstone and on and on. I set the phone down and listened from a distance until she calmed down.  Actually, a lot of what she was saying was true. I smiled to myself.

“And what about you Russell. I sure hope you aren’t ‘partnering’ with that woman!”

She was trying to push all my buttons, and since I wasn’t responding, it probably was making her even more agitated.

“Ah, you mean Hanna? I guess we are partners. We do everything together: we sleep together, play music together, eat together, have fun together, and so far I’m enjoying and loving every moment I’m with her. I am in love with her and plan on being with her for as long as she can stand me.”

There was silence. I could almost hear her mind churning, trying to digest all this information.

Sounding defeated and having given up, she asked, “What about Karen? Is she working? Where is she living? Is she eating and sleeping okay?”

All of a sudden, I felt an overwhelming sadness for her. This was way out of her league. She sounded like a mother asking if her ten year old was all right. This was not like her to be nice.

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