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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Life Changing Decisions/Events
- Published: 03/07/2022
The Lonely Life of Amanda Miller
Born 1944, F, from Melbourne, FL, United StatesThe Lonely Life of Amanda Miller
by
Valerie Allen
"Hey, Mandy! Where's the coffee this morning?" Eddie asked. He looked into his empty mug on the flecked granite countertop and then glanced at his wife.
Amanda sat at the kitchen table, still in her long cotton nightshirt and what used to be pink slippers, now a faded gray. Her hair was uncombed; her face unwashed.
Eddie wedged his fingers in and out of his waistband as he tucked his Tee-shirt into his jeans. He circled around the center island in the kitchen, lifted his coffee mug and looked into it a second time as if he expected the hot brown liquid had appeared since he last checked. He approached his wife.
She looked up at him. "I'm not in the mood to make coffee this morning," she said in a soft voice.
He set the mug down and shrugged. "My wife is on a coffee strike," he said into the air and worked at stuffing his wallet into his back pocket, shifting as he did so. He grabbed his cell phone, tapped into his email and the screen lit up. As the text appeared, he gritted his teeth. "Those idiots! Got the truck bogged down in a culvert. These guys are so stupid! How can you get stuck when you have a 4x4, dually diesel?" He shook his head. "They couldn't find their way out of a paper bag if I wasn't calling them by name." He jammed his finger onto the phone and the screen went dark.
Amanda looked at her husband. A man muscular from years of working outdoors with the utility company. His face and neck were tanned, with deep wrinkles criss-crossing the flesh. His hands were red, his knuckles scraped and swollen from years of pulling coils and flipping switches. "It's the line of work you're in,” she said reasonably. "If those guys had any brains they wouldn't need you, so I'd look at it as your job security.”
He half smiled and then nodded “I guess you're right, but still, I'm gonna catch all kinds of you-know-what from the big boss over this truck mess. It's the newest one in the fleet and now it's goin' to be down for repairs because of these clowns!”
She stared at him. “Eddie do you know what day it is?”
He jerked his head up and rubbed his hand across his chin. “Not your birthday, is it?” he asked, a tinge of guilt in his voice.
She tilted her head to one side. “No, Honey, you're safe on that one.”
“Our anniversary?”
“Nope. I was just checking to see if you're aware of anything other than you and the guys at work.”
“Hey, I have job security because of the jerks I work with. You just said so yourself.”
“So why do you complain about them all the time?”
He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “You know, Mandy, when you ask me these trick questions it usually doesn't turn out good between us.”
“They're not trick questions. Do you know who the president is?”
He lifted his chin slightly and squinted his eyes. “Okay, that does it. What's really goin' on this morning?”
She crossed her arms across her chest, and her nightshirt clung to her body. "I'm feeling out of sorts."
He raised his eyebrows. “Out of sorts?”
“Well, sad maybe,” she said.
“Sad?” he asked. “What do you have to be sad about?”
She studied him. “Well, maybe not sad exactly, more like lonely.”
“Okay, so make up your mind. Lonely? We have kids and grandkids comin' out our ears. You have those two pain-in-the-neck—adorable—cats you love. You have friends at work. You have your musician friends.”
She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, hugging herself. Tears brimmed on her eyelids. “But I don't have you. We don't have a life together. We don't do things with each other. We don't talk about anything except your work.”
He looked puzzled. “We've been married forever and I think we still are. Right?” Alarm in his tone.
“Yes, of course. That's not what I'm talking about. We don't share our lives with each other.” She looked at him. “I wanted to talk to you last night when I got home. I wanted to tell you about seeing my music friends.”
“So talk. What about them?” He lifted his hands out in front of him, palms up. “Is that it? You're mad at me because I had to work last night?”
Her eyes widened. “You didn't have to work last night. You took an extra shift when you knew I wanted you to go with me.”
“Look, you know I'm not into your friends and their crazy music.”
“I know. That's my point. Work or no work, you still wouldn't have gone with me.”
He frowned. “Did you have a good time last night or not?”
I did but... “
Eddie's phone beeped, interrupting her. He swiped the screen and his eyes moved along the text. He shook his head and then glanced toward her. “Yeah, so go on. What about last night?”
“I felt lonely. I was with at least 20 people but I was there by myself and they were each paired off . . .”
His phone buzzed again. “Hold that thought,” he said and walked away.
She looked up. “Eddie, Eddie?” she called after him. There was no response. She stood and saw him standing outside the kitchen window. He ended the call and walked to the driveway. He pulled down the tailgate and hoisted tow chains onto the bed of his truck.
She walked outside, stood at the back door, and watched him.
He looked up, surprised to see her. “What?” he called.
“Eddie, I was talking to you about last night, about being with my friends.”
He turned halfway around to look at her. “Sorry, I thought you were done talking. So what was going on?” he asked.
She walked toward him and watched as he heaved a roll of orange electrical cord and a blue tarp into the truck along side the tow chains. He hopped onto the truck bed and arranged the tarp with the electrical cord on top to hold it in place.
Amanda walked to the truck, reached up and placed both hands on the edge. “I was lonely because you weren't with me. I was lonely because when I got home last night you were too busy watching the sport's clips to ask me about my night out. After that, you took a shower and then you went to bed—without me. This morning I feel even more lonely because I wanted to share what went on last night—who I saw, who I talked with, the music they played, the fun we had . . .”
He kicked at the tow chain with his steel-tipped boot. “It's good you had a night out.” He stood and looked beyond her into the garage toward his workbench. “Would you hand me a set of screwdrivers? They're inside that black toolbox.”
She lifted her hands from the truck and sighed. “Sure. I'll get them for you.” She walked into the dim light of the garage with its mild smell of grease and motor oil. She rummaged around the toolbox and found the pouch with the screwdrivers.
“Here,” she said as she lifted them up to him.
"Thanks." He hopped down from the truck, slammed the tailgate and walked to the driver's side door. He reached in and set his phone on the console. “Don't worry about the coffee. I'll stop at the drive through.” He pecked her on the cheek and climbed into the cab.
She stood in the driveway and watched as he drove away. A slight breeze lifted her hair and bellowed the sides of her nightshirt out from her body. Slowly, she lifted her hand and waved goodbye.
# # #
Thank you for taking the time to read
"The Lonely Life of Amanda Miller"
If you enjoyed it,
please consider telling your friends
and posting a review on
Amazon.com, Goodreads.com
or other online sites.
Word-of-mouth referrals are
an author's best friend
and much appreciated.
The Lonely Life of Amanda Miller
by
Valerie Allen
Copyright by Valerie Allen 2018
Amazon.com/dp/B07FQWDT5H
All rights reserved
For More Information, please contact:
Valerie Allen
VAllenWriter@gmail.com
ValerieAllenWriter.com
Amazon.com/author/valerieallen
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events, is entirely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author.
Short Stories
by
Valerie Allen
A Good Thing on a Bad Day
A License to Practice
A Marriage of Convenience
A Mother's Love
A Tooth for a Tooth
Ad Hoc Committee
Best Wishes
Brotherly Love
Conditional Love
Doggie Tales
Father's Day
Fire Engine Red
Fireworks on the 4th
Fit for Life
Future Plans
Holiday House Rules
Holiday Traditions
Home for the Holidays
I Remember Momma
Just Be Cos
Ladies in Waiting
Leisureville
Love is in the Air
Match-maker
Mother Knows Best
Potty Talk
Puppy Love
Queen for a Day
No Goin' Home
Second Chance
Small Steps
Split Second Timing
Thank You, Mr. Jackson!
The Big Winner!
The Garden of Love
The Lonely Life of Amanda Miller
The Penalty Box
Valentine's Day
Visiting Day
Words of Wisdom
~ ~ ~
The Lonely Life of Amanda Miller(Valerie Allen)
The Lonely Life of Amanda Miller
by
Valerie Allen
"Hey, Mandy! Where's the coffee this morning?" Eddie asked. He looked into his empty mug on the flecked granite countertop and then glanced at his wife.
Amanda sat at the kitchen table, still in her long cotton nightshirt and what used to be pink slippers, now a faded gray. Her hair was uncombed; her face unwashed.
Eddie wedged his fingers in and out of his waistband as he tucked his Tee-shirt into his jeans. He circled around the center island in the kitchen, lifted his coffee mug and looked into it a second time as if he expected the hot brown liquid had appeared since he last checked. He approached his wife.
She looked up at him. "I'm not in the mood to make coffee this morning," she said in a soft voice.
He set the mug down and shrugged. "My wife is on a coffee strike," he said into the air and worked at stuffing his wallet into his back pocket, shifting as he did so. He grabbed his cell phone, tapped into his email and the screen lit up. As the text appeared, he gritted his teeth. "Those idiots! Got the truck bogged down in a culvert. These guys are so stupid! How can you get stuck when you have a 4x4, dually diesel?" He shook his head. "They couldn't find their way out of a paper bag if I wasn't calling them by name." He jammed his finger onto the phone and the screen went dark.
Amanda looked at her husband. A man muscular from years of working outdoors with the utility company. His face and neck were tanned, with deep wrinkles criss-crossing the flesh. His hands were red, his knuckles scraped and swollen from years of pulling coils and flipping switches. "It's the line of work you're in,” she said reasonably. "If those guys had any brains they wouldn't need you, so I'd look at it as your job security.”
He half smiled and then nodded “I guess you're right, but still, I'm gonna catch all kinds of you-know-what from the big boss over this truck mess. It's the newest one in the fleet and now it's goin' to be down for repairs because of these clowns!”
She stared at him. “Eddie do you know what day it is?”
He jerked his head up and rubbed his hand across his chin. “Not your birthday, is it?” he asked, a tinge of guilt in his voice.
She tilted her head to one side. “No, Honey, you're safe on that one.”
“Our anniversary?”
“Nope. I was just checking to see if you're aware of anything other than you and the guys at work.”
“Hey, I have job security because of the jerks I work with. You just said so yourself.”
“So why do you complain about them all the time?”
He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “You know, Mandy, when you ask me these trick questions it usually doesn't turn out good between us.”
“They're not trick questions. Do you know who the president is?”
He lifted his chin slightly and squinted his eyes. “Okay, that does it. What's really goin' on this morning?”
She crossed her arms across her chest, and her nightshirt clung to her body. "I'm feeling out of sorts."
He raised his eyebrows. “Out of sorts?”
“Well, sad maybe,” she said.
“Sad?” he asked. “What do you have to be sad about?”
She studied him. “Well, maybe not sad exactly, more like lonely.”
“Okay, so make up your mind. Lonely? We have kids and grandkids comin' out our ears. You have those two pain-in-the-neck—adorable—cats you love. You have friends at work. You have your musician friends.”
She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, hugging herself. Tears brimmed on her eyelids. “But I don't have you. We don't have a life together. We don't do things with each other. We don't talk about anything except your work.”
He looked puzzled. “We've been married forever and I think we still are. Right?” Alarm in his tone.
“Yes, of course. That's not what I'm talking about. We don't share our lives with each other.” She looked at him. “I wanted to talk to you last night when I got home. I wanted to tell you about seeing my music friends.”
“So talk. What about them?” He lifted his hands out in front of him, palms up. “Is that it? You're mad at me because I had to work last night?”
Her eyes widened. “You didn't have to work last night. You took an extra shift when you knew I wanted you to go with me.”
“Look, you know I'm not into your friends and their crazy music.”
“I know. That's my point. Work or no work, you still wouldn't have gone with me.”
He frowned. “Did you have a good time last night or not?”
I did but... “
Eddie's phone beeped, interrupting her. He swiped the screen and his eyes moved along the text. He shook his head and then glanced toward her. “Yeah, so go on. What about last night?”
“I felt lonely. I was with at least 20 people but I was there by myself and they were each paired off . . .”
His phone buzzed again. “Hold that thought,” he said and walked away.
She looked up. “Eddie, Eddie?” she called after him. There was no response. She stood and saw him standing outside the kitchen window. He ended the call and walked to the driveway. He pulled down the tailgate and hoisted tow chains onto the bed of his truck.
She walked outside, stood at the back door, and watched him.
He looked up, surprised to see her. “What?” he called.
“Eddie, I was talking to you about last night, about being with my friends.”
He turned halfway around to look at her. “Sorry, I thought you were done talking. So what was going on?” he asked.
She walked toward him and watched as he heaved a roll of orange electrical cord and a blue tarp into the truck along side the tow chains. He hopped onto the truck bed and arranged the tarp with the electrical cord on top to hold it in place.
Amanda walked to the truck, reached up and placed both hands on the edge. “I was lonely because you weren't with me. I was lonely because when I got home last night you were too busy watching the sport's clips to ask me about my night out. After that, you took a shower and then you went to bed—without me. This morning I feel even more lonely because I wanted to share what went on last night—who I saw, who I talked with, the music they played, the fun we had . . .”
He kicked at the tow chain with his steel-tipped boot. “It's good you had a night out.” He stood and looked beyond her into the garage toward his workbench. “Would you hand me a set of screwdrivers? They're inside that black toolbox.”
She lifted her hands from the truck and sighed. “Sure. I'll get them for you.” She walked into the dim light of the garage with its mild smell of grease and motor oil. She rummaged around the toolbox and found the pouch with the screwdrivers.
“Here,” she said as she lifted them up to him.
"Thanks." He hopped down from the truck, slammed the tailgate and walked to the driver's side door. He reached in and set his phone on the console. “Don't worry about the coffee. I'll stop at the drive through.” He pecked her on the cheek and climbed into the cab.
She stood in the driveway and watched as he drove away. A slight breeze lifted her hair and bellowed the sides of her nightshirt out from her body. Slowly, she lifted her hand and waved goodbye.
# # #
Thank you for taking the time to read
"The Lonely Life of Amanda Miller"
If you enjoyed it,
please consider telling your friends
and posting a review on
Amazon.com, Goodreads.com
or other online sites.
Word-of-mouth referrals are
an author's best friend
and much appreciated.
The Lonely Life of Amanda Miller
by
Valerie Allen
Copyright by Valerie Allen 2018
Amazon.com/dp/B07FQWDT5H
All rights reserved
For More Information, please contact:
Valerie Allen
VAllenWriter@gmail.com
ValerieAllenWriter.com
Amazon.com/author/valerieallen
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events, is entirely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author.
Short Stories
by
Valerie Allen
A Good Thing on a Bad Day
A License to Practice
A Marriage of Convenience
A Mother's Love
A Tooth for a Tooth
Ad Hoc Committee
Best Wishes
Brotherly Love
Conditional Love
Doggie Tales
Father's Day
Fire Engine Red
Fireworks on the 4th
Fit for Life
Future Plans
Holiday House Rules
Holiday Traditions
Home for the Holidays
I Remember Momma
Just Be Cos
Ladies in Waiting
Leisureville
Love is in the Air
Match-maker
Mother Knows Best
Potty Talk
Puppy Love
Queen for a Day
No Goin' Home
Second Chance
Small Steps
Split Second Timing
Thank You, Mr. Jackson!
The Big Winner!
The Garden of Love
The Lonely Life of Amanda Miller
The Penalty Box
Valentine's Day
Visiting Day
Words of Wisdom
~ ~ ~
- Share this story on
- 9
Lillian Kazmierczak
03/18/2022It was a sad but well written story. I can't imagine staying and feeling like that. Congratulations on short story star of the day,
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Valerie Allen
03/19/2022Lillian - thank you for your comment. Sad to say, I think this is more common than we realized. Hopefully, people will stay together by choice not feel they are forced to stay in a relationship because of circumstances. Glad you enjoy reading my stories.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Shirley Smothers
03/18/2022An all too common tale. Sometimes we disengage from others. Sometimes we don't even know ourselves.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Valerie Allen
03/18/2022Shirley - thank you for reading and commenting on my story. I'm always surprised at the thought provoking responses to this short piece. Relationships can be tricky business. We tend to get lost in our own world and forget about the others in it.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Herm Sherwood-Sitts
03/18/2022A well written reminder for us guy's. Awesomely told and so true for many.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Valerie Allen
03/18/2022Herm - I appreciate your comment. Not always looking to blame it on the guys. I'm sure it can play out both ways. Point is, we need to take a look at our relationships with those we care about before time runs out and we are left wondering what happened! Thank you ~
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Rich Puckett
03/18/2022This story reminds of the song by the Beatles, all the lonely people where do they all come from. Thank you
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Valerie Allen
03/18/2022Rich - you're right. Hadn't thought of that but it does have a familiar theme. Thank you for reading and commenting on this short story.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
JD
03/18/2022I'm sure a lot of couples have similar issues. Thought provoking story, Valerie. Thank you. Happy short story STAR of the day! :-)
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Valerie Allen
03/18/2022JD - thank you for your feedback. I often get similar comments to this story about "deep thinking." Sad but perhaps couples will wake up before it's too late and focus on what is really important in their relationship. As always, I'm delighted to find one of my stories as Story Stary of the Day! Thank you ~
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Valerie Allen
03/11/2022Karen - thank you for your comment. Sorry to say this story receives many similar responses. It makes you ask what is the true essence of a loving relationship. This guy needs to wake up and "smell the coffee" before it's too late!
COMMENTS (7)