WIP 2

“I don’t know why you talk to him Nance. He is so…dull.” Becky said coming out from the kitchen dusting flour off of her hands and on to her jeans. Becky was a short, stout woman who hated to be called Rebecca. She said she wasn’t a serious enough person to go around insisting that she be referred to as “Rebecca.” Somewhat of a clumsy person, she always seemed to be spilling something or other, be it flour or icing on her clothes. Becky is older than Nancy by a decade, and despite being employed by Nancy she used her age to lecture Nancy.
“He’s not dull, you are just too scared to talk to him. He is just…different. I’m not sure why I talk to him. A part of me repulses him for what he does, but then another part of me finds him interesting. Why don’t you give him a chance? You might end up liking him. Besides what is it to you if I want to talk to him or not?”
“Nance you have a son at home who loves you and needs you. What is he going to think if he sees you consorting with the likes of him?”
“He’s too little to understand what Frank does. But you don’t need to worry, what would Frank see in someone like me?” And with that Nancy let the subject drop and went about her day baking and cleaning.
“Hey Becky, its three I’m going to go and get Christian from school. I’ll be back later.”
“Ok Nance, but you better not let him hear you calling him Christian, its “Chris” now remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Nancy thought as she walked into the brisk afternoon air, “what’s the point of naming your child if his friends are just going to change it anyway.” Christian’s school was only five blocks away and Nancy enjoyed the walk to and from the school each day. It gave her time to think about anything she pleased. A lot of the time she thought about the bakery, and Christian. But today she couldn’t help thinking about the conversation she and Becky had had. What is it about Frank that makes me want to get to know him? Besides, what would Frank see in me? He is good looking, has money, he’s charming and funny. I’m just a widow with a seven year old. I run a bakery and go to the PTA. There is nothing interesting about me at all. Nancy had arrived at Christian’s school. After signing him out from the playground monitor, Nancy and her son began walking back to the bakery. Christians’ little legs wouldn’t carry him as far as Nancy’s steps would, despite how many super powers he received from his Spider-Man socks.
“It sure is cold mom,” Christian said rubbing his gloves on his heavy blue jacket.
“You look cold honey, would you like my jacket?”
“Of course not mom, then you’ll get cold too.”
“You think I’m interesting don’t you Christian?” Nancy abruptly asked giving in to what was bothering her.
“It’s Chris mom! I go by Chris now.”
“Sorry Chris, but you do think I’m interesting don’t you?”
“Of course I do mom, you’re the best!”
Smiling broadly Nancy thought, Who needs another man, I’ve got the only one I need right here.