Excerpt from A Laughing Matter of Pain

December begins with a snowstorm. Business is bad for a whole week. The advantage to this? I spend more time with Kathy. In the small house, there’s not much room for privacy. Dawson and Betty are never more than a room away. The four of us play cards or listen to the evening radio programs. Betty never complains about jazz like Ma did, although Dawson usually nods off within ten minutes of the radio going on. Betty sits with a book in one of the armchairs near the window while her husband snores away in the other. Most evenings, Kathy and I sit on the couch, although sometimes we remain in the kitchen long after dinner, talking over coffee and one after another cigarette for me.

The second week of December, the weather breaks. Dawson and I work all day in the cold, my fingers numb by the time dinner comes. After another busy day, Kathy’s parents rest in their usual spots in the living room while Kathy and I sit at the kitchen table. The crackle of the fire and Dawson’s snores are the only sounds.

“Has your dad always slept like he could sleep through a war?” I ask.

Kathy giggles. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad sometimes. I don’t know how Mom sleeps in the same room as him. I don’t suppose you snore?”

I shrug. “I wouldn’t know. My brother and me shared a room growing up. He never said anything. Why? You afraid I’d keep you up?” Realizing what I’ve said, I blush.

“That would assume sleeping in the same bed as me.” Kathy half-smiles and wrinkles her nose at me.

“Well, maybe…one day? I mean, if we ever, you know, married.” My blush deepens, as I know I’m getting ahead of myself.

“Are you asking?”

“Just…dreaming. A guy can dream, can’t he?”

“Nothing wrong with dreams.” Kathy takes my hand across the table. “Dreams are what keep us going through the hard times…and hope.”

“I like the sound of that. I think so, too.” I stare into her eyes, imaging her beautiful soul. “Your eyes are the same color as mine.” If we ever had kids together, they’d be sure to have blue eyes.

“You have nice eyes, Harry. And a nice smile.”

“A crooked smile, more like. My brother, Erik, was graced with the good looks in my family.” I laugh.

“Hmm, well, I don’t know what your brother looks like, but I don’t mind looking at you.”

“I’d rather look at you if it’s all the same.” I grin.

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Author: Cynthia "Cyndi" Hilston

Cynthia Hilston is a thirty-something-year-old stay at home mom of three young kids, happily married. Writing has always been like another child to her. After twenty years of waltzing in the world of fan fiction, she finally stepped away to do her debut dance with original works of fiction. In her spare time – what spare time? – she devours books, watches Doctor Who and Game of Thrones, pets her orange kitty, looks at the stars, and dreams of what other stories she wishes to tell.  

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