Small Town Gossip

Ken arrived at Sara's house with a box of wine and two wine glasses. “Oh, thank goodness,” she said as she opened the door, “you’re a lifesaver.” The box of wine was superfluous, but the two wine glasses were sorely needed. Almost everyone from Fowlerville was there for the party and Sara was two glasses short.

Ken gave a perfunctory wave to a room full of familiar faces as he removed his coat and handed it to Sara’s husband, Craig. He was a polite man, although inelegantly balding and with a physique usually reserved for sitcom husbands. Ken always felt a little awkward around Craig. He knew Craig was one of those doomsday preppers with a basement full of firearms and canned food. He’d also been sleeping with Craig’s wife since he (Craig) started traveling for work. Ken mentally shrugged away his guilt with the thought, “Hey, in a small town, anyone you sleep with is bound to be the wife of someone you know.”

People throw the term “small town” around quite a bit. It’s hard to say that Fowlerville is even a town. It’s more like a handful of farmhouses within walking distance to a Piggly Wiggly grocery store. No highways came by here. Not even a paved road for at least ten miles. Not on any map. The only people that even know it exists are people who were born here.

“Where’s the missus?” Craig asked Ken, hanging the coat next to dozens of others in the foyer closet.

“Oh, Jenny’s got a bit of a headache and didn’t want to bring down the party.” In reality, Jenny hadn’t had a headache in years, but she had a more than healthy dose of social anxiety. She just never felt like she belonged. Staying home also gave her a chance to invite Joey over, the college sophomore who used to help out with the yard. Now he helps Jenny with other things. Ken found out a few weeks back; he was so relieved that he didn’t need to feel guilty about Sara anymore, Ken felt like a new man ever since.

     The party had been underway for at least half an hour and the appetizers trays had been well fingered. Few of the cheese cubes remained, although the crackers were still plentiful. Several half-eaten bags of chips hung around a newly refreshed bowl of dip. Deviled eggs and jumbo shrimp were now only a distant memory. No one minded the lack of an entree, considering the well-known custom was to eat before your arrival.

     Stacy was ushering folks out of their seats so the couches in the large living room could be pushed aside, making room for charades. Many of the husbands stayed gathered in the kitchen, sipping various liquors and nursing their third or fourth beers. The manly talk of shared political opinions and corruption of morals was well underway by the time Ken joined in, “Can you believe the trash those teachers are making kids read in school now-a-days?” The other men laughed in agreement and shook their heads as if to say, “What is the world coming to?”

“Game time fellas!” Stacy shouted from the living room.

“Better get in there,” Craig said to his pals in the kitchen, “the gals will never guess anything without us.” They each mumbled some form of assent and shuffled into the room.

The games went on for nearly two hours, getting progressively louder as the glasses emptied and beer cans became smashed. There was no official end to the game, but as each of the separate conversations in the room rose to a level that drowned out any guess at the performer's actions, the game dissolved into town news.

“You hear that they’re painting over the water tower?” said a slurring male voice, “putting a big heart on it. They say it’ll help with town unity, like we need that.”

“Yeah, unify us in laughing at a dumb paint job,” Added another voice, nearly indistinguishable from the first.

“What about that new couple that moved to town?” Asked a sputtering feminine voice into the conversation arena.

“The girl is old McManus’s daughter if you can believe it. Can hardly recognize her now with that big city way about her.” said Ken.

“She’ll be running around on him in no time, you can always tell,” said Craig. “Those heathens on the coast don’t believe in monogamy.”

“Pshh, like you could tell,” said Sara, who quickly covered her mouth. She relaxed after a moment when she saw Craig was in his usual habit of not realizing she exists. Ken shot her a wink.

Stacy chimed in, “Hey Ken, didn’t you date the McManus girl in school.”

“Hah,” Ken said, preparing himself for a boast, “It’d be easier to tell you who I didn’t date in school. Who knew that she’d settle down with that little wuss that she brought to town.”

“Yeah, he’s got New York written all over him, probably an atheist.” Added Craig. “I bet he’ll be driving around all day looking for a Starbucks, or maybe a little place that gives men pedicures.”

“I don’t know,” Sara said, “I think he’s kinda cute. I might ask him for a friendly ‘get to know ya’ coffee next week.”

“How many people do you need to know!” Craig said with a little more bite than anyone had expected. Sara’s eyes got wide as she whipped her head toward Ken. “Yeah, I know about you two,” he added. “Not that I judge you much, it seems like every woman in town is someone else’s wife, you just gotta stop caring at some point.”

“Ope,” cried a man’s voice from the edge of the room, ”I just realized I forgot to put my keys in the key bowl. Hard for one of you ladies to pick ‘em if they still in my pocket.” Everyone laughed as they glanced around the room at the possibilities.

Another man jumped back in on the conversation, “I can’t believe McManus’s daughter is with some amoral joker from the coast. You raise ‘em right and they still become deviants.” Everyone nodded and murmured at the girl who had lost her way.