The Blog Propellant · writing

The Getaway

TBP
TBP


“You look beautiful, Margie. You look like a princess.” Genny told her.

“Do you think so? I don’t feel beautiful. I feel like I need to take a shower.”

“Oh, don’t talk like that. It’s your wedding day.”

“I know that, but I’m marrying a guy they call ‘Jimmy the Fish’. Does that seem right to you Genny? Huh? I was supposed to grow up and marry Bobby Parr and live happily ever after. I wasn’t supposed to marry Jimmy the Fuckin’ Fish!”

“But you agreed to this.”

“Not really.

“My Dad did. The Fish gave my dad a parking garage on 92nd Street. Suddenly, I was engaged.”

“Come on Margie, It’s not gonna be that bad… he’s got a house on the Cape ya know.”

“Does that make it OK, Genny? Does that make it OK for me to share my bed with a man named ‘The Fish’? I don’t think so… I don’t think so.

“Can you cover for me. I need at least an hour’s head start.”

“You know it won’t be good if they ever find you.”


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