Conking the Cuckoo - Cover

Conking the Cuckoo

by Mat Twassel

Copyright© 2021 by Mat Twassel

Fiction Story: They've had just a couple of dates, but he's smitten, and she'd agreed to come over to his place for dinner, but now she's calling to tell him she can't make it.

Tags: Ma/Fa   Heterosexual   Fiction  

Derek had only seen Megan a couple of times, kissed her only once, but he was in love. He was sure she was the one. He was really excited that she’d agreed to come over to his apartment for dinner. And then the phone call.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Megan said, “but I can’t make it. I’ve got this really terrible cold.”

“Really?” Derek said. “I’m sorry to hear that. I was really looking forward to your coming over.”

“I know,” Meg said. “I mean, I was really looking forward to it, too.”

“You could come over anyway,” Derek said. “I mean, I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“I think I’d better not. Better stay home and get well.”

“Okay,” Derek said. “But if you want me to bring you over a corned beef sandwich, just say the word. I’ve been slow-cooking the stuff all day, and it should be ready any minute now.”

“That’s okay,” Meg said. “I don’t want you to go to the trouble. I’m sorry you spent all day cooking for me and all.”

“No, that’s all right,” Derek said. “The apartment smells good. At least I think it does.”

“Mm,” Meg said. “Yeah, I can practically smell it right over the phone.”

“Even with a cold,” Derek said.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You don’t really sound too stuffed up or anything,” Derek said.

“It’s more a head cold,” Meg said.

“I have some good wine, too,” Derek added. “A nice Malbec.”

“I don’t know much about wine,” Meg said.

“You’d like this one,” Derek said.

“Maybe next time.”

“Right,” Derek said. “Next time.”

“I am looking forward to seeing your apartment,” Meg said.

“Yeah, well, it’s just a studio.”

“I bet it’s nice.”

“It’s pretty nice. At least I think so.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, it’s on the fifth floor. It’s got a pretty good view of the park.”

“That’s nice.”

“Otherwise, I guess there’s not much to say.”

“Sounds mysterious.”

“No, mostly just basic. Plain.”

“Not even any pictures on the wall?”

“I should get some pictures.”

“You should.”

“Maybe you could help me buy some paintings sometime.”

“That might be fun.”

“It’s not like my walls are completely bare, though.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’ve got this cuckoo clock.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it really coo-coos. Every hour. I made it myself. From a cuckoo clock kit.”

“You’re kidding.”

“You have to see it. Or at least hear it. In fact, if you stay on the phone for another, let’s see, seventeen minutes, you’ll hear it.”

“Or I could call back.”

“You’ve got something to do?”

“No. Just nurse my cold. But I don’t want to tie you up.”

“I don’t mind talking to you.”

“Okay,” Meg said. Then the line was silent for a while.

“Fifteen minutes till coo-coo time,” Derek said.

“This is exciting.”

“You’ll be disappointed now.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Meg said. “Anything else in your apartment? While we wait.”

“Hm,” Derek said. “Table. Chairs. A few books. My computer. My dartboard.”

“You have a dartboard?”

“Yeah. You play?”

“No.”

“Oh. You sounded interested in it.”

“Just a little surprised, I guess. I think of dartboards in like bars and basement rec rooms. My little brother had one in the basement over the ping pong table. He and his pesty little friends were always playing.”

“But you never played?”

“Never.”

“Well, when you come over, we’ll have to play.”

“I’d be awful.”

“Maybe not. Maybe you’d be a natural.”

“I bet you’re really good.”

“Pretty good. Not world class or anything like that.”

“Well, I’m sure you’d beat the pants off me.”

“That might be fun. Beating the pants off you.”

“Ha ha. So what else you got in your apartment? Besides the usual stuff.”

“I don’t know. What should I have?”

“I don’t know,” Meg said. “A dog? A cat?”

“Oh, no. No pets. Not even any fish. Do you think I should have a pet?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe a kitten. A cute gray kitten. I bet she’d be interested in the cuckoo clock. Every hour when the bird popped out. The bird does pop out, doesn’t he? And the cat would perk up its ears, and eye the bird, and consider leaping up and ... I don’t know ... catching it. Biting its head off.”

“Wow, you really imagine stuff. Maybe I shouldn’t get a cat.”

“How much time left?”

“Are you anxious to go?”

“No,” Meg said, “it was just on my mind.”

“Nine more minutes.”

“So, what can we do in nine minutes?”

 
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