What do I tell my wife? – Fiction

“Whatever advice you give, be short.”
–Quintus Horace

There were nine people in the waiting area all of whom had appointments with Dr. Scott Evander.
Dick Hertz by all accounts was the oldest of the lot waiting to see the good doctor.
Dick Hertz a 56-year old TV producer for CNN in Atlanta arrived an hour early for his appointment.
He kept fidgeting and turning the wedding band on his left hand and he kept thinking about all the times he cheated on his wife with other women. He was disgusted at the fact the last women he had a sexual encounter with was a woman he hardly knew, but to make matters even worse was the fact that they engaged in the 69 position.
This was something he never did before and now he wondered what sort of disease Marcy had passed on to him.

He thought:
“How could I be so stupid? Why did I not use a condom like I usually do?
FUCK!”

He signed in at the reception desk and then his phone began to ring.

“Hello…this is Dick Hertz…how may I help you?”

A female voice quickly speaks:

“Mr. Hertz, Dick, I’m so glad to finally catch up with you again, my name is Karen, Karen McDonald, I work for Delta Airlines and we met at the Longhorn Steakhouse in Buckhead two weeks ago, you told me when I was back in Atlanta to give you a call… I’m gonna be in Atlanta for a few days and I was hoping we could get together.”

“Well, it’s not a good time for me right now, I’m in the middle of a major project and I’m swamped with work.
I don’t know when I’m gonna be free.
But, I’ll call you.
Nice to talk to you again, take care…bye now.”

Dick Hertz walks out of the reception area and out to the parking lot where he quickly lights up a cigarette.
His phone rings again.
He sucks hard on the cigarette drawing the smoke deep into his lungs; the phone continues to ring…then he see’s a text message come in from his wife, Sally.
He flicks the cigarette to the ground and crushes it with the toe of his shoe.

He reads the incoming text:

Hey hun,I was just calling to see how your day was going.
Lately you seem down…I thought it would be nice if we could have a romantic dinner at our favorite restaurant.
My treat! Call me when you get a chance.

He looks down at the Rolex watch his wife bought for him for their tenth wedding anniversary.
Quickly he lights up another cigarette.
His phone rings again, he answers.

“Yeah, I’m at the doctor’s office now…no, I’m still waiting to see him.
I don’t know what I’m gonna do!
I pray what ever I have is curable.
That slut Marcy…she gave me this crap!
Hell no! I have not told Sally… do you think I’m crazy?
My head is spinning, listen Frank, let me call you later, yeah, bye.”

He looked back to his Rolex watch five minutes before his appointment.
A black girl in powder blue scrubs walks out into the reception area and calls out his name.

“Mr. Dick Hertz…the doctor will see you know. Please follow me Mr. Hertz.”

Slowly he rises from his seat.
Once inside the doctor’s office he felt like a lost child; he was scared, for his whole life hung in the balance depending on what the doctor would tell him in the next few moments. The whole experience felt like a nightmare but, the truth was this was far from a nightmare it was an excruciating reality unfolding.

The doctor, Dr. Scott Evander never got up from his seat nor did he extend his arm for a warm handshake.
Dick Hertz coughed and the doctor looked up from the chart and quickly removed his glasses and sighed deeply.
The doctor spoke slowly.
“Mr. Hertz, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, you have HERPES.”

Dick Hertz eyes filled up with water.
“Oh my GOD!
What am I gonna do…Oh! God… what am I gonna do?”

The doctor gave Dick Hertz a few moments to process the horrible information just received.

The doctor then went on to explain why he would discontinue being his primary doctor.

“Mr. Hertz, I am a family doctor; HIV-AIDS, HERPES and other STD’s are not apart of my practice.
You will need to find another doctor.
I’m sorry.”

The tears fell from his cheeks to the floor in silent splash to the carpet.

“But Dr. Evander, what do I tell my wife?”

The doctor cleared his throat.

“Tell her you have HERPES.”

Charles Micheaux
Atlanta, Georgia

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One thought on “What do I tell my wife? – Fiction

  1. Pingback: What do I tell my wife? – Fiction | MICHEAUX PUBLISHING

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