Tragic Love Friday: This One's for Jesus

It never entired my mind that the next installment of Tragic Love Friday also coincided with the day Jesus died on the Cross. Now, I didn't really forget, obviously, since I've been working so hard on my Lenten commitments, but when Rachel asked via Gmail chat if I'd be rescheduling the post for Monday, you know, in honor of the "holiday," I laughed off her poignant question, because really, as long as we keep away from the blogs at 3:00 p.m., our spiritual karma will be just fine.

When I worked at Saint Joe I had Good Friday AND Easter Monday off. Now that I'm part of the for-profit grind? Nothing. Luke is kicking back, though, so I'm taking a half-day so we can drive to Chicago before dinnertime. We'll hop over to Merrillville on Saturday afternoon and return to our humble, rented abode before Easter nightfall. Just in case you care, which you probably don't, you're just wondering whether today is the day that Katherine and Kyle do it, that is, if they DO do it, which I am so not telling you. (Today is not that day.)

I'm feeling a little kooky this morning. Buck up and bear with me.

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CHAPTER TWO - JENNA

I was at my desk finishing up some paper work when my boss, Mr. Crawford called me to his office.

"Have a seat, Jenna," he said. "I've got some news to discuss with you."

"Is it good?" I asked, smiling. [You saucy minx, you!]

"Oh, very good. I think Charleston Advertising is on its way to landing its first major account!"

That certainly was good news. Charleston Advertising was a fairly new company, only five years old, and wasn't really recognized as trustworthy and worthwhile. [So you work for them why, exactly?] Landing a major account could put us on the map.

"That's great!" I cried. "Who's checking us out?"

[C'mon, do I even have to say it?]

"Folger's Coffee has been looking around for some fresh advertising, and right now, they've got their eye on us." Mr. Crawford could hardly stay still, he was so excited. I understood why. After two years of being his personal assistant, I knew that his supervisors were constantly after him to land a worthwhile account, and for the past few months, they were hinting that if Crawford couldn't do the job, someone else would be found. Even though my boss could be extremely unbearable, he was basically a good man with a family to support.

[OK, in my line of work, I've seen managers fired after five MONTHS of non-performance, but what can I say? Lil' Frema hates to put people out of work. Killing off innocent babies is fine, but contributing to America's poverty population is not an option. For now.]

"Three representatives will be coming from Chicago in two weeks to hear a presentation from us," he continued. "From that presentation alone, they will decide if they'll allow us to advertise their coffee."

"Only two weeks? We'll need more time!" I protested.

"Well, a lot of time is something we don't have, Jenna. That's why I need you." He saw the nervous expression on my face and added, "It wont all rest on your shoulders. Agatha Hardy will help you." Agatha was the secretary, who basically did all the things that I couldn't do or finish. We didn't get along very well--she wanted my job, and I didn't like anyone who posed as a threat to my position. Agatha definitely did.

"I'll be writing down all kinds of facts and figures about Charleston Advertising, and you'll be transferring all of it into the form of graphs and charts. We also need to come up with how we can present Folgers as the best brand of coffee." [So in Cedar Springs, Iowa, entry-level employees can perform the duties of a copywriter, graphic designer, and marketing consultant. No pesky edumacation required!] His voice was firm as he added, "I cannot afford to not land this account. If I don't, I'll be waiting in the unemployment line. If that happens, I wont be waiting alone. I don't think I need to stress that, do I Jenna?"

"No, sir," I replied. I knew what he meant. If he gets fired, I get fired.

"Well, I guess that's it. Agatha knows all this; I filled her in earlier. She says she's happy to help."

[Why would you give the 411 to a secretary before your own right-hand (wo)man?]

I'll bet she is, I thought, but I didn't say anything. With a fake smile, I said good-bye to my boss and went to collect my things.

As I was waiting for my bus 10 minutes later, I thought about the Folgers account. I couldn't screw this up. Michael worked as a teacher at the local elementary school; not exactly a great-paying job. Our incomes combined were enough to let our family live comfortably, but if one of us lost our job, money would be very tight. I grimaced, remembering a time last year when the teachers at Michael's school went on strike for a month. The kids had had to walk to school because we couldn't afford bus fare. [For shame! The cancellation of basic cable service can't be far behind.]

A half-hour later, I was home.

I kicked off my heels and went to my room to change into an old sweat outfit. I rid face of make-up, then took out my contact lenses and put on my wire-rimmed glasses. Only then did I feel more comfortable. [On a completely unrelated note, the great Jerry Seinfeld once said that wearing sweats is a sign that one has given up on life. FYI.] I put on a pot of coffee and started flipping through the paper, bored and tired as hell. I hated coming home to an empty house.

It wasn't until 5:00 that someone walked through the door. No, not walked, floated through the door. Katherine threw her school bag on the floor and twirled her way to me. "Hello, Mother," she sang and kissed my cheek. She started to hum as she kicked her bag across the floor until she reached her room. Then she slammed her door, and I heard her stereo through the walls.

[If I kicked my backpack across any surface at all, I'd have gotten popped in the mouth. But whatever. ]

"Somebody's in a good mood," I mumbled, smiling. At that moment, the front door opened again, and the twins walked in. Lucas went for the fridge, and Leigh headed straight to her room. "How was school, Luke?" I asked.

"OK. We started sex ed today." He grinned. "I'm learning a lot so far."

I laughed and smacked his butt. [Hello, Inappropriate!] "You're a pervert, just like your father was."

"What was I?" Michael asked. I stood up to greet my husband. "A pervert at Luke's age," I told him, giving him a hug.

"Every Spencer boy is," he said, laughing, and his eyes twinkled. [You must be so proud!] Sometimes, when I looked at him, I forgot that he was a grown man, and only saw the boy I'd fallen in love with when I was 17. He was still muscular, with broad shoulders that showed he worked out. His black hair was wavy and fell over his eyes. Michael hadn't changed much, but the faint wrinkles around his eyes gave away his age.

"How was work?" I asked, running my fingers through his hair.

"Not the best. I gave a test today, and I've graded half of them. Nobody got above a C yet." He laughed, but he looked sad. "I guess Biology isn't a popular subject among my students." [Oh, I think it is, just not in the way you'd like. Here in Indianapolis, two sixth graders were caught doing the nasty during shop class RIGHT UNDER THEIR TEACHER'S NOSE. There was a partition blocking a section of the classroom from the teacher's view when he was seated at his desk. Because creating private spaces where horny adolescents can pro-create is an excellent idea!]

"They'll come around. No subject is a fun subject when you're a teenager." [Except that Michael teaches in an elementary school. Way to pay attention to attention to your husband's career.]

"I guess. How was your day?"

I told him about the new account. "Michael, if my company gets this account, I'll get a really nice raise. It could help us send the kids to college when they're out of high school."

"And if you don't?" he asked.

I smiled weakly. "Then we qualify for food stamps."

"We'll be OK, honey. I know you'll knock 'em dead."

Suddenly, the happy expression left Michael's face, and, taking me by the hand, he led me into our bedroom. I sat on the bed as he closed our door. Then he started to pace.

"Stop it, Mike, and tell me what's on your mind."

He stood still. Then he asked, "Did you call Dr. Peters today?"

I bit my lip. "I didn't have time at the office. I'll do it before dinner."

"Damn." Michael looked like he was about to say something else, but when he saw my face, thought better of it.

"I'm nervous, too, you know. I want to know what's wrong with me. Why didn't you call on your lunch hour?"

"Because he's not MY doctor!" My husband sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. [Enough with the fingers through the hair!] "Look, I don't mean to sound like it's all up to you. And nothing's wrong with you. Don't say that. It's our problem."

"Yes. Ours," I whispered. Michael sat beside me and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Are you OK?" he asked. I nodded, not looking at him. "Jenna?"

"I'm fine. Really, I'm just tired," I lied.

"Alright." He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press the issue, and for that I was grateful.

"Why don't you start dinner?" I asked. "I'm in the mood for some ribs, and nobody makes 'em like you, baby." I smiled and pushed him off the bed.

"I'll get you for that later," he said in a mock threatening tone. My husband kissed the top of my head affectionately and closed the door on his way out. I spread out on the bed and closed my eyes, thinking about the problem Michael and I had been having.

Though we'd been trying for months, Michael had yet to get me pregnant. We had both decided that we wanted one more child; very badly in fact. I longed for another baby to hold in my arms, to cuddle with and love; I knew Michael was hoping to have a son named after him. [Because the first one--you know, the male twin he created with his super sperm--wasn't good enough to be a Junior?] We were both frustrated, and more than a little disappointed. Hopefully, Dr. Peters had an answer for us, an answer that my husband and I wanted to hear.

[So, you're practically on the verge of losing your job and your lines of marital communication are a wee bit spotty. You should definitely have more children!]

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I feel like the plot is moving along a tad slow for my taste, but rest assured there is plenty of drama in store. Just to keep you panting for more, I will say that the sequel features two pregnancies, neither of which make it full-term, and neither of which belong to Jenna. Will that tide you over until next week?

On that note, Happy Easter!

Comments

[Silly Hily aka The Hilarazzi]

Don't even tell me that Jenna can't have anymore children so they ask Kayla (once they realize she's stalking them) to carry one for them and at that time Jenna decides to finally get revenge and plow a pregnant Kayla over with a car, making her "pop" and killing her "fetus." Cause that would be some craziness right there.
And I'm smelling some teenage pregnancy coming on. Kyle is going to get Katherine pregnant but the poor baby won't make it b/c INCEST just isn't meant to be.

If Jenna doesn't land this Folger's account, I think she's going to lose her shit.

It's okay that things are a little slow. I trust you Lil' Frema. All of the drama has to be set up appropriately.

[Molly]

"You're a pervert, just like your father was." Wrong on so many levels, Lil Frema. Hahaha Also, way to go on pulling infertility into the storyline. Always happy to see the infertiles representin!

Last but not least, I'm totally running my fingers through Kevin's hair tonight and telling him "nobody makes ribs like you baby" to see if it works. You might be on to something here...

[Carrisa]

As if ribs are just something that you can decide to make after work. Ha! If you want ribs that are any kind of good you have to either slow cook them all day or go out and eat them. I can't believe 14 yr old Frema didn't know that!

[TasterSpoon]

Oooh, an ad agency! It's so Melrose!

I like how Charleston Advertising isn't really "trustworthy" or "worthwhile"...and how none of their accounts yet have been "worthwhile" either. Sounds like they have a tough row to hoe with Folgers: "Aw, yeah, I guess it wouldn't KILL you to give us your business. We won't send you too many bogus bills, and frankly, none of our other accounts are really worth our time." C'mon, Jenna, if you're going to make coffee as soon as you get home anyway, at least pretend you're interested in the job and pick up some Folgers crystals.

[Frema]

Carrisa: Don't you be hatin' on lil' Frema. She was a writer, not a chef!

[TasterSpoon]

I had the same thought about the ribs.

[Audrey]

So what time does Jenna get home from work anyway? She came home to an empty house, and it wasn't until 5:00 that anyone else got home, despite the fact that the rest of her family members attend/work at school which usually gets out around 3:00ish, right? So why were they all so late getting home, and why was Jenny so early? And, furthermore, why is Michael teaching biology to elementary students? Isn't that more of a 9th-grade-level class?

Sorry to ask so many questions, but lil' Frema is confusing me this week. But she's entertaining me greatly at the same time, so it's all good!

[Frema]

Audrey: I wish I had answers to your questions! As a general rule, whenever you guys are confused by a plot point or an inconsistency, just keep in mind that lil' Frema was but a baby when she wrote this, and she had a hard enough time keeping the basic storyline straight herself. Don't get caught up in the unimportant details; she sure didn't!

[Rachel]

Ok, my three day weekend can not truely begin! Ok, so you caught the whole teaching teenagers in elementary school, but WTF are they doing teaching freakin biology in elementary school?? This is Iowa, right?

Jenna and Michael just seem to be getting smarter and smarter. Jenna could possibly lose her job, but, yeah, let's procreate...again!

I'm with Hil, Kyle will get Katherine pregnant and Jenna and Michael will raise the incestuous child because they can't have any more of their own. And, he will be named Michael, Jr.

Ahhh, TLF, you are full of twists and turns!

[Pink Herring]

I love how you just refer to him as "Crawford". I also love how Crawford fails to land any worthwhile accounts for five years, but has a secretary AND a personal assistant.

Also, the mention of personal assistant makes me cringe. If you need anybody to do any research for the third installment/prequel, just let me know. I am forever scarred by my two years as an "Executive Assistant"... aka, typist, doctor appointment maker, coffee-getter, and personal note taker.

[Isabel]

What I love is the dialogue between Jenna and Michael. I mean Lil Frema wouldn't really know how to write a conversation between adults. And maybe I'm the fool here, but my husand and I don't usually talk to each other while sitting on the bed holding hands and then end it with me playfully pushing him off the bed onto the floor. Yeah, my husband would not stand for that.

What I'm saying is I LOVE how Lil Frema writes for adults.

And I love that the company is Folgers Coffee. I think Lil Isabel would have picked something like Cabbage Patch Dolls. Lil Frema WAS way more mature then Lil Isabel.

I didn't read the link, but kids were doing it in shop class? I guess big machinary turns them on. Who can blame them. I know drilling make me hot.

(I said "drilling"!)

[Isabel]

Note to Pink Herring: Will you be my personal note taker? I have always wanted one of those.

First order of business, I need this note taken:

don't forget to go pee later. You keep forgetting and you're gonna end up with a UTI. And I hear those aren't fun.

P.S. don't get worms.

[MLE]

Man, the floor of the shop of my school was so disgusting. There's no way I'd get horizontal on that. And also, sixth graders? Doing it? Man, I must be old, but nobody *I* knew was doing it 'til 7th grade.

[VirginiaGal]

So when Katherine floats through the door Jenna doesn't even ask her what she's so happy about? That's just proof that Jenna doesn't love Katherine as much as she loves her biological children...because she's adopted and all (not to mention that Katherine's mother killed Jenna's unborn baby and her first baby daddy).

MLE: There was a girl in my 6th grade class with a child (or two), but she probably should have been in the 8th or 9th grade based on age.

Happy Easter everyone!

[Christine]

I had the question, too - Jenna gets home from work at 3, and the teacher/kids not until 5? That's pretty sweet!

I'm glad lil' Frema was as clueless as I was at that age.

[May]

I am totally with Isabel, my husband would not stand for the chat on the bed & then shove off to make dinner. If only he did.... But I'm glad that lil' Frema has Jenna & Mikey still in love & nice to each other, despite the pressure of 3 kids, crappy jobs, infertility, etc... I mean, haven't they been through enough? (Answer - no, we still have more sequel to go! Yay!)

[Sant]

Damn! That's harsh Frema, way to leave us hanging! As for the two pregnancies-- mmmmy guess is that one will belong to the two sixth graders-- wait, wait, that was Tragic Love Indy-- I take that back, the two pregnancies will be that of the brother/sister/auntie/uncle/mother/father team of Katherine and Kyle (the dolls), and Agatha and Mr. Crawford- because after all, he DID share the Folgers news with HER before he did Jenna-- that generally means they're having an affair. Right? At least that's what it means in MY office.

Though, this being the sequal, I doubt that Jenna will do any baby popping...although, Kayla, who I see as less than rehabilitated from her last crazy ass stint, with none other than Cassie "Was that a rabbit over there?" Donovan by her side, anything is possible... she may pop her grandchild, who knows? Only young Frema, that's who, and I know the dangers in trying to pick your brain. So I will sit and wait...

Happy Easter! Your mom bakes a ham!

[RebeccaB]

So I just found TLF today, and i've spent the entire day reading from chapter 1. Lil' Becca would have loved to write a story like this. I was always dreaming up silly stories when I was younger, now I wish I would have wrote them down!!