Friday’s Child is Full Of…                                       

                                                                  By Jeff Baker

            “You’re kidding!” I said. “You’re not going in to work today because of the date?”

            “I’m not kidding,” Oscar said. “And I freelance; I really don’t have anywhere to go.”

            “If it was Friday the thirteenth, I suppose I could understand, but the sixth?” I said.

            “I’ve never had anything bad happen to me on Friday the thirteenth,” Oscar said, “but I’ve had a lot of things go bad the Friday before. Friday the sixth.”

            “So, you’re staying here?” I said. “In the apartment? All day?”

            “I’m not even going to go near the window,” Oscar said.

            “All the better to keep a gang of shadowy boogiemen from grabbing you and dragging you out into the street,” I said.

            “Lucaaaaas,’ Oscar said teasingly.

            “Well, I does sound silly,” I said sitting on the edge of the bed pulling on my pants. Oscar may have been skipping work, but I sure couldn’t. “I mean, you are the least superstitious person I know. Certainly the least superstitious I’m married to.”

            Oscar leaned over and kissed me. “Awwww! You are so sweet. But better safe than sorry.”

            “Remember how we met? You were in that diner, it was two in the morning and you were telling that story about taking the pictures of that burning building?” I said.

            “Oh, yeah,” Oscar said grinning.

            “And you hadn’t noticed your pants leg had caught fire,” I said. “And you were…”

            “I was sitting there at the counter and I stuck my leg out to show the girl behind the counter my singed jeans,” Oscar laughed. “And I didn’t see you there!”

            “Yeah, I walked right into it and almost tripped!” We kept laughing and lay down on the bed. “Anyway, the guy who does stuff like that shouldn’t be hiding out from the date.”

            “Better safe than sorry!” Oscar said, holding up one finger. “You sure you can’t stay?”

            “I’m sure,” I said kissing him. “I’ll be back this afternoon. I won’t be late!”

            “How ‘bout lunch?” Oscar asked.

            “Sure. Why don’t we meet at…oh, that won’t work,” I said. “I’ll bring us a couple burgers.”

            “Okay,” Oscar said. “Love you.”

            “Love you,” I said opening the door. “Happy Friday!”

                                                                —end—