Most people expect the weather to be nice and cool in the spring-
time. But in Texas--except for the summer months--the weather rarely
meets anyone's expectations. It was the seventh of May. Clouds were
scarce, and the temperature was eighty-nine degrees. Eddie was thank-
ful that the a/c in his aging Dodge Dart still had some life in it.

He was also thankful that it was Friday. He and his girlfriend, Tina,
had just left the bank where they cashed their paychecks. A couple of blocks
down the street, just past Lanyard's grocery, the light turned red, and they
pulled to a stop.

As they waited for the light to change, a pregnant woman happened
to enter the crosswalk. She was about nineteen or twenty and slender, so the
expansion of her abdomen wasn't too conspicuous. Her swollen breasts, on
the other hand, were so large that they appeared to be trying to break out of
the prison of her t-shirt. Eddie couldn't help watching as she walked along
past the front of his car.

"Damn! Did you see the size of those udders?" he said.

"Eddie, she's pregnant!" Tina exclaimed, "You're sick. I can't be-
lieve you're ogling a pregnant woman's boobs."

"I didn't say she made me horny. Besides, I was just looking, not
ogling. How could a guy not notice something like that, anyway?"

"I still think you're sick."

"OK, Tina…so, if you were pregnant, I suppose you'd expect me
to ignore your tits?"

"That's different," she replied.

"Uh-huh. That's what I thought," Eddie said with a smirk.

"You're such a prick!" Tina spat.

Eddie laughed all the way to the next stop light, while Tina glared at
him, hot with anger. The air conditioner took the edge off of it, but he knew
she was the type to neither forgive nor forget even a minor affront.

He considered it fortunate that Tina wasn't pregnant. The ups and
downs of their laborsome, yearlong relationship seemed less predictable
than the weather, but Eddie figured it was only a matter of time before they
broke up. The big question was when, and it hovered over him just like the
unforgiving sun beating down on the roof of that old, beat-up Dodge.


© by Jack T. Marlowe

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