Oh fuck, another Valentine's Day. When I was a kid, there was an old song on the radio called "Alone Again" by Gilbert O'Sullivan. Well, that's me. Valentine's Day and I'm alone again. Fuck it, I really hate Valentine's Day. The fucking cards, the wrapping the little "I love you" and "Be my Valentine" and other bullshit cards. I'm over it. The last four years have been fucking awful, all centered on Valentines Day.
2019, I found out my then wife, a bitch who disappeared with all our savings in November the previous year, was in Reno, that's where the divorce papers came from anyway. Accompanying that was a photo of her and her new boyfriend, she couldn't resist that last jab.
2020, Covid.
2021, car was stolen, from a "secure" parking lot. I had to explain to police that I wasn't anywhere near the car when it was used as a getaway vehicle and later found burnt out, completely wrecked. Then I learned my insurance had expired.
2022, the pipes in my apartment froze and burst, wrecking the bathroom and my miserable landlord blamed me, refused to fix it and only relented when threatened with legal action. He knew he was responsible for that, so he got the absolute cheapest repair job done which left the pipes exposed with only a minimum of insulation. I am now expecting the pipes to freeze again.
Now this year, wonder what the fuck is going to wreck Valentine's Day.
The next couple of weeks are going to be a pain, but if I don't top myself because of extreme nausea then I can make it through another year. Go to work, do my job, wash dishes, do my laundry, watch some porn and play with my dick, and that's about it until after Valentine's Day. How boring. Maybe a hooker, if I can be bothered. Nah, too impersonal for me, I really do need a connection with a woman.
I work in a government office, not telling you which one, but I can say that watching people around me being fucking stupid about government workers is not helping me do my job. One woman interviewed said we should all be sacked, then apply to get our jobs back. As long as we were not black or gay or lesbian, or ethnic we should be okay, fucking hell, how stupid is that? Okay, okay, getting off it now, moving on.
So the days are passing, and Valentine's Day is tomorrow, a Tuesday this year. I'm in my office and a fellow office worker, Mike, presents himself and asks if I got time for a quick conversation?
"Sure," I said, glad of the interruption.
"What are you doing on tomorrow night?"
Strange question. He knows my situation and I wouldn't think that he would need to ask. "Fuck all actually, maybe the dishes."
Mike smiled "That's good, maybe you would like dinner with Tammy and me?"
I was surprised, "Mike, it's Valentine's Day, why would you invite me to dinner with your wife?"
"Tammy knows you're on your own and she thinks it's a good idea for you to be outside your apartment, in our company."
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Mike. What does Tammy think? That I'm going to jump off the roof or something?"
"Nah, not at all, but now that you mention it-," he smiled. I knew his sense of humor, or rather what he called a sense of humor.
"Oh fuck off," I laughed, "Fucking busy bodies, the pair of you."
"So that means you're coming then?"
"Oh okay, you talked me into it," I replied, "Tell Tammy though it took you an hour to get me to agree."
Mike and Tammy have been friends of mine for about ten years now. Mike and I started in this office at the same time. He and Tammy had married the previous year and this was a good, secure position for him. They both worked hard and I know Mike had a second job at one point, using the extra money to help them get a small house. Still didn't have any kids, but it's not like they were in any hurry to, the mortgage was still a little too much for Tammy to take time off work.
They helped me through my divorce, when the bitch took off with whatever she could get out of the apartment in one day. I couldn't give a fuck, so on Valentine's Day four years ago, I was divorced. She already had everything. While I could have made a big song and dance about it, I would have to go to Reno and I just couldn't be bothered. Talk about depression.
Tuesday came and the day was over. I went home, cleaned up a bit and at seven o'clock, I was ringing the doorbell at Mike's.
The door opened and there was Tammy, and wow, she looked fabulous. Soft red hair flowed over her bare shoulders, ample cleavage in a low top, tight, and short, dress revealing all her curves. "Come in, come in, it's cold out." It was.
"Hi Tammy," I said, but was interrupted by this hug. I felt her arms around me, her tits pressed into my chest and I am pretty sure I felt her hips push into my thighs. Oh, she it not much shorter than me, not that I am all that tall, Mike is taller by about two inches. She is quite shapely, and very attractive. I have, however, never been greeted like this before.
My coat disappeared, and the house was quite warm, full of the aroma of good home cooking. Mike opened the bottle of white wine I brought, my logic being there were three people and two glasses of wine were not going to hurt too much. The discussion was good, talking about weather, politics, sports, the Djokovich's recent Australian Open Tennis win, the Chiefs' Superbowl come from behind win, work, people in general. The food Tammy laid out was amazing, I have no idea how she does it. She must have been cooking when she got home. Anyway, the meal was absolutely scrumdiddiliumptuous. Each course was served, not large servings, but there was appetizers, an entree, a soup, then a small fish, grilled, followed by a smallish steak with side serving of vegetables and a small salad. A serving of cheeses soft and hard, and topped off with a small, sweet, chocolate mousse. After that, we retired to a less formal lounge for coffee and more talking.
As usual, Tammy had provided such a wonderful meal in the French style, even if the dishes were not traditionally French. We talked for a bit more and Mike got a bit quiet then. Tammy sat opposite me, and would occasionally move, her short skirt riding up, wtf? All through the meal, I had the impression that Tammy was paying far more attention to me than Mike. Usually she is balanced in this, but tonight she really wasn't.
"I know this is a week night," Tammy said uncrossing her legs, seeming to give me a small flash, the crossing them again, "But Wednesdays are not usually busy and there is a huge favor we would like to ask you."
I looked at Mike and he just nodded, "I'm going to let Tammy explain, then we can take it from there." Mike didn't look overly perturbed.
"Well, I think it would be easier if Mike explained what we would like from you," Tammy looked at Mike, then nodded, "As we agreed."
Mike said nothing and I was really intrigued now. I had no idea of what the fuck was going on, Tammy flashing me occasionally, Mike not saying anything, her paying a lot more attention to me than him. This was getting seriously weird. I could have said something, but Mike usually comes to saying what he is thinking in his own time.
Mike stirred and took a deep breath letting it out slowly. I knew this was really important now and he was going to be as honest as he could.
"Okay, Mark," he started, "A while ago we decided we wanted a baby."
"Oh wow, that's great. So you're pregnant?" I asked Tammy. She looked away and I though what the fuck? I bit off the 'congratulations' comment that usually followed a confirmation. She wasn't.