“I hate getting old,” Faith said hitting Edward in the arm as they waited for their ice cream cones.   

     “So why you hitting me. It’s not my fault. Blame hubby, Mike.”

     Edward never could figure out these outbursts from Faith. They came at the oddest time without any warning and always off topic. But, as all things with long time friends he had come to accept them and all her other quirks, moods, and personas. He knew he still got the best deal in this friendship. She had loads more than he did to put up with.

     “No! I can’t remember the last time you were here,” Faith said frustrated.

     Edward gave a heavy sigh and held the door for her and her son, Noah as they stepped to the sidewalk. “Man, you got to keep a diary, Faith. I don’t where, when, how, or why I’ve been any place with my schedule.” He paused a moment and added, “I don’t know. Maybe October?”

     His job as a freelance writer and photographer kept the frequent flyer miles pilling up. He took almost any assignment and his editors and clients knew they could count on him for any job they had. Faith enjoyed his stories from the road and hearing the adventures her kids

and husband, Mike, her job at the paper, the dog, a cat, three birds, soccer, piano lessons, and . . . and . . . kept her from having. The kids loved his stories and pictures and the occasional gifts he would bring.    

     “Oh yeah, that makes great sense. Keep a diary, as if I have time to do that.”

     “More than I do” Edward said hitting her back.

     They jabbered on bouncing from subject to subject.

     “You two are screwy” Noah said almost embarrassed to be seen with them. At eight years old he had seen the two of them have these verbal monologues and battles often. Having the ‘Edster’ around was fun, though. He brought out silliness in his mother he and his older brother and sister didn’t see at home very often.

     “Age is killing brain cells,” Faith said as they walked.

     “Yeah, and in you case the death of one is an Armageddon” he said with a smirk and high-five to Noah.

     “You should talk, oh ye of the 900 SAT.”

     “Eat Me!”

     “No thanks. I have a cone.”

     Noah slowed down to let them get ahead of him ----

Far Ahead!!

 

End