The precipitations of Autumn

It was a Saturday pouring day, the winter was coming and in New England they had one of the last days of rain and thunders before the snow comes. It was so pouring that the childless Robinson family decided to stay home for the weekend. Mr. Robinson is a contractor and he knows what he does. He can do whatever whoever wants him to do in metal or wood. He is 32 years old and he likes the way his life is ruled. In the other hand, Mrs. Robinson is sometimes sad for what she does. She has a journalist bachelor that she got at University of New Haven but she is now a housekeeper and has to stay at home doing the laundry, the dishes and everything a good woman of her family could do. Sometimes she talks with herself when she is alone in the house vacuuming the carpet of the living room, she usually thinks about what her life would have been if she had never married. She would be working in a journal and looking at her name every day in the newspaper stand. The last time she grabbed a pencil was when she was trying to start a book, but she committed the error of telling her husband about her idea. He got mad and told her that he would get all the money necessary for the house; that he works very hard every day and he deserves a little more respect. She said it was ok, but the truth is that she was sad, very sad.

The heat of the house was increasing constantly as the temperature dropped. The house was getting hot and the temperament between Mrs. and Mr. Robinson was also getting more precarious as Mrs. Robinson was thinking in leaving her husband to enroll in the adventure of journalism. She never had the guts to confront him, but she felt like her way of life was taking her and in some years she would not be able to enlace a beautiful phrase,

-“Writing is like a garden, you have to water it or otherwise is going to die” her mother told her. Her mother also took an important point: “take advantage that you do not have kids yet; when you had them you will not be able to divorce your husband”.

One day she decided to take action and tell her concerns to her husband. It was a Sunday and Mrs. Robinson just finished doing the dishes when Mr. Robinson suddenly appeared in the kitchen to grab a can of beer.

-Sundays are nice, aren’t they? No work and shared time.

-They sure are, Said Mr. Robinson.

-The funny thing is that every day is the same for me, I always do the same.

-What do you mean?

-I have been thinking it; I want to look for a job as a journalist.

-You know that I do not support that idea. Forget that.

-If you haven’t noticed it yet, I haven’t asked for you permission.

Mr. Robinson didn’t say anything and went to watch TV with his beer. She followed him, she started and she couldn’t stop it right there. She took the remote and turned off the TV.

-I really want to do this, Charley.

-Look for a job; we will talk when you find one.

-Will you support me?

-I guess

-No matter what happens?

-What do you mean?

Mrs. Robinson started to cry remembering the words of her mother.

-What did I say? Asked Mr. Robinson.

-I was so close, sob Mrs. Robinson.

-What do you mean? I said I will support your decision.

-I am pregnant.