Opinionated
My entry into Nikki-Fox's unlikely pairing contest. I never partake in those things, but this time an idea just jumped in my head like that, and I knew I had to get busy. I invite anyone to join in on the fun and write a couple as outrageous as the one below. Otherwise, just try to enjoy reading this.
The high-pitched shriek coming from the kitchen was her cue. The couch sighed in relief as the plump woman rose and high-heeled to answer the noise. She rescued the boiling teapot from the stove, and the ear-splitting scream slowly died out. Just in time, or the sound would've drowned out the ringing doorbell.
Leaving her tea, Sheila sped for the second commotion. She walked past the living room's stern white wallpaper, dressed in calligraphic roses, and past the many frames holding pictures of her two sons.
She straightened her bun of red hair before opening the door. On the front step stood a young lady, dressed in a purple that screamed intelligence, and an amethyst beret that whispered pomposity.
"Top of the day, Mrs Broflovski," she called with a smile. "Is Kyle here? We're supposed to be finishing our report."
Sheila plucked at her thick blue pullover, tugging loose a dot of wool. "I'm sorry Wendy, but Kyle hasn't been home yet. I'm expecting him any minute now." She then stepped from the door, allowing her guest a view into the house. "You want to wait inside? I was just making tea."
Wendy nodded, and followed the rosy woman into the living room. She took one glance at the fluffy carpet and realized she'd better take off her shoes, then took a spot on the couch Sheila pointed out.
The hostess jotted back to the kitchen to snatch the teapot. As she reached for cups she called out to the visitor. "So what are you kids doing a project about?"
"It's an extracurricular assignment," Wendy replied. "We're going to write an entire article that challenges the second amendment. We'll even go as far as to try and get it published state-wide."
The voice from the kitchen came loaded with excitement. "That's a noble cause indeed. It's great to hear such a degree of involvement. I've been pushing the school board for years trying to stimulate more political action from the students."
"You don't say," Wendy said, rolling her eyes. Her entire grade was only all too familiar with 'Kyle's mom'. The kids actually had the verb 'to sheila' when a peer ever made a big ado about nothing. When Wendy told them it was great the woman let herself be heard, and that she found it inspiring, kids would put a hand on her forehead and check her temperature. After all, what girl would take an interest to politics when the pleasures of booze and boys were theirs to claim?
"Well of course," Sheila appeared from the kitchen, bearing a tray with two cups of tea against her firm chest. "It's important for our children to be involved in affairs. You will be building our futures, after all. It's splendid that you are already doing your part."
"Thanks," Wendy replied. She stared tugging down her skirt uneasily. Somehow she felt it was getting stared at. Maybe Mrs Broflovski would think it was too short and disapprove. For reasons beyond her grasp, Sheila's approval had a world of importance right now.
"You just know these townspeople are complete ignoramuses," Sheila continued. "I was at the mayor's last week, because none of my letters were being answered. I wanted to put forward the creation of our local news channel. So much things happening in South Park every day, the citizens need to be informed." she put one of the cups to her pudgy lips and took a sip. "But they just laughed in my face."
"The nerve of them." In a spasm, Wendy shot her arm and let her skirt flutter up, revealing a spot of pink panties. The awkward rushed into her face, and she fiercely hoped that the woman hadn't noticed.
If she had, she was ignoring it, because her chatter never missed a beat. "And last month I had to blow off the rally for education for the town's less fortunate, because only one volunteer replied."
"I know," Wendy stated, "that was me."
"It was?" A phantom of delight played up across her eyes. She was regarding the girl with a whole new adoration. "Well, at least there's somebody else that cares about the sake of the town. I find it impossible to find any active support these days. I'm just powerless." Then pulled her cherub cheeks into a smile. "Then again, sadly I don't have a young lady's charm anymore, unlike you."
Wendy felt her own face flush. "I- I suppose," she muttered, letting a quick hand ghost through her hair.
"All the more power to you. Women just aren't being listened to in today's world. In spite of our efforts, we still have to live by all these stigmas."
"Exactly," Wendy spoke quickly, glad to find something they could fervidly agree on. "There's still so many double standards. Like, women still have to work twice as hard as men to land any sort of managing function. Or like, when you see all these older men dating young girls-"
The older activist cut in, "-yes, but when a woman wants to date a younger girl everybody would say it's immoral."
Wendy let her mouth hang agape, stupidly. Quickly she shook her head and gathered her words. "Right. Not exactly what I meant to say, but right."
"It is our duty to eradicate such prejudices from the world. We can't allow such twisted morals to live on any longer."
She felt the gush of warmth before anything else, and she may have thought she had just found a sister in arms. It took her extra seconds to realize Sheila's hand had found its way to her upper leg. Wendy barely suppressed a stutter. "Definitely. We should make a statement."
"We should make a statement right now."
"It's our plight." Wendy shifted a bit closer to her side of the couch. The tea was abandoned.
The woman tilted her head sideways. "We owe it to the future."
They embraced. Willful, wanton and deliberate. Wendy futilely tried to wrap her slender arms around the housewife's massive waist. Greasy red lipstick smeared over the girl's mouth. Despite Sheila's faded youth, or maybe because of it, her kiss was nothing less than ardent.
It took a few seconds for the spots to vanish in front of Wendy's eyes. Speech returned to her throat, and she beamed.
"That'll show 'em,"
I have the 'Kyle's mom' song stuck in my head now.