Mark was 29

This is just a little nugget of a story I was playing with.  I like it.  I might attempt to finish it someday.

Mark Noonan was not a young man.  Clocking in at just under thirty, the realization hit him that he was no longer young.  It hit him harder than he would have expected.  He never gave much thought to aging and certainly did nothing to cling to his wonder years.  He looked forward too, even embraced change, but something about turning 29 just wasn’t sitting right.  And it bothered him.  Was it vanity?  No.  If that were the case he’d be able to stick with his resolution to exercise more.  No, it wasn’t physical issues that gave him pause; though he did wonder if the corners of his hair line had always gone back that far.  It was something else.  Something he couldn’t define.  Most of the time he could wave these thoughts away, but on that day they were showing him a persistence he hadn’t yet seen.

The morning in question began like any other.  Seven minutes before 7:00 his phone lit up and whined a greeting.  He reached over to snooze the devise, taking care in his sleepy state not to accidentally dismiss the stalwart alarm thereby making him late.  Mark wasn’t too concerned about rolling into work a few minutes late, but it wouldn’t do for Mallory.  She wanted to be on-time, early if at all possible. (It wasn’t.)  He found her earnestness in this matter cute, if not a little out of character.  Alliteration aside, Mark and Mallory were an excellent couple.  Though their differences were legion, they struck a balance that worked wonderfully.  They put up with each others malfunctions and not only were they in love, but they liked each other too.  In Mark’s mind they had the kind of marriage and partnership that was to be emulated.  While Mallory’s parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles were all still happily married to their original spouse the only stable marriage in Mark’s family was his own.  He grew up knowing exactly what he didn’t want out of life and against the odds had thus far managed to avoid it.  He loved his wife.  If that was all he had, it would have been enough.  It was not all he had.  As his whining cell phone was quick to remind him, he also had a job that he was now 10 minutes closer to.  As if on cue, the playful combination of barks and scratches let him know that he also had a dog.  Archibald knew that the second time he heard the high pitched sound his living room banishment would soon be over and his two favorite people would soon scratch his head and let him out to bound in the new-fallen snow.  Mark was tempted to gingerly hit snooze one more time, but knew it would prove futile.  Arch was ready to play and Mallory was reluctantly stirring in preparation to move to her closet and hate all of her clothes.  It was a new day. 

Arch was in rare form.  Mark had barely opened the door and Arch was already on the bed making sure Mallory knew he was there. He bent down to stroke Troy, Arch’s brother from a feline mother.  As he surveyed the living room it became clear that while the Noonan’s slept Arch and a reluctant Troy had turned the pleasant room into some sort of Speak-easy.  The couch cushions were escew, dog food was scattered all over and the latest issue of TV Guide was now a festive confetti.  It must have been a hell of a night.  Mark’s first instinct was to be mad.  They knew the rules.  But, boys will be boys.  No harm no foul.  He knew Mallory would be less understanding.  As Troy cozied up on the windowsill, Mark quickly tidied the room and jumped in the shower reminding himself to sit the boys down and give them a stern talking to.  This kind of behavior would not be tolerated.

Arch knew he was in trouble.  He knew that the look-how-cute-I-am gambit would fail, but he also knew he had to try.  He was laying it on thick with Mallory. Putting his head on her stomach and looking up at her with his precious little eyes.  Licking her hands as she tried to scratch behind his ears.  Ultimately it would prove futile.  Mark would fall prey to his roguish charm.  Mallory saw right threw it.  He knew this and yet he pressed on.  It was now a numbers game.  Sooner or later the kitchen floor would dry and she’d never know that had grown impatient in the night.  He had to keep her in the bedroom for as long as possible.  Unfortunately for Arch, Mallory’s suspicions and punctuality gave her the strength to get out of the warm bed and tramp to the coffee maker.  Arch had to act fast.  He knew  his cuteness alone wasn’t enough to stop her, but if he could coax Troy into playing along…  His scheming was interrupted by her exasperated call.  “Achibald come!” Mallory beckoned.  He pretended he needed to do some scratching, but even he knew it was weak. “Archibald! I said come.”  Reluctantly he did so.   As he trotted into the Kitchen he could have sworn he caught a smirk of satisfaction on Troy’s feline lips, but he knew that was absurd.  Troy was just a cat.

As Mark turned off the shower he heard Arch being scolded, but he couldn’t make out specifics.  He was certain Arch would rat him out.  Mallory walked in to brush her teeth.  Mark expecting an accusation gave her a smile and casually dried himself.  She smiled back and loaded her tooth brush with paste, giving him a lecherous glance in the mirror.  He returned the look and gave her cute little butt a pinch as he passed, thinking he’d gotten away.  As he turned the turned the corner Malloy, betraying nothing, said “You forgot the kitchen.”  Check and mate.   Yes, it was a morning like any other, and Mark was 29.

Mark and Mallory lived in a small town.  Not small as in “We only have one movie theatre, can you believe it?” but rather small meaning “Let’s take a day-trip to Wal-Mart.”  One of the perks of small town living was that their house was in walking distance of their jobs.  In this morning, like any other, they drove.  Though she avoided it in most other situations, Mallory was behind the wheel for the morning commute.  This allowed her to drop Mark off at the library then park nice and close to her office building.  Mallory worked as the registrar of a small college, the same college where she and Mark had attended.  They had been college sweethearts and were married during her senior year, much to the panic of her parents.  To say that Mallory enjoyed her job, might be overstating things just a bit.  She was good at her job.  She enjoyed aspects of her job.  But as a whole, there were about a million other things she’d rather do.  As usually Mallory was the first of her office mates to arrive.  She traced the familiar pattern of opening the office, then sat at her desk, turned on her computer and began her day.  A day that would include stretches of busyness, followed by endless patches of boredom, intermixed with worrying about the Noonan budget and scattered trips to the coffee shop to load up.  While Mallory’s job had its share of stress, she was able to leave that on her desk when 5:00 hit… a skill Mark had yet to master.