Betrayed

Susan Hettinger

March 15

After midnight

Dear Aggie,

I am so very sorry for the negative impact my recently published story “Betrayed” had on you. I never meant to violate your trust or hurt your feelings, but I understand that your concern is not about my intentions, it’s about the resulting emotions you experienced. I’m distressed that my story caused you pain. Since you told me of this yesterday, I’ve thought of little else. I’m upset, as I imagine you were when you read my piece. I respect your opinion and regret the unhappiness I inflicted.

Your loving, apologetic cousin,

Elise

March 16

9:15 a.m.

Aggie, now that I’ve slept on your feedback, I feel compelled to respond. “Betrayed” is not about you. I offer the following evidence:

  • Hot pink puffer jacket ≠ dark gray trench coat. Ask anyone. Like maybe the literary focus group you convened, consisting of the unemployed mothers of kids in Amos’s playgroup, who called my work “mean-spirited.”
  • My character Gemma, the isolated, languishing professor ≠ your neighbor Cletus, whom you apparently love dearly, otherwise you would not have tattooed his unfortunate name on your nether region.
  • Austin, home of the South by Southwest Festival ≠ Omaha, where you continue to “live.”
  • Janet the Cat bears only superficial similarity to your puppy Sparky.

See? Different.

Love to you, Joe, Cletus, and Amos, 

E.

March 16

8:56 p.m.

Agatha, 

Thanks for your very, very lengthy, heartfelt email. After due consideration, let me point out additional important dissimilarities between your experience and my creation that may have escaped your keen notice:

  • First, in your diatribe about your unfortunate incident with the coat, there’s a villain. It’s Cletus’s husband Larry, about whom you have complained for years. Frankly, I like the guy.
  • Second, in my story there are no characters with psoriasis, unlike the moms in Amos’s playgroup slash your literary critique group.

Still, I am heartily sorry for your grief, and humbly beg your pardon.

E.

March 20

Noonish

Agatha,

Thinking more about our phone conversation three days ago, I must mention:

  1. My chilly point-of-view character bears no physical or psychological similarity to you in your puffy pink parka, nor does your adorable puppy, Sparky, bear any resemblance to any creature in any story I have ever written, with the possible exception of Alice the goldfish, heroine of “Landlocked,” who meets her sad demise in a porcelain fixture.
  2. My invalid is a lonely, introverted person, not a chatty, voluble butt-insky who’s always up in everybody else’s business and couldn’t keep a confidence to save her life.
  3. In the anecdote you repeatedly related to me (sorry to bring this up, Agatha, but you did tell me this same yarn three separate times), Sparky pees on the neighbor’s lawn, but you were quite clear to distinguish urination from defecation. So there again, I see no similarity between your accounts and the pet poop plot of my story.

These factors cast doubt on your allegation that “Betrayed” (which has unfortunately already been published in a mid-range literary journal and can no longer be modified) was a wicked theft of an episode from your life related to me under some special privacy cloak.

As an artist, I must take inspiration where I find it.

E.

April 26

1:45 p.m.

Hey, Aggie – some good news! In my recent conversations with the editor of a “Best of” anthology that wants to pick up and reprint “Betrayed,” I have gained approval for minor edits I think can correct your pain points. How about:

  • Re-naming the cat. Any suggestions?
  • Moving the taco truck scene to Congress Avenue in downtown Austin to avoid any confusion with Omaha; and
  • Adding a dedication to your literary critique slash playgroup moms?

Please advise.

Your loving cousin,

Elise

Susan Hettinger, a Wyoming native and former attorney, lives and works in Olympia, Washington. She was shortlisted for the 2023 Bridport Prize, nominated for a Pushcart in 2022, and a finalist in the 2022 Tobias Wolff Award for Fiction. Her stories have appeared in Cagibi, The Madison Review, New World Writings, Fiction Factory, Scribble, Please See Me, Washington Law & Politics, Seattle Magazine, and The Ocotillo Review. She has studied creative writing at Hugo House, the University of Washington, and Bread Loaf Writers Conference, and is now an MFA student at Oregon State University.