Cacophony by L. Marie Wood

Author:L. Marie Wood [,]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781736850138
Publisher: Cedar Grove Publishing

Chapter Tirty-Eight

“I know! She called me yesterday to go with her to the bank.”

“The bank? Who even goes to the bank anymore?” “I know, right?”

“Did you go?”

“No! I mean, come on, Michelle. We can’t just drop everything and cluster together to do every little thing,” Carly, a thirty-something mom dressed in the stay-at-home parent uniform of the suburbs (a loose- fitting top with yoga pants and flip flops) took a break in her diatribe to look out at the kids who are playing together nicely in the backyard. A rueful smile formed at the corners of her mouth. She wondered how long it would be before elated giggles turn into shrill screams. “This isn’t the ‘50s,” she continued, “We don’t have to huddle together, holding hands to go to the bathroom.”

Carly took a sip of her coffee and looked out at the kids again.

Michelle, similar attire, similar posture, similar everything, took a sip of her coffee too.

Gabby watched them absently, fondling the handle of her own brew. She heard the kids, voices interspersed between the mom chatter and the Jhene Aiko playing in the background. Gabby caught the lyrics of “While We’re Young” and mouthed them over her mug, curses and all. She hoped her friends didn’t hear - she didn’t feel like turning the music off even if it was in direct conflict with her current state of baby watching. Sometimes, especially in moments filled with laughing children, moms with fly-aways and messy buns stacked on their heads, and the intoxicating smell of diaper rash cream and fresh coffee swirling in the air - during those times, when Gabby couldn’t distinguish herself in the crowd - then, she needed a little something cool, edgy, fun, something decidedly different from that moment in her life to call her back from the edge. Listening to music with curses in it - actually saying the curses in front of a mixed audience, albeit low low low, did the trick… sometimes.

Gabby sipped her coffee loudly, slurping, not caring, as she sang along and dreamed of the beach, sun on her neck, and running in the sand, a sarong flapping around her in the breeze.

The beach.

The sun.

Her neck.

Gabby felt a smile settle on her lips. She shot a quick glance over to the moms at the playdate (damn the person who came up with that term). They were engrossed in conversation about the killer and all the things people were doing to safeguard themselves. Gabby knew she should be listening. It wasn’t like the situation didn’t affect her. She still felt a chill run up her spine when she thought about her own supermarket incident, so Gabby understood why the killer/stalker situation was being discussed in her kitchen over a cup of coffee… again. But right now, the beach called to her, the sound of the waves, the sun setting on the horizon, the warm breeze blowing through her hair. It would be time to go inside now, Gabby thought. Past time. To see the sunset was to linger too long to be safe anymore.

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