Dreaming of Antigone by Robin Bridges

Author:Robin Bridges [Bridges, Robin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2016-02-05T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

I walk slowly, taking a quieter street off Milledge, with less traffic. I don’t want to have to pay too much attention to where I’m going. I want to remember every second of Alex’s kiss. My kiss. I did kiss him first, after all, and oh my God, what does he think of me now? He seemed to enjoy it, but what if he was just being nice?

That is probably what he wants to talk about. I’m certain he didn’t appreciate being mauled by the girl with epilepsy and wants to make sure it never happens again. Maybe I’m a horrible kisser, and it will give him nightmares. I don’t want to be the cause of any nightmares. Or of scarring someone for life.

But I am a terrible person. He was my twin sister’s boyfriend. He’s not ready for dating again. I took advantage of him and kissed him because I wanted to. I wanted him. And that is one of the most selfish things I’ve ever done.

Before I realize it, I’m already turning on to Azalea Cove, and before long, I see our driveway. Mom’s car is gone. She must still be at the office. I dig my key from the bottom of my purse and unlock the door.

Sophie is waiting for me, but with less than her normal tail wagging and enthusiastic jumping around. “I love you too,” I say, reaching down to scratch her ears. She follows me through the kitchen to the back door, where I let her out into the yard.

I grab a can of Diet Coke from the fridge and follow her outside. I can see that Mom has been digging in the flower beds today, probably trying to distract herself from everything going on with Craig. The wheelbarrow has been left out, along with a stack of huge bags of mulch and compost. Looks like she only got as far as weeding out the dead plants from last year. The sprayer that she uses to fumigate the yard for fleas every spring is lying on the ground. I pick it up and set it on the wheelbarrow.

She has never been content to keep just the front yard looking nice. The backyard has always looked like a magazine cover too. Sweeping beds full of annuals and flowering shrubs. A patch of white heavily scented flowers surrounding a gazebo in the back corner for a moon garden. Even the patio has perfectly arranged large pots of flowers and a few palm trees to sit under.

Sophie brings me an old favorite toy, her blue squeaky. I toss it across the yard for her to chase.

She brings it back, slowly this time, as I let her lie down at my feet to catch her breath. “Good girl,” I say, letting her keep the squeaky for a while.

But she’s not ready to go back inside when I get up.

She looks at me and lays her head back down on top of her paws.

“Sophie?”

Her only answer is a soft whimper.

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