InsideV by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-05-11T17:39:58+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Build-Up

My navy blue Volkswagon Passat sits parked in the driveway of our home in Studio City like this is any other weekday and my husband hasn’t been missing for close to forty-eight hours. Around this time of day, before the trial, I would be in the kitchen trying out some new quick and easy dish I’d found on the Internet or if Grant called and said he’d be late, I’d curl up on the couch with a glass of Merlot, prepping for classes or grading papers. At four in the afternoon, thanks to fall back hours, the sky is practically dusk. No children are out playing on the sidewalks being yelled at by their parents to come indoors, still hours shy of the 9 to 5 nightly joggers who dart in and out of sight in their reflective workout gear.

Routine is the pulse of any neighborhood and I’m nearly convinced I can pull off entering my own home without being seen, having driven here in the wrong car.

Mrs. Wilkes in the knee-length housecoat might be a problem. She is staring at me from across the street, a couple houses down, a limp garden hose in her hand. As an eyewitness, I could blindside her. First, since Grant and I moved in, she’s had a stroke or two. Her vision is faulty and at eighty-one so is her mind. If pressed, I’m sure I could convince her she got the dates mixed up of when she saw me drive up in my husband’s car when I’m supposed to be on vacation. She doesn’t know I’m supposed to be away, but the cops would inform her should it come to that.

A small white mini-truck, the useless kind that can’t haul much more than a couple of 2 X 4’s, inches by before speeding up, the driver apparently mistaking the directions. Construction work is constantly going on in our neighborhood—new pools, another room addition, maybe even a small guesthouse. Only a few miles from Universal Studios, movie people with high paying jobs who want to live like the rest of us plant roots here. They spend so much money improving their homes they may as well have plunked down the cash upfront for a bigger spread hidden up in a curve on Laurel Canyon Boulevard.

Mrs. Wilkes sets down the hose, now fussing over a bed of daffodils. Too much time has been spent focusing on a nosy old widow.

I face the reason why I’m back. I face my house, the porch steps, the clay potted cactus on the top step with its one stiff blooming pink flower Grant bought me because everything I attempt to grow withers no matter the amount of sunlight or how often I water it. Envelopes peek out of the mailbox. The welcome mat is slightly askew like someone, maybe the mailman, turned too fast on it after dropping off our bills.

The sadness is overwhelming, it’s bone deep. For once I’m not expecting my husband to come home. I don’t know for sure if he’s even still alive.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.