Silver by A E Gamrat

Author:A E Gamrat
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2020-04-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

If I polish the wooden end table in my living room one more time, the top coat will be completely gone. As the hours of the day slowly tick away, my anxiety has gone from a tinge to out of control. I’ve baked, done a workout video, cleaned, and baked some more. Nothing is calming my knotted stomach, and my body will not let me sit still. Makes my “cleaning over bifocals” seem like a joke.

A chunk of me wants to call again. Demand why he never returned my message. To be a man and tell me that yesterday was a mistake. The young girl who dreamed about him being my knight won’t be able to bear it. She is scared of these answers and wants to stay in denial, not to acknowledge the possible bad what ifs. Instead I run around my house like a crazed maniac formulating one bad scenario after another.

Anne is a no go because she could either listen and be supportive or go right into how none of this is surprising. “All guys do this no matter how good you think they are or want them to be” she would say. Mom doesn’t know anything yet, and I don’t need her mouth blabbing any of my secrets to the world. I love her to death, but she talks and talks and talks. Most of the time I believe she doesn’t even realize what she is saying.

The unexpected storm that rolled in matched my day and mood. High winds, black clouds, and pelting rain ran through me as if I were the one conducting the orchestra of elements. Not to mention I could feed people for days with all the bread, cookies, and cupcakes I made. The rain kept me from going out to buy more containers, or there would’ve been more.

That's what I can do instead of polishing the wood again. I can go into the downstairs pantry to find more containers. I head toward the door to lock it before heading into the basement. The excursion could take a while since the downstairs pantry is my junk pantry. I'm always telling myself I will clean and organize the monstrosity on a free weekend, but you know, out of sight, out of mind and the next week begins.

My hand reaches for the latch when there’s a pounding on the other side. The sudden noise has me jumping two feet in the air, scaring the shit out of me. Who could be knocking on my door? No one shows up unannounced on a Sunday evening. Especially after a storm like the one that rolled past us.

There's more knocking as I stand stock still not knowing what to do. I'm not the woman always expecting danger, and I've always felt safe in this neighborhood and town, but this is completely unexpected. I might not have grown up on this side of town, but I've always been a part of this community to some degree.

The strikes are loud and purposeful.

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