clean like prescriptions, not cigarettes.
I find Clint’s card and pin it up on the bulletin board at the kitchen desk. If I’m going to stay here, some updating will be in order. It’s my house, after all. I can do whatever I want with it. I jam another pin into the opposite corner of the card and laugh at how Jason thought it was a crazy idea to buy Sean out of this house. I still wanted a place to call home. Jason said we were never planning on coming home.
Oh, Jason…a liar, a cheater, and an idiot.
The past few weeks’ mail is piled on the counter next to a shoebox-size package from Violet, one of my favorite college roommates. Violet has a way of making everywhere she goes feel like home. She’s traditional in an uncommon way.
I throw out the two letters addressed in Jason’s handwriting and rip open the box to find a small stuffed doll with jeans, a button-down, short black hair, and cowboy boots Violet has drawn on with a marker. The doll has a large hat pin sticking out of his stomach. There’s a card in the box that reads:
When all else fails,
Try voodoo.
Love you more than anything,
Violet
It’s completely disturbing and brings a smile to my face as I remove the pin and place it in the groin. I pull it out and shove it in the doll’s heart. I stare at it for a moment, still not satisfied. I pull it out and stick it back to the groin again. “I’m going to need another pin.” I leave the doll on the table and walk to the bathroom.
I throw my clothes on the floor and ease into the tub, still sore from last night. My aching body adjusts to the feel of the cold water as I hear the phone ring. I’m not getting it. Margo’s voice fills the air:
“Hey, Charlotte, heads-up. My cousin just told me her friend saw you in the Ocean Drive. Her friend is Janice Harding, as in Stephanie Harding’s sister.”
This town should be its own news media outlet. Margo, who now lives in Colorado but is visiting New Jersey, just heard that someone saw me ninety miles away out in public and might tell someone fifteen hundred miles away about it. It’s not even two o’clock the next day. I couldn’t care less what they say. Let Stephanie Harding know that this show is going to go on. It’s going to be an R-rated memoir of a defeated, downtrodden statistician who used drugs to numb the pain—I hope—but it’s going to go on.
I sink deeper in the tub and try to figure out what I’m doing to keep myself busy the next few hours. Maybe clean the house. Some exhaustion will help me sleep, too. I close my eyes and let the cool water cover me like a blanket over my aching body.
My eyes pop open; there’s no peace here.
Impatient with my convoluted relaxation, I wrap myself in a towel. The phone rings again and I almost pick it up without looking, assuming it’s Margo, but the Oklahoma number catches my eye and I drop it like a burning ember.
“I know I’m not supposed to call you.” His voice is rough and barely in control. “I’m sorry. For calling…and everything else.” There’s a pause and I close my eyes and listen to his breath on the machine. “Stephanie told me you were in Sea Isle this weekend and…” He chokes up a little. Her name from his lips rips me in half. My body trembles as I shake my head. “And…I just wanted to tell you we’re going to be together again soon. Don’t be with anyone else. Don’t meet anyone. Please, Annie.”
Un-fucking-believable. The chick he cheated on me with tells him I’m out having fun and he has the nerve to call and ask me to stop? It’s like he can’t breathe without pissing me off.
“I promise I won’t call again,” he starts as I pick up the answering machine and hurl it against the wall, smashing it into a million jagged pieces of plastic. I wish he’d been here to aim at. I take a deep breath and snort it out my nose. He’s a bigger ass than I realized. I storm back to the kitchen and tear open the silverware drawer. I yank out a
I find Clint’s card and pin it up on the bulletin board at the kitchen desk. If I’m going to stay here, some updating will be in order. It’s my house, after all. I can do whatever I want with it. I jam another pin into the opposite corner of the card and laugh at how Jason thought it was a crazy idea to buy Sean out of this house. I still wanted a place to call home. Jason said we were never planning on coming home.
Oh, Jason…a liar, a cheater, and an idiot.
The past few weeks’ mail is piled on the counter next to a shoebox-size package from Violet, one of my favorite college roommates. Violet has a way of making everywhere she goes feel like home. She’s traditional in an uncommon way.
I throw out the two letters addressed in Jason’s handwriting and rip open the box to find a small stuffed doll with jeans, a button-down, short black hair, and cowboy boots Violet has drawn on with a marker. The doll has a large hat pin sticking out of his stomach. There’s a card in the box that reads:
When all else fails,
Try voodoo.
Love you more than anything,
Violet
It’s completely disturbing and brings a smile to my face as I remove the pin and place it in the groin. I pull it out and shove it in the doll’s heart. I stare at it for a moment, still not satisfied. I pull it out and stick it back to the groin again. “I’m going to need another pin.” I leave the doll on the table and walk to the bathroom.
I throw my clothes on the floor and ease into the tub, still sore from last night. My aching body adjusts to the feel of the cold water as I hear the phone ring. I’m not getting it. Margo’s voice fills the air:
“Hey, Charlotte, heads-up. My cousin just told me her friend saw you in the Ocean Drive. Her friend is Janice Harding, as in Stephanie Harding’s sister.”
This town should be its own news media outlet. Margo, who now lives in Colorado but is visiting New Jersey, just heard that someone saw me ninety miles away out in public and might tell someone fifteen hundred miles away about it. It’s not even two o’clock the next day. I couldn’t care less what they say. Let Stephanie Harding know that this show is going to go on. It’s going to be an R-rated memoir of a defeated, downtrodden statistician who used drugs to numb the pain—I hope—but it’s going to go on.
I sink deeper in the tub and try to figure out what I’m doing to keep myself busy the next few hours. Maybe clean the house. Some exhaustion will help me sleep, too. I close my eyes and let the cool water cover me like a blanket over my aching body.
My eyes pop open; there’s no peace here.
Impatient with my convoluted relaxation, I wrap myself in a towel. The phone rings again and I almost pick it up without looking, assuming it’s Margo, but the Oklahoma number catches my eye and I drop it like a burning ember.
“I know I’m not supposed to call you.” His voice is rough and barely in control. “I’m sorry. For calling…and everything else.” There’s a pause and I close my eyes and listen to his breath on the machine. “Stephanie told me you were in Sea Isle this weekend and…” He chokes up a little. Her name from his lips rips me in half. My body trembles as I shake my head. “And…I just wanted to tell you we’re going to be together again soon. Don’t be with anyone else. Don’t meet anyone. Please, Annie.”
Un-fucking-believable. The chick he cheated on me with tells him I’m out having fun and he has the nerve to call and ask me to stop? It’s like he can’t breathe without pissing me off.
“I promise I won’t call again,” he starts as I pick up the answering machine and hurl it against the wall, smashing it into a million jagged pieces of plastic. I wish he’d been here to aim at. I take a deep breath and snort it out my nose. He’s a bigger ass than I realized. I storm back to the kitchen and tear open the silverware drawer. I yank out a
Similar Books
Beneath the Earth
John Boyne
Drawn to Life
Elisabeth Wagner
One Coffee With
Margaret Maron
SilkenSeduction
Tara Nina
Gut Feeling
Victoria Browne
The Laughing Corpse
Laurell K. Hamilton
Seared by Desire
Jennifer T. Alli
Four Fish
Paul Greenberg
Deception
Amanda Quick