She began to put all the trinkets back in the bag. She paused, took the note, folded it and stuck it into her shirt pocket.
The bag went back into the secret space in the closet floorboard. It was where it belonged, back in time, back to a little girl that wasn't there anymore.
She sighed, long, as she sank back onto the bed. It was becoming too much,
the pressure. Being here, this job.
Her eyes stung. How was she supposed to do this?
No, she knew what she truly meant was, how was she supposed to do this alone?
And that was it. Letting the word in, letting it even be possible, squeezed her
heart, and she gave a short gasp. A tear trickled, and she wiped it.
Well, she didn't really have a choice, did she? In fact, the choices were made,
a long time ago. She was just riding them out now.
She sniffed and sat up straight, took a chance glance out her second-story window at the house next door.
The porch light was still on, gleaming yellow. A beacon, if she wanted to be
poetic. But she couldn't afford to. Not yet.
She got up and pulled the shade down, and the room went dark.
* * *
Peter thought for a moment, then rang the doorbell again. Maybe he was pushing
it. Maybe Kate was inside watching him, hiding in the kitchen. Maybe it was a
mistake, the kiss in Chicago yesterday. It had been spontaneous, but she hadn't
pulled away. Maybe he should just…
The door opened and Kate appeared, smiling. She was barefoot in a flowered
dress. Peter hadn't seen her in a dress before. At least, not since grade school.
She looked good, light and airy. Her toenails were painted red.
“Peter, Peter,” she said a little loudly. “Pumpkin eater.”
“Can I come in?” he asked.
She bowed extravagantly. “Enter, good sir.” She stumbled slightly as she stepped back.
Peter opened the screen door and let it close behind him. “Saw your car.
Thought I'd stop and say hi.”
Kate beamed. “Awesome! Awesome sauce.” She turned and walked to a
couch and flopped down, patting the seat next to her. “Come sit by me, Peter.”
He glanced at the wine bottle and glass on the end table next to the couch.
The glass was empty.
“Maybe I should come back later.”
She shook her head. “No, no, sit down and tell me how you've been.”
“Since yesterday?” He came and sat next to her. She tucked her legs under
her and shifted towards him.
“You don't mind if I scooch over, do you?”
“No.”
“Good. I don't like anti-scoochers.”
“Me either.”
“Then we are agreed. Next order of business. Getting rid of the Vipes
