“Damian this is...I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.”
“I’m Madge, Madge Littleton.”
“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” A full sentence, she got a full sentence, but Damian wasn’t done. “Do you need a hand with those groceries?”
Here was the charming Damian, like he had been with Mrs. Cooke and my mom, and I had the same reaction I had then…jealousy. He had it in him to speak, even be charming, very charming, he just wasn’t bothering doing so with me now. Jerk.
“Thank you, young man, but Billy at the counter always carries my bags home. There’s a square dance tonight at the tavern starting at seven; it will be a good opportunity for you to meet some of your neighbors.”
I felt Damian go rigid at my side, so immediately I responded before he could say no because frankly I needed some human interaction. I could only take so much of the cyborg act. “What a wonderful idea. There is nothing my husband likes more than a good square dance. Maybe we will see you there.”
“Oh, I’ll definitely be there, at least for the first few dances. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“You’ll have to make sure you save a dance for Damian.”
His fingers on my hip were now digging almost painfully into my side.
“I’ll do that, looking forward to it.”
And she was because you could feel her excitement. “It was very nice to meet you, Mrs. Littleton.”
“Please call me Madge. See you tonight.”
She rattled when she departed, and so focused on what she could be wearing that would rattle, I didn’t immediately sense Damian’s mood until he said in a voice that was a little scary, “You enjoyed that.”
“Oh I did, Damian, very much.” Then I too walked away because it wouldn’t do for him to see me grinning and I was, from ear to ear.
Damian went for a run as soon as we put away the groceries. I tried not to think about the man in the alley and how if Damian hadn’t shown when he had, I wouldn’t be sitting here. I had something some bad people wanted and they were prepared to kill me to get it. That is not something most people can say and so my overactive imagination took a stroll down memory lane. Were there other people in my life who would like to see me facedown in a river?
Initially, I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to kill me. I was very unassuming. I didn’t get into people’s business. I kept to myself. I sent thank you notes and Christmas cards. I was really very uninteresting. The biggest drama I’d ever been in was breaking up the fight between Mrs. Cooke and Betty when The Bachelor ended and the outcome was not one either of them liked.
I was convinced the list would be very short, maybe even nonexistent, but as I searched my memories I discovered that there were more people than I was comfortable with who might wish me harm. I looked down at the names under the column, PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE ME DEAD. There were too many names on that list and it was while I stared at the possible harbingers of my death that Damian returned from his run. He headed to the fridge first for a bottle of water before he joined me at the table, though he didn’t take a seat. Since I was looking right at him, I saw the frown as he studied the sheet of paper in front of me. His focus shifted to me.
“Facing down death I wondered if there could be others in my life that would like to see me dead. A little morbid, but then that scene in the alley was definitely morbid.”
He flinched, subtle but undeniable, and I felt badly for mentioning it.
“Old lady in the yellow car?”
“I didn’t know her name, but I took her parking spot. I mean technically I was there first, but she was elderly and it would have been the polite thing to let her have the spot because it was closer to the store. But I’d been circling for a while so I took it. She actually flicked me off when she drove past.”
“And you think she would want you dead?”
“Probably not. She’s probably dead. The incident was several years ago and she looked like the crypt keeper even then.”
“Man on the corner?”
“He’s a panhandler, who asks me for money every day, which I refuse to give and not because I’m a mean person, but a panhandler who drinks Starbucks every morning and wears nicer clothes than me, I don’t think so. After months of being denied, when I walk by him now he starts mocking me by chanting no in the most annoying way. I think if he had the means, he would kill me then steal my purse and get the last laugh.”
“Do I want to know about the dog gang?”
“Stray dogs that walk the streets in my neighborhood. It’s the look in their eyes I don’t trust.”