“Oh, wait,” Chip called out as I stepped through the door. I turned and watched him hurry into his office. He returned a moment later.
“Sign this for me real quick. I need to get it in the mail.”
I took the document and pen, turning the page to see what I was signing but jumped when he yelled, “For God’s sake, hurry. Can’t you…”
He stopped his tirade when I simply lowered the pen and scrawled out my name. Fine. He wanted me to hurry, I’d hurry. Better to sign my life away than listen to him complain… again.
He was smiling when I handed everything back. “Thank you, sweetheart. Go have a good lunch.” He leaned forward and kissed me, whispering, “You’re the best.”
I hurried out the door and down the sidewalk, hoping to squeeze in a stop at the drug store before going to the cleaners. I wanted to get a new lipstick color in case I had to meet Chip for dinner with the Cunningham’s. I felt a need for something bright and cheerful, in contrast to the dark cloud that seemed to be hovering over me lately.
Things had improved in some ways between Chip and me. I’d been stunned when he’d apologized for his poor behavior at dinner and then sent the beautiful flowers. But now, he seemed obsessed with keeping tabs on me, under the guise of some heartfelt concern for my well-being. I didn’t know what to believe, or how to feel about what I believed. He had changed so much and I didn’t know why.
I swung by the drug store first and picked out a bright shade of lipstick I’d seen in the latest issue of Vogue. I’d worn the same pink for years and this happy color seemed to be all the rage.
After I finished, I crossed the street and walked down a couple doors to the dry cleaners to get Chip’s shirts. The cleaners was at the end of the small downtown business district which bled into an older residential area with huge Victorian style houses standing behind large oak trees, some of which were considered historical landmarks.
A few of the old houses had been turned into businesses since they stood on the main drag through town. I was glad of that, it would have been a tremendous loss to our little town to have such ornate works of craftsmanship torn down. One was now a chocolate shop, another a florist and an especially large and imposing house had been restored to its original beauty and turned into the one and only funeral home in town. It had a stone front with a grand and sweeping wrap-around porch highlighted by ornamental trim. There were wings and bays in all directions and the steep pointed roofline was accented with many gables facing in different ways. It was the quintessential Victorian style house. I always thought it was a shame that no family got to live there and enjoy its beautiful architecture. Instead, it was now the temporary housing of lifeless bodies and their sorrow-filled relatives who came to say good-bye.
As I was about to open the door to the dry cleaner’s shop I caught a glimpse of a long black car slowing down in front of the drug store I just left. I couldn’t help but notice it. A black limousine in this small town stuck out like a sore thumb. It pulled to a stop just past the drug store, but not quite in front of the funeral home.
As I stepped inside the cleaners, another customer was at the counter keeping the clerk busy. I took the opportunity to look out the front window to get one more look. The limo had pulled further up and was now parked on the street. I wondered if the driver was lost and if I should step outside to give assistance.
I tried to appear nonchalant as I peered out the window. It was heavy with flyers and painted-on letters of advertisement for the best dry cleaning deal in town. So much so that it was nearly impossible to look out and get a clear view of the mysterious limo.
I glanced over at the store clerk, still busy with her customer. When I looked back, a handsome stranger dressed in a sharp dark suit stepped out of the back of the long car. I could have sworn he looked directly at me. I turned away quickly, my heart picking up in beats. I didn’t want him to see me gawking, but just like a rubber-necker craning to see a traffic accident on the side of the road, I had to look again. Who was he and why was he in our little town? My curiosity was getting out of hand.
I continued watching, doing my reconnaissance in little snatches as I pretended to wait for my turn in line. Soon, the driver joined the man in the dark suit, standing outside the limo and looking around. He was also dressed in dark clothing; no suit jacket, just a white shirt, pants and vest. They stood and talked for a minute, but the one I wanted to get a better view of kept his back to me. Then, he tapped his wrist where a watch would be and the driver nodded. The driver got back into the limo and mystery man started walking in the direction of the funeral home.