looked directly at my door, curiously staring at my peephole. Not accustomed to anyone staring at my peephole, I froze, eyes unblinking as she
appraised my door. She crossed the tiny landing, and rapped soundly on my door. Surprised, I jumped back a little, bumping into my umbrel a stand
and letting her know there was, in fact, someone home. I turned my face to the side and shouted, “Coming!” Then I proceeded to walk in place as
though I was headed for the door. Clive looked on with interest, tossing his head and assuring me I was not nearly as clever as I thought I was.
I made a great noise of clicking the locks, and then opened the door.
We appraised each other instantly, in the way that women do. She was tal and beautiful in a cold, patrician way. She wore a black suit,
severely cut and buttoned up to the col ar. Her strawberry blond hair was twisted and pinned back, although one solitary piece had marched away
from her sisters and now hung in her face. She pushed it back behind her ear. Her cherry red lips pursed as she finished looking me over and
offered a thin smile.
“Caroline, yes?” she asked, a solidly British accent piercing the air as clearly as her attitude. I already knew I didn’t care for this woman.
“Yes, can I help you?” I suddenly felt underdressed in my Garfield boxers and tank top. I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, feet clad in
giant socks. I shifted my weight again, realizing I probably looked like I had to pee. I also realized at the same time that this woman made me
nervous, and I had no idea why. I straightened up immediately, putting my game face on. This al took place in less than five seconds, a lifetime in
the world of Woman Figuring Out The Other Woman.
“I need to drop this off for Simon, and he mentioned that if he wasn’t at home to leave it at the flat across from his, that Caroline would take
care of it for him. You’re Caroline, so here you go, I suppose,” she finished, thrusting a cardboard box at me. I took it, taking my eyes off of hers for
a moment.
“What does he think I am, a mailbox?” I muttered, setting it on the table just inside the door and turning back to the woman.
“May I tel him who dropped this off, or wil he know?” I asked. She was stil looking me over as though I were a great puzzle.
“Oh, he’l know,” she answered, her cool tone sounding musical but clipped at the same time. As an American, I’l admit I am always fascinated
by a British accent, but could do without this particular side of superiority.
“Okay, wel …I’l make sure he gets it.” I nodded, leaning my hand on the door. I closed it ever so slightly, but she didn’t move.
“Is there anything else?” I asked. I could hear Ina working on her shortbread in the other room, and I didn’t want to miss any KitchenAid porn.
“No, nothing else,” she replied, stil making no move.
“Okay, then, have a good night,” I said, almost making it a question as I started to close the door. Just as I did, she stepped forward enough so
I was forced to catch the door before it hit her.
“Yes?” I asked, my irritation beginning to show through. This Limey was stopping me from seeing the completion of the pecan squares I’d been
waiting for al episode.
“I just, wel , I’m real y glad to have met you,” she answered, her eyes final y softening and a hint of a smile breaking through her façade. “And
you real y are quite lovely,” she added. I stared back at her. Her voice sounded oddly familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.
“Um, okay, thank you?” I answered as she started for the stairwel . Her heel caught just slightly, and she stumbled a little. As I closed the door,
she began to giggle as she worked her shoe loose. That’s when I realized who’d just visited.
My eyes widened, I’m sure to the size of dahlias, and I hurled the door back open. I gaped at her, and her face broke open into the widest
cheeky grin. She winked as I blushed. I’d been present for some of this lady’s greatest moments.
She wiggled her fingers at me and disappeared down the stairs. Clive brought me back from my stupor by nipping me on the calf, and I closed
the door.
I sat on my couch, pecan squares al but forgotten as my brain processed everything.
The Giggler had said I was lovely.
She basical y told me Simon had told her I was lovely.
Simon thought I was lovely.
Was the Giggler out of the harem?
Was there even a harem left?
What did this mean?
Would I only think in questions now?
And if so, who is Eric Cartman’s father?
Text between Simon and Caroline:
What are you doing?
What are YOU doing?
I asked you first.
You sure did.