Page 41
Story: A Midsummer Night's Ghost
Was he being chivalrous or trying to lull me into complacency?
Maybe I was just paranoid.
“I need help. Just give me a hand.”
He was a big man and the closer he got the more I regretted my decision. Or really, all of my decisions.
I decided it was best to continue with the original plan of going into the yard behind me, putting a fence between us. Not that it would stop him if he wanted to attack me, but it would give me a few precious seconds to run and use my phone to call for help.
“Look,” he said, as he offered me his hand so I could balance better on the fence. “I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing, but it was really uncool of you to tell Joy that James was dead.”
James’s ex-wife/girlfriend’s name was Joy? Talk about an oxymoron.
Then again, in all the bar photos she had looked plenty happy. She just wasn’t happy with me. Or Alyssa.
“I thought she knew. I didn’t mean to be the one to deliver bad news.” I was huffing and puffing a little as I dropped down over the opposite side of the fence, squeezing the guy’s hand for support harder than I would have liked to.
That was a very me thing to have to do—lean on my attacker for support.
I looked up at the guy as I released his hand. “You knew, didn’t you? I mean, the date is tattooed on your arm.”
“What are you talking about?”
Wait. Maybe that was the other guy. Now I wasn’t even sure which scary man belonged to which scary woman. “Who is your girlfriend?”
“Joy.”
So that meant he wasn’t the guy with the tattoo. Because he belonged to Mean Blonde.
But…
“I thought Joy was with James.” I brushed off my butt and checked my crossbody bag to make sure it was still zipped. It was, so I was confident my phone was where it should be, tucked inside.
“She is. Was. She’s cheating on him with me. Was.” He rubbed his beard. “Look, it’s complicated. Because of the kid and their history and…” He frowned. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“You really don’t. And I don’t have to explain to you either.”
“Just leave Joy alone.”
“I have no intention of ever seeing Joy again. But ask your friend about his tattoo.”
With that, I backed up and promptly tripped over a tree root. I didn’t fall but I did stumble and my great parting statement was ruined. At least in my mind. This guy probably wasn’t the least bit interested in my mysterious vibe I was trying to pull off.
“This is messed up,” he muttered.
“Tell me about it.” I backed up. “Hey, do you like slushies? Do you and James go for slushies together?”
“What?” He looked at me blankly. “Is that some kind of kink? Or a drug nickname I don’t know about?”
“No. I mean slushies.” I made a gesture like I was sipping from a straw but then I realized that could be misinterpreted.
His face turned red. He makes a growling sound.
Definitely misinterpreted.
“Bye!” I took off down the driveway, clinging to the fence line in case the homeowner had a security camera.
By the time I got back to my car, glancing over my shoulder repeatedly, I was out of breath. The man didn’t come over the fence after me and he hasn’t even tried to cut me off back at the coffee shop where we started. I didn’t even know what that meant.
Maybe I was just paranoid.
“I need help. Just give me a hand.”
He was a big man and the closer he got the more I regretted my decision. Or really, all of my decisions.
I decided it was best to continue with the original plan of going into the yard behind me, putting a fence between us. Not that it would stop him if he wanted to attack me, but it would give me a few precious seconds to run and use my phone to call for help.
“Look,” he said, as he offered me his hand so I could balance better on the fence. “I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing, but it was really uncool of you to tell Joy that James was dead.”
James’s ex-wife/girlfriend’s name was Joy? Talk about an oxymoron.
Then again, in all the bar photos she had looked plenty happy. She just wasn’t happy with me. Or Alyssa.
“I thought she knew. I didn’t mean to be the one to deliver bad news.” I was huffing and puffing a little as I dropped down over the opposite side of the fence, squeezing the guy’s hand for support harder than I would have liked to.
That was a very me thing to have to do—lean on my attacker for support.
I looked up at the guy as I released his hand. “You knew, didn’t you? I mean, the date is tattooed on your arm.”
“What are you talking about?”
Wait. Maybe that was the other guy. Now I wasn’t even sure which scary man belonged to which scary woman. “Who is your girlfriend?”
“Joy.”
So that meant he wasn’t the guy with the tattoo. Because he belonged to Mean Blonde.
But…
“I thought Joy was with James.” I brushed off my butt and checked my crossbody bag to make sure it was still zipped. It was, so I was confident my phone was where it should be, tucked inside.
“She is. Was. She’s cheating on him with me. Was.” He rubbed his beard. “Look, it’s complicated. Because of the kid and their history and…” He frowned. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“You really don’t. And I don’t have to explain to you either.”
“Just leave Joy alone.”
“I have no intention of ever seeing Joy again. But ask your friend about his tattoo.”
With that, I backed up and promptly tripped over a tree root. I didn’t fall but I did stumble and my great parting statement was ruined. At least in my mind. This guy probably wasn’t the least bit interested in my mysterious vibe I was trying to pull off.
“This is messed up,” he muttered.
“Tell me about it.” I backed up. “Hey, do you like slushies? Do you and James go for slushies together?”
“What?” He looked at me blankly. “Is that some kind of kink? Or a drug nickname I don’t know about?”
“No. I mean slushies.” I made a gesture like I was sipping from a straw but then I realized that could be misinterpreted.
His face turned red. He makes a growling sound.
Definitely misinterpreted.
“Bye!” I took off down the driveway, clinging to the fence line in case the homeowner had a security camera.
By the time I got back to my car, glancing over my shoulder repeatedly, I was out of breath. The man didn’t come over the fence after me and he hasn’t even tried to cut me off back at the coffee shop where we started. I didn’t even know what that meant.
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