Waiting by Erin Dennington ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 1 Christina swept her hair in front of her shoulder and hurriedly ran the brush through the golden locks. Once again she was running late. And once again she would have to explain to that asshole of a boss just why she was running late. Her husband's muffled voice snaked into the room. Christina leaned out into the hallway and shouted downstairs, "I don't have time to do it; you get the kids dressed!" Matthew's grumbled reply was barely audible, but she chose to ignore it. "Selfish prick," she muttered, yanking the hair out of the brush and throwing the brush onto the countertop. "I know full well what time it is." Pulling the zipper up on her sweatshirt, she paused, starting at herself in the mirror. She frowned. There was something on the side of her face, something she couldn't quite make out, something which seemed to be marring the otherwise pristine quality of her makeup. Whatever it was, it appeared to be walking across her skin at a lazy stroll. "FUCK!" she said, grabbing a tissue and furiously rubbing at the area on her skin. About to toss the used tissue into the toilet, she hesitated and brought it closer to her face. Mashed into the cottony folds was a tiny winged insect, about the size of pinhead. She didn't recognize it, so she crumbled the tissue up tightly and flushed it. Satisfied that she was looking good, Christina closed the bathroom door and turned around to find her son standing there in his Superman pajamas. "Mommy," he said, "Daddy won't let me wear these to school." She jumped, startled, and cursed herself for letting his sudden appearance unnerve her. Christina picked up her son and carried him to his room. "You know how Daddy likes to joke around with you and tell you wild stories. He's usually not right. Well, this time Daddy is right, honey," she said. "You can't wear your Superman costume to school." Pulling the top half of his pajamas off, she tossed it onto the bed, slipped a white oxford over his head, and buttoned it as her eyes swept the room for the rest of his uniform. Her gaze lit upon the slacks and belt lying on the floor next to the bed and she swooped down, eager to get this last chore done with, this last piece of the reason she was habitually late to work. Shaking out the wrinkles in the clothes, she gently guided Tommy back onto the bed and helped him finish dressing. "But, Mommy," he whined, "I don't like wearing my uniform to school. I wanna wear Superman's uniform. He can fly!" Christina silenced him with a finger to his lips. "Shh," she said, "Just put these on, and you can wear the Superman outfit as soon as you come home today, ok?" "You promise, Mommy?" "Yes, Tommy, I promise. Just change your clothes and get a move on." Downstairs, her husband and daughter waited at the foot of the stairs, coats on, and their arms full. Becca carried her backpack and Tommy's slung over one shoulder and her science fair project clutched precariously. Matthew's briefcase bulged with papers and drawings while his other hand held Christina's purse and keys. "We need to go," he said, watching Christina herd Tommy down the stairs and to the front door, where she tugged mittens and a knit cap over Tommy's head and tightened the strings on his jacket. "And we are going," she replied, snatching her purse and keys and heading down the walk. She could hear Matthew's expelled breath as he sighed and turned to lock the front door behind them. She could hear Becca's goodbye and kiss that she threw over her shoulder to her father, a kiss that she readily gave each and every morning to her father. A kiss that she never bestowed upon her mother. Lump in her throat, Christina forced a smile to her face as she unlocked the car doors and lifted Tommy into his seat. She stroked his hair and tugged the seatbelt lock into place, then climbed into her own seat and twisted the ignition switch. The engine turned over and she let the warmth slide through the car, gradually diminishing and then expelling the frost that had clouded the windows. She put the car into reverse and edged down the driveway, nervous that she might hit one of the cars stuck in the snow at the bottom of the hill. She could feel Becca's gaze, measuring each movement she made, noting each maneuver, each motion, causing her hands to suddenly feel slimy and slick on the steering wheel. Becca didn't say a word, and the lack of sound was starting to grate on Christina's nerves, until finally she blurted out, "Is something the matter, Becca?" She instantly regretted her outburst, especially when her daughter acknowledged her question by gazing out the window. Christina pursed her lips and drove on, flicking the turn signal on and slowing down. Ahead of her, a van slid through the intersection, its wheels locking as the driver frantically tried to brake in time. 13:54 - 11.05.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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