The Surprise Visitor

[The other morning, I read an article by Jamie G., in which Jamie gave a nice little way to get started on writing when you have nothing to write about . That article can be found here: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.jsp?articleId=281474977069195.  I just tried it and here are the results.  The fifth line was simply “I’ll go on up.”]

I’ll go on up.  She doesn’t expect me. I’ll surprise her. 

The doorbell rings and you are quite confused.  No one ever bothers to walk up the seven flights of stairs and certainly no one you aren’t expecting.  You wonder who it could be.  You smooth your hair and pinch your cheeks, smiling broadly as you open the door. 

“Chloe!  How wonderful to see you!”

I see the chill in her eyes when she realizes who it is that has disturbed her afternoon of “daytime drama.”  I can see she already regrets having opened the door.  She stands there wondering if she should invite me in.  She will.  She’s decent that way. 

“Please, come in.  You must be out of breath after climbing all those stairs.  Come in.  Have a seat.  Can I get you some lemonade before you tell me what you’re doing in this part of town?” 

See, I told you she would be so surprised she’d forget that we hate each other’s guts.  Off she goes to fetch the lemonade just like the Donna Reed she tries to have everyone believe she is. 

Deciding not to use the good crystal iced tea glasses, you pour the lemonade over the ice you’ve filled the cheap plastic tumblers with.  You don’t fill them.  Maybe she’ll hurry and drink it all and leave.  You hope you don’t have to make an excuse to get rid of her.  You hope she doesn’t stay long.  You’re missing a crucial part of One Life To Live.  What could have possibly brought her here?  She’s not your friend.  You have nothing in common.  Except that you are both in love with your husband.  You carry the glasses around the corner and see that she isn’t sitting where you left her.  Where could she have gone?  Snooping, no doubt.  Just then you hear something behind you…

There!  All tidied up.  The police will never know that she was serving lemonade to someone she knew.  Just to make sure, I left some generic magazine catalog and order blanks laying around.  They’ll think the intruder pretended to be a salesman then offed her and rummaged through the place for valuables.  I took the good jewelry from the cheap musical jewelry box.  That’s what the police will be looking for.  No one will ever know.  Perfect.  Who says these things have to be planned for weeks in advance?!