Sunday Fiction

An hour. Just when she didn't need to have an extra hour in her day, she did.

Kelleigh contemplated what to do. Hiding out at work would be obvious to her staff that something was afoot. She could stop at the grocery store, or even the liquor store, but she didn't really need anything. She couldn't call Delly, she still wasn't speaking to her.

Finally deciding that she was being ridiculous, she went home. She parked the truck in the garage, Eddie still had the car, and trudged upstairs. With no energy left to contemplate anything else, she free fell across her bed. She laid there, face down and allowed herself a moment of freaking out. What is Andrew doing back? What does he want from me? What else could possibly happen at this point? A litany of what's, who's, and why's ran through her head untended.

Before she even realized it was happening, she drifted off asleep. She awoke a few minutes later to a pounding on the door, the sound of her name being called, and then footsteps on the stairs. Knowing it was Andrew and having no will to resist, she continued to lay there. She didn't think about the intimacy of the setting, just that she didn't have the energy to get up.

"So,what are we doing?" She heard Andrew's voice in the doorway.

Kelleigh didn't even lift her head, "Nothing, Andrew, we're doing nothing."

"Where's your truck? It's not outside and I thought maybe you ditched me."

"Not that you don't deserve it. It's parked in the garage."

"In the Garage? How did you manage that? When your grandma lived here, you couldn't fit a playing card in that garage."

Kelleigh turned over on the bed, away from him. "I cleaned it out when grandma died, the racecar is at Eddies and I parked in the garage."

She heard Andrew come closer and felt the bed dip down when he sat gently next to her. She could smell him and had to willfully resist the urge not to curl herself around her. Twenty years ago, this would be fine. But not now. Not today.

"What's going on Kel? I know I've been gone a long time but even I can tell something's wrong. Tell me."

He reached over and smoothed her hair away from her face with a gentle hand. Finally, she opened her eyes to look at him. "Andrew, the list of what's Not Wrong would be shorter."