Rachel was driving home in the dark without her standing mixer. He was sure he could fix it in time, but not on her timeline. Her dad was unaware of her gingersnap plan to see Sean. She felt a little guilty as she should have been making more altruistic cookies instead of thinking up ways to bump into each other, but if she didn't speak these things out loud no one would know she was a terrible person.
The highway was quiet tonight. Everyone was already where they needed to be, except her. The visit hadn't been a total bust. Her mom, the knower of all things local, had filled her in on every minute detail of her small town. Rachel was entertained as each trivial story moved into the next. Besides supper her dad had spent the majority of her visit in the garage. She'd felt guilty about bringing him a project but her mom had waved it of, "He's happy out there tinkering."
Her mom had waited almost to the end of the visit to bring up Art's crash. "You wouldn't have believed it even to see it," she had said arm on the back of the sofa facing her. She had poured herself a glass of white wine and put a couple ice cubes in it. Her mom had made her tea because she would be driving. Rachel sat quietly wondering what impact watching an accident like that would have on all these people.
"We could hear the engine making these noises, and I'm no airline mechanic, but we knew," she swirled her wine and the ice cubes tinkled inside her crystal glass. Rachel quietly listened. "Everyone got real quiet, you know like a calm before the storm and then the plane just pitched down to ground and we all stood up as if that was going to do something." She took a sip. "I don't know if anyone looked away. You really can't, it's just happening and you're just paralyzed and your eyes are just locked on the whole scene."
Rachel tried to imagine shaking her head and taking her own sip of tea. It was good, but she wished it was wine. "Poor Art," her mom got quiet for a few seconds, "I almost hope they find that he had a heart attack or a stroke. What else can kill you instantly?" Rachel swallowed her tea. "Aneurysm," she added helpfully. Her mom smiled at her as if she was back in elementary school and had just gotten 10/10 on her spelling quiz.
"I just don't want to think about Art being aware of what was happening. I'm not sure why they feel the need to do an autopsy. They should let it be! Why are they doing that," her mom wanted to know. "Those decisions are made way above my pay grade," Rachel knew not to get into the weeds with her mom about why and when hospitals made their decisions. "It'll delay the funeral planning," her mom stated as if this was a reason not to perform the autopsy.
"You're helping with the funeral?" Rachel knew her mom had planned on stepping down from the social planning committee at the church, but wasn't surprised that her mom was right back in the thick of it. "Linda needs me," her mom stated matter of fact. "This isn't going to be like a normal funeral. People want to be associated with the story so that they can say that they were there. It's big news and people want to be a part of it anyway they can. The funeral will be their last chance."
"That's a weird way to think of it," Rachel scrunched up her face a bit and then added, "I was thinking about coming?" The tone of her voice made it sound like a question. "Yes well we all know you're coming for the right reasons. Some people I swear to you only come for the sandwiches," she raised an eyebrow to show Rachel what she thought of that.
She wondered what her mom would think if she knew she was only coming to bump into Sean. Since her divorce last year her mom never brought up relationships. She didn't think she had recovered from the sting of having a divorced daughter. It was a touchy subject because she was the one who had initiated it and her mom thought she just needed to lay down the law with the video games, beer league hockey, partying, but Rachel knew she didn't want a spouse she'd have to parent.
Rachel pulled into her driveway to the little house she lived in alone. She sat in the car for a minute looking at dark house. It'd be nice to have someone here when I got home. The house was not only dark, but quiet as she let herself in. Would this house be big enough for two she wondered. She'd have to get more hangers for the front closet. She could see being very cozy here with someone right.
She flicked lights on as she walked through the house. Her keys clinking in the bowl breaking the silence and then water running as she filled her kettle. She wanted something warm to drink. She opened her cupboard to grab a mug, but her eyes strayed to the top shelf. She grabbed a wine glass instead. She pulled a bottle of red from the rack. She loved the uncorking part of opening a bottle almost as much as drinking the wine. She poured a generous glass and settled in on the couch. "Well if I don't snag a man I should probably get a cat." Drinking wine with a cat would be better than drinking alone.
YOU ARE READING
Salad, Sandwiches, Dainties and Punch
General FictionI'm probably writing about your hometown
