La Mort et ses Merveilles ✔

22. American Dream

La Mort et ses Merveilles

Chapter 22: American Dream

Leslie

2 weeks before the outbreak

"I don't care," the young woman said from across the line. "You have to come."

"I'm uh-" I tried to come up with an excuse. "I'm busy. I have uh, some friend's thing."

"You have friends? Oh, that's new," Clara said sardonically. "It's Saturday. I mean surely you could spare some time. Besides, my parents asked me if you'd be coming and you know how much they like you."

And that's how I agreed to come down to the Anderson's house, and possibly bump into Clyde, who I had been desperately trying to avoid ever since the whole fiasco during that dinner thing last year.

We haven't talked in a year. I received an invitation to the wedding through mail, but I didn't show up. Sent him a message that I couldn't make it. That I had some emergency -family issues. Which was a lie since Clyde and Clara were the closest thing I had to a family.

Yet there I was, in the driveway right outside the Anderson residence, sitting alone in my parked pickup truck. I let out a heavy sigh as I looked at myself in the side mirror.

I ran a hand through my hair, sweeping it to the side in an attempt to adjust it. I straightened my collar, but I decided to leave the last few buttons on my grey cotton shirt undone. It was just a little get together to welcome the new baby after all, nothing too formal.

Making sure I took the present with me, I stepped out of the vehicle. After locking my pickup behind me, I made my way across the familiar lawn to the Anderson residence I had been so used to visiting back when I lived down the street.

My heart racing fast, I walked up to the door. Hesitantly, I pressed the bell. A thousand thoughts ran through my head. What if Clyde opened the door? What should I do? What should I say? Should I apologise to him, tell him that I didn't mean it? But I'd only be lying if I did, since in that moment, my passion and feelings just sucked me in. And deep inside, I still felt the same.

I soon found myself in front of a young woman, her wavy blonde hair down to her shoulders. She wore a knee-length dress, light pastel blue with florets of pink scattered around the fabric. It was none other than Clara.

"So you finally decided to step out of your truck?" she said, her arms folded in front of her. "You were in there for like, twenty minutes. I was taking out the trash saw you pull in. Took you long enough though."

"I'm sorry, okay?" I muttered. "I'm just. . . nervous."

"It's going to be fine," she said. "It's been so long, I'm pretty sure he already forgot about it."

"I don't think that's something you forget that easily," I muttered.

"Anyway," Clara said, her eyes fixated on the parcel in my arms. "Is that for the baby? That's one more to the pile. "

"Y-Yeah," I muttered, as I passed it to her.

"Oh wow," the young woman remarked as she held the box. "It's a bit heavy. What you got in here?"