My veryemptyporch.
The boxes are gone, as if I imagined them being out at all, and now they’re replaced with mistletoe hanging on a cord like a tennis ball in a garage. Itbonks me in the head, a physical manifestation of how fucking dumbfounded I am. Because my brain? Empty. No lights, no one is home, executive error.
I search the ground outside, and this time, there are footprints tracking back and forth from my garage to my porch. As my eyes roam, they snag on red and green reflections on the snow.
My mouth falls open, because my house isdecorated.Like, full-onChristmas Vacationdecorated. Over the years I’ve acquired more decorations than I’ve ever managed to put up at once, and now, matching or not, they’realladorning my house.
It starts slowly, a simmering annoyance in my gut, and then builds as I realize what all this entails.
Again, Tom has come to my house unasked, unwanted, and while I wasunconscious.
Again, he’s violated theone place I feel safe.
Again, I realize that I have to talk to him, the last thing on earth I want to do.
Fuck.
My hands shake as I pull the phone out of my pocket, and my fingers fly across the keys. I have trouble reading what I’m writing because I’m tearing up—I’m an angry crier—but he doesn’t deserve good grammar or spelling, he deserves whatever bullshit autocorrect decides to spit out at him.
A: Tom, i don’t know what the fuck is setting with you, but you can’t just come to my house and do this shit. I isn’t ask you to get my lives and honestly it’s none of your ducking business of I deviate or not!!!! Stay off my property, I’ll get my own damn groceries from now on.
I hit send and dash the tears out of my eyes. Oof, that wasa rough one, but he deserves every second of attempting to figure out what I meant.
Take that, asshole.
“Come on, Henry.” I wave at him and head toward the treeline. Of course now, when I have a ton of pissed off energy to burn, I don’t even have any physical labor to burn it off with.
The woods are still and quiet, my feet crunching in the snow and occasionally snapping twigs beneath them. It makes me think of my sexy dream the other night, but even that doesn’t distract me.
I can’t leave my house because the world feels unsafe.
But now, even my house feels unsafe.
Sure, Tom always kinda gave off the “don’t you worry, little lady” vibe even when I didn’t want it, but this has gone too far. As soon as that fucker texts me back, I’m gonna give himanotherpiece of my mind.
I angrily stomp around the forest for a while. Henry must pick up on the vibe, because he’s acting the closest to being possessive and protective I’ve ever seen.
Actually, come to think of it, he’s never really liked Tom. He always barks at him when he comes round, though I guess he must have slept through the two nights he was moving my shit. “Good boy, Henry,” I croon, even if he has no idea why he’s a good boy, he deserves to know. It’s not his fault he’s a hard sleeper. He’s the goodest boy, because obviously he’s known Tom is a creeper and I’m simply late to the party.
Time drags on, and I get some work done on my phone during the walk. My anger has nearly cooled when I hear the sound of a chainsaw. I walk to the edge of my property, nearing Tom’s land, though why he’d be out at the edge of his acreage clearing trees is beyond me.
Hearing him so close to where the stone fence that separates our land is only rilesme up again, and I growl in frustration. He’d better not be cutting any of my trees. If he’s laid his hand onone single tree,he’ll face my wrath.
I stomp over there, sniffing when I see that at least he is on his side of the fence. He seems to be clearing a path through the woods, though thankfully it seems to turn and run parallel to my property line a hundred feet or so away.
When he sees me, he powers down the chainsaw and waves, like nothing is wrong. He pops earplugs out, but still yells too loud when he greets me.
“Well hello, sweetheart!” he says, putting his safety goggles up onto the brim of his hat. “Take a walk just to come see me?”
I recoil. “What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?” I spit. “You can’t just come to my house unannounced, and news flash, buddy, tell people when you get a new fucking phone number. And another thing, it’s none of your goddamn business if I put my lights up or not. Stay off my property, or I’ll call the police.”
Yes, that sounds sufficiently threatening. I may not feel it, but it was a pretty good bluff.
The problem is, though, that Tom looks generally taken aback. He shakes his head and drops the chainsaw so he can hold his hands up in front of him. By the time I finish speaking, he looks almost pissed.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, sweetheart. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve just gotten back from seeing my sister out of town. Hell, I’ll show you the plane ticket if you like.”
“What?”
