Setting the notebook on the counter, I slip the pen into the neck of my blouse. Turning, I see a familiar face approach.
“Barbie?” What is she doing here? She looks pale, more so than usual. She has strawberry blonde hair, almost red, and a complexion that usually accompanies redheads. Only hers is even lighter than usual. “Are you okay?” I make my way around the counter. “Would you like something to drink? Do you need to sit down?” Seriously, she’s nearly blue.
“You’realwaysso helpful, aren’t you, Prudie?”
Okay, I detest it when Travis calls me that––hearing it from her is even worse. “It’s Prudence.”
“Travis can’t say enough about his Prudie.”
Oh boy. “I don’t think––”
“Prudie used to do this for me, Prudie used to do that….”
“Um… I did too much.”
“You think?” she practically spits the two words. “I’m so sick and tired of hearing aboutyou…”her voice is rising“and hisfucking mother!” By the time she got to part about his mother, her tone is more of a screech.
Nervously, I laugh a little. “I know, right? His mother was the worst.” I take a small step back, hoping I can get around the counter to my spot behind the counter. I’m feeling a tad uneasy about this interaction.
“She was worse than the worst.”
Is that a thing? I take another step back. My lower back is against the counter now.
“Do you want to know a secret?”
Do I? I shrug. “Sure.” If it buys me more time to get around the counter.
She places her hand on her stomach. The baby bump is barely showing but it’s there. “Celeste threatened to take my baby from me if I didn’t do everything she said.”
“Sounds like something she’d do.” I point to the back room where the fridge is housed. “Let me get you a bottle of water. It’s hot out there.” I chuckle like it’s the funniest thing in the world that the temperatures in Iowa in August are just over one hundred degrees. It’s no joke, unfortunately.
I’m looking at you, global warming.
“I’m not thirsty.”
“It’s no trouble.” I take two steps in that direction when I see something shiny emerge from the pocket of Barbie’s raincoat.
Did I forget to mention that Barbie’s wearing a shiny yellow raincoat covered in white daisies? Well, she is.
I glance at the silver object and see what I feared. It’s a knife. Like the one everyone has in their kitchen drawer. I believe the knife currently in her hand is known as a fillet knife. Funny. My first thought was: How did she get that long-ass blade to fit in that pocket? I’m sure there’s a hole in it now. There’s got to be.
“Barbie?” I ask softly. “Whatcha doing with that knife?”
“Oh, this?” she holds it up like she hadn’t realized she was clutching it so hard her knuckles are white. “I’m going to free myself of you.”
“Free yourself…?” Oh, shit.
“I thought getting rid of Celeste would be enough, but now that she’s gone, all he can do is talk aboutyou.”
“But we’re divorced. I live two hours from Travis. From you both.” I would have moved further if I’d know his bat-shit-crazy girlfriend was going to show up to kill me. My heart is beating about a million miles per hour and sweat is starting to pool in places I wish it wouldn’t, but it can’t be avoided.
“It’s not far enough, apparently.”
Think, Prudence. Say something to get her off this stupid, knife-wielding ledge.“How ‘bout I move out of state?” I’m willing to do it if it means she won’t fillet me.
“Still not far enough.” She’s started to edge closer. With each step she takes toward me, I take one back,
“Out of the country then. I’ve always wanted to live in England.”
