Ember and I rattled around inside the quiet house. Christopher was substantial and talkative and took up space. His laugh made the house warm and lived in. Without him, it seemed cavernous. I turned on the stereo for background noise, grabbed a book, and took a hot bath. I didn’t pay attention to the time, but emerged when my water got cold. Hunger prompted my stomach to investigate. How much longer would Christopher be gone? To keep busy, I finished unpacking and started the vacation laundry I’d avoided earlier by going for a walk.
I made tea, grabbed a snack, and fed Ember her dinner. It was dark outside. I checked out the windows time after time, watching for Christopher’s return, hoping to see the glow of his headlights turn into the driveway. But he didn’t. I hated waiting and chewed my lip. He’d been gone longer than expected. As I was someone with a poor sense of time, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. He’d be home soon.
Time passed, and my imagination invented scenarios to explain his absence. He’d run out of gas. He’d run into an old friend and they were caught up talking. He’d gone to Brandon’s to confront him. The car got a flat tire. He’d had trouble finding a store that was open. I made reasonable guesses and less reasonable ones. In any of these scenarios, he would have called or would soon. I tried not to consider ones where he could be injured, like car accidents. My worry mounted. It wasn’t like him to be missing or careless of time.
After three hours, when he still wasn’t home and hadn’t called, I texted.
“Home soon? Should I figure out my own dinner?”
At eight p.m., I still hadn’t heard from him, so I heated a can of chicken noodle soup for dinner. My unease had grown and tied my stomach into knots. His absence was out of character. He was punctual and considerate about letting me know when he was running late. When the doorbell rang, I forgot my usual caution and ran to the entrance, hoping that he’d returned with his hands full and needed help with the door. My hands trembled as I opened it, afraid it could be different news.
A delivery man handed me a long rectangular box with a white ribbon tied on top.
My brow furrowed. I’d ordered nothing, but it was addressed to me. Not Christopher or us.
I checked my phone. Still nothing. Curious, I took the box. After the delivery man drove away, I opened it. Inside lay a dozen blood-red roses in a nest of snow-white tissue. I hadn’t received flowers in years. My hand shook as I reached for the card. Maybe Christopher had planned this, knowing he’d been gone longer than expected.
‘I miss you. We belong together, Love Eric.’
The blood drained from my face and I dropped the box as though scalded. It hit the floor and bounced, roses scattering on the floor. I backed away. My stomach churned. There’d been no sign of Eric since the night of the Christmas party. I broke out in a cold sweat. Did he have something to do with Christopher’s absence? The timing of the flowers couldn’t be random.
Christopher hadn’t answered my last text, so I sent another.“Roses arrived from Eric. WTF. Are you ok?”
A creeping sense of anxiety mounted with each second of silence. I waited another fifteen minutes, trying not to watch the clock despite my panic. My throat was dry. I wanted to be wrong, to give Christopher a chance to reply. Still no response. Something must have happened. I needed help.
With shaking hands, I called Christopher’s phone, hoping he’d pick up, even if I hadn’t tried speaking on the phone. I dreaded each ring, as it meant he couldn’t answer. What if he was injured? Dead? It was easy to visualize a scene of a roadside accident caused by the icy, treacherous roads. Whether or not I could speak was moot. He didn’t answer. His phone rang four times, then went to voicemail. I couldn’t leave a message. I sent a final text.
“Please let me know you’re ok.”
I told myself it was the last message and that he’d be home soon, then we could laugh about how silly I was to panic.
The silence became deafening. An old clock ticked on the wall by the kitchen and Ember crunched her kibbles. Even the hum of the refrigerator hurt my ears.
By ten, I was a nervous wreck, my chest tight with each breath. I’d lowered all the curtains and blinds and double-checked the locks. I checked and rechecked that the alarm was armed. I couldn’t sit still or concentrate. I tried several TV shows, but nothing held my interest. I reread the same page several times before I gave up on reading. Going to sleep was out of the question, though it was getting late.
I might be over-reacting, but he’d been gone five hours instead of one. It was time for the cavalry. I texted Andrew.
“Sorry it’s late, but I need help. Christopher went for groceries five hours ago. Hasn’t come back. They delivered flowers from Eric tonight. Coincidence? Please advise.”
Less than a minute later, Andrew called. My ringtone echoed in the empty house.
With trembling hands, I answered the FaceTime call.
Andrew had a deep furrow in his brow when he appeared on my screen. He was in pajamas and probably was on his way to bed.
“You okay?”
I shrugged, then shook my head.
“Eric sent flowers. Was there a card?”
I nodded as he went into police mode.
“Show me.”
I found the card on the floor where I’d dropped it and showed Andrew. I kicked the box of flowers.
“Where would Christopher have gone for the groceries?”
