Stepping in, I let the water err on the side of arctic. After a moment stewing in my embarrassment, I washed myself off. It took some effort to scrub the makeup from my face. Once satisfied I was clean of his scent, I got out. In the closet, I chose a new set of underwear, sweatpants and a sweatshirt.
I’d pick up the pieces and act like nothing happened. Honestly, far more dramatic stuff happens on Hallmark. This wasn’t a big deal, Sybil. No one got hurt, and no one was upset, except me.
My memory from yesterday returned. The day felt long and full of moments. I’d never felt so many things, experienced so many challenges, or felt so many emotions. My cheeks hurt from laughing, and my spirit felt full.
Me, Sybil Kauffman,socializing.
And not just that, butflirting?I’d crammed a lifetime of teenage experiences into one night. The friendships, the nights out, the casual drinking, and the sleepovers. My brief time in school was marked by bullying, and I was ostracized along with the other misfits.
All of it was new to me.
Exiting the bathroom, there was a single knock at the door. A sheet of paper slid under a moment later, floating to a stop before the rug. I tiptoed over, seeing “I left coffee” written in familiar bold black Sharpie.
Waiting and placing my ear against the door, I listened for any additional sound. Feeling pathetic, but not above further embarrassment, I dropped to the floor next, looking under the crack of the door. It didn’t appear that anyone was there, but I spotted the base of a coffee mug winking at me from the other side.
OMG, I wanted that.I needed that.
I sat up, clasped my hands together and fortified my resolve. Unlocking the door, I slowly and carefully dragged the mug across the floor and into the room before closing the door and engaging the lock once more. I didn’t bother moving from the floor, hoisting myself into a sitting position and crossing my legs. My lips found the edge of the mug, and creamy vanilla coffee met my taste buds.
I moaned.
Bill curled beside me, head in my lap. His enormous eyes assessed mine. I ran my finger up the length of his snout and over his head. His eyes shuttered closed.
I’d been brave talking and socializing as much as I had, and though my social tank was fuller than ever, my energy tank felt empty.
My phone dinged. Fishing for it in my hoodie pocket, I extracted it and tapped the screen.
Cat:How was the weekend?
I was relieved it was Cat for the first time in a long time.
Me:Eventful.
Cat:Oh?
Me:Did you light my house on fire on purpose? I feel like this is all part of your evil plan or something.
Cat:LOL. No. The fire marshals will be over there today though, looking into the starting point and what caused it. We’ll find out this afternoon.
I already had my suspicions, and I wasn’t proud. For the past few weeks I’d been cleaning my studio and was careless with the garbage. I’d used a lot of turpentine, and I knew better than to leave the rags lying around instead of throwing them in the proper bin.
That guilt kept me from looking out the front window yesterday. I couldn’t handle taking it in, feeling responsible and idiotic.
Me:Is it bad?
Cat:You have to rebuild. If the smoke didn’t ruin it, the water did.
Cat:At least now you can remodel.
Me:I liked it the way it was.
Me:All the antique details?
Cat:Perhaps we could look for some antique details at a salvage store. There are a lot of places we can get some cool stuff, I promise.
Cat:It’ll be fun!
Me:Yeah. Maybe.
