George was late again, darn it! Mary glanced at the clock: yes, it was six-thirty; George was due home twenty minutes ago. How was she supposed to have his dinner ready for him when he came in the door if he was late? And he was usually so punctual!
She decided to call his office. Maybe he’d had a late client? Yes, that had to be it. She would wait a few more minutes before calling.
She crossed the tiled floor to the pantry. Darn! They were almost out of everything. She tugged at her earlobe for a moment, thinking…Hadn’t she given George a list for the store? Maybe that’s why he was late/ Perhaps he had stopped at the Safeway to pick up those items?
It was a long list; she remembered that all right. They were running low on everything from paper towels to evaporated milk and coffee.
She was getting hungry now herself. Maybe she would warm up some soup, just until George got home with everything else.
She looked in the pantry again. There was only one can of Campbell’s left: Vegetable Beef; that was all right, Mary liked Vegetable Beef…
Late,late,late again! Oh, George! She would call the office. Maybe he’d had a late client. That had to be it–he was normally so punctual!
She lifted the receiver from the wall-mounted landline. She didn’t hear a dial tone. How odd! Maybe that terrific wind two days ago had knocked down the lines. Her android phone–but, no, that wasn’t working now either for some reason. She remembered trying to call her sister-in-law to see if George had stopped by on his way home from the office–yesterday, was it?
Well, what could she do, then? If George insisted on being late coming home…It was the second evening in a row that he was late coming home. She told herself not to worry, that worrying was silly. George always told her that she was silly to worry so much about everything, especially all those awful headlines.
Mary retrieved a small saucepan and turned on the back burner. At least the stove still worked, she thought, as the blue flame sprang up. George had been smart to buy this little camp stove; he had said at the time that no matter what happened they would at least have warm meals.
She ate her soup. There were only a few crackers left so she had them, too, in the soup.
Oh,no! She saw that she had left the darned burner on! Quickly she got up and turned it off. If George saw that, he would get on her about it, tell her she was getting forgetful…How silly of him! She was only seventy-two, a whole year younger than he was.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. Six-thirty! George was late, late, late! He’d been late yesterday, too–she remembered that. He must have had a late client at the office. Maybe she should call to be sure…But, no, that’s right: the phone wasn’t working. Maybe that terrible wind a couple of days ago had knocked the lines down.
Darn! Now the neighbors’ dogs were barking again, loud, big-dog barks. She went to the window and pulled aside the heavy drape. The hurricane impact window was cracked all over,
probably from that horrendous wind they’d had two days ago.
Plus, it was awfully dark for being so early on a June evening. And where had all that smoke come from? Had anyone called the fire department? She would do that as soon as the phone came back on.
Now–oh, for Pete’s sake! Those darn dogs were in her yard! What were the neighbors thinking of, letting their dogs roam like that? She should march over there and give them a piece of her mind…
The dogs had finally stopped that incessant barking though–thank God! But now they were tearing away at George’s scarecrow that had collapsed onto the ground. That scarecrow had been one of George’s good ideas, Mary thought fondly. He liked planting a few tomatoes, some summer squash, and a row of sweet corn, just a pocket sized garden he would harvest in the fall.
For a moment, Mary rubbed at her cheek in puzzlement. They didn’t normally put up the scarecrow this early. Why was the scarecrow there now? And–oh, my God! she thought, why was it wearing one of George’s good suits! They always dressed the scarecrow in any old rags that would stay on the frame. She would have to chide him for that–those suits were expensive! She sighed and let the drape fall back over the wrecked window.
Anyway, it was time to fix dinner. She glanced up at the electric clock over the drainboard: six-thirty! Darn it! George was late again.
Attended the University of Oregon. Currently living in Las Vegas, NV with one son, two large dogs and too many books.
