Food?

    Evelyn looked into her empty fridge. She didn’t buy any food. How stupid of her. She paced around her house for a while, took a shower, before finally laying down on her makeshift bed. She rolled over staring at the clock. Midnight. Her stomach growled reminding her it was empty. The delightful tune of her cell phone filled the house. She answered it in her sweetest voice. “Hello Dillon.”

    He wanted to say hello my love but dared not. He finally managed to say, “everything okay?”

    “Yeah, everything is fine.” She let out a long sigh.

    “But?” Just as she could read him, he had his moments when he could read her.

    “I’m so daft.” She giggled.

    He knew she couldn’t see him smile. “Forget something?”

    “Don’t laugh at me,” she said playfully.

    He protested, “I’m not.”

    “No but you’re smiling. I can hear it in your voice.”

    “Guilty. Go look in the cabinet beside the fridge.”

    Without saying a word she did, where she found a paper bag. She didn’t think anyone used paper bags anymore. She sat in the floor, pulling items out of the bag. Inside were two ready to eat tuna salad lunches, a bag of chips, a couple pops, a box of crackers, a box of raisin cakes, and a chocolate rose.

    “Evelyn?” He didn’t hear her rattle in the bag anymore. “Evelyn?” Where was she? “Don’t cry.”

    “I will cry if I want to.” She snuffed. “When did you do this?”

    Was she angry? Oh no, he did the wrong thing. He took a deep breath. Be a man. He encouraged himself. “I had Deputy Tolliver stop and pick up a few things I knew you, I remembered,” he corrected himself, “that you liked.”

    She snuffed louder, “was it Deputy Tolliver’s idea to get the rose?”

    Yes blame it on him. His mind screamed. His heart said, no you did it face the music. “No, I.” He hesitated. “I.”

    “Thank you.” She sobbed.

    “Please don’t cry.” He was fighting his own tears. As if he hadn’t already cried enough tonight. She did say thank you. That did mean she wasn’t mad? Right?

    “You always were trying to take care of me.”

    She couldn’t reach through the phone and smack him for saying this, so he was going to say it. “You wouldn’t let me.”

    “No, I didn’t, did I.” He was amazed. She didn’t fight him down. “So are you going to have dinner with me or do I dine alone?”

    “If anything was open, I’d come get you and take you to dinner.”

    “I wouldn’t let you.”

    “Why?” He was slightly hurt.

    “I’m dressed for bed and you’re in the bed.”

    “How do you know that?”

    “Well, now you’re getting up going to the kitchen so that we can have dinner together.” She giggled through her tears.

    “Evelyn,” he sternly reminded her that she hadn’t answered his question.

    “I heard the gentle hum of that big box fan.”

    “I could be sittin’ in the kitchen with a fan on.”

    “You could be but you’re not.”

    Here goes, he took a deep breath. “I’ve missed you Evie.”

    “I was very hurt when you didn’t come to my wedding. I sent you an invitation.”

    Don’t tell her the truth. LIE! He pushed down the knot in his throat long enough to say, “couldn’t.”

    “Did you even read the letter?”

    A million times, was what he wanted to say. “Hmm humph,” was what he was able to squeeze out.

    “I can just see you now standing on the yacht with my lavender brides’ maids dress on: well, I might have for the sake of taste got you a lavender suit: your blond hair being tossed by the ocean breeze.” She sighed. “I would have had to have your shoes custom make.”

    He could see himself standing on that yacht but as the groom.

    “This tuna thingy is good. What are you eating?”

    “Peanut butter and crackers.”

    They continued eating in silence, “we make a good pair don’t we?”

    How was he going to answer that? He wanted to say we could make a great pair. Even, I would like to find out. After several minutes, she let a light moan escape.

    “Evie, don’t fall asleep on the kitchen floor.”

    “Why not?” She more groaned than said.

    “Go to bed.” She said nothing. “Evie?” There was nothing but silence. “I should have invited you to stay with me until you got some furniture.”

    “I wouldn’t have.”

    “Stubborn.” He teased.

    “What’s your point? You are the king of stubborn.”

    “I learned from the Queens father. And that is my point.”

    “K.” She sounded like a child. Standing next to him, she looked like a little girl.

    “Evie?”

    “Workin’ on it Mr. Pushy Pants.”

    He chuckled lightly. God how he loved her and he knew it. If the last 30 years had taught him anything, it had taught him that he loved her. He heard something click, followed by deafening silence. Then he heard another click.

    “Evie?”

    “Hmmm.”

    “I’m gonna say goodnight and you’re gonna hang up the phone.”

    “No,” she hissed. What was this? “No.”

    “No, you’re going to talk me to sleep.”

    “Really,” he teased.

    “Hmm humph.”

    He really wanted to say I love you. “Evie, I can come over if you want me too. You don’t have to be alone tonight.” He thought he heard her crying. “Evie?”

    “I need to get used to this.” She was crying.

    “Why?”

    She snubbed, “I can’t do this.”

    “Evie?”

    “Not tonight.” There was an awkward moment of silence. “Goodnight.”

    “Evie!” He said in a panic. All he heard was silence. Did she hang up her phone? There weren’t any of those beeping noises that are associated with a busy or disconnected signal. “Goodnight Evie?” He finally heard her again still crying. She hadn’t closed the phone. He looked at the clock it was one o’clock. He looked down at himself. He was wearing scrub pants. Good enough, he told himself as he threw on a t-shirt.