Short Story ~ Chapter 1

Chapter 1

5:20am, shit! Ten whole minutes before my alarm is going to go berserk, forcing me to start what I can only imagine will be a completely unremarkable Wednesday. I lay there waiting as the 10 minutes pass and stop the alarm before everyone is woken to the tune of an old fashioned telephone. As usual I haven’t prepared for the day; my clothes sit in a heap on the floor next to my bed. I grab what I hope will resemble an outfit that was picked out with purpose. As I head into the shower I think “Is this really it?’

Twenty minutes later I emerge from my too long but much enjoyed shower, get myself dressed and wrap my signature towel around my head. Into the boy’s room I know I’m in for a fight, how is it these two are awake at the crack of dawn on the weekends and yet when I need them up and coherent they instantly turn into 16 year old. Ugh, another obstacle to my day. Seeing as I don’t really want to face the day anyway I trudge through.

I somehow manage to get these two to daycare just after seven, and after 3 failed attempts to leave saying ‘One more kiss Mommy’, ‘One more hug Mommy’. I do love them more than I ever though possible but I do have to get to work so I plant one more kiss, dish one more hug and make my escape. The only time in my day that is 100% mine is my commute, since I’ve been feeling like crap I decide to go with the highway, one less thing to think about. Just like yesterday and the day before it is a tremendously boring ride. I belt out to my iPod not caring who is watching me try to master my all girls playlist.

All of a sudden I am at work it just before 8am and I’m not sure I could tell you exactly how I got here. Thank goodness for auto pilot! As I grab my keys and head into the door a feeling of dread looms over me, “Am I really here again?” I’ve set my stuff down started my computer and check the clock, surely it must be well past eight now…NOPE…ten minutes early…AGAIN! “This must be some sort of sign?” As I wait for my programs to load I grab my phone to check my personal emails.

So many subscriptions, I swear just to save 10% is really starting to fill up my time. I’ve deleted about 50 emails all trying to sell me some something or other ‘Buy 1 Get 1 Free!’, ‘Last Chance to Save!’; ‘Everything in the Store is 50% Off!’ just before I decide to select all and delete a subject line catches my eye:

‘Mystery Man – DON’T DELETE!’ Oh great, someone sold my email address and now I can only assume some Nigerian prince wants to send me his inheritance so long as I send him blah, blah, blah. Being in the financial world I always keep my eyes peeled for these types of fraud. I open the email so I know who to send it to for reporting:

My Dear Little Miss,

I have watched you look longingly out your window as you drive past me on this highway of life. When you pick up your coffee and occasionally while out to lunch. I dare not say hello because I fear you will see past me, through me, or not see me at all. I wish to I could fulfill your dreams and see a smile on your face again. I want to find that spark you once had in your eyes!

Forever Yours,

Mystery Man

What? Who? When did he say? My eyes dart around the office looking for this mystery man then I realize it is quite possible he has the wrong email address. I hardly ever get coffee or really lunch for that matter. I reply against my better judgment, clearly this guy is hung up on some chick and I rather not have to field any more of his emails. He is probably a stalker anyway…Yes most definitely a stalker!

Mystery Man,

I regret to inform you that you have the wrong email. I wanted you to know so you would not waste any more time filling my inbox and be set straight on your path.

Good Luck,

Not “My Dear Little Miss’

Back to reality, the thought of a secret crush definitely eased up my melancholy mood, the thrill of something like that…well it is exciting to say the least. Okay now, back to work, open Outlook, open Excel, open my browser, I am always waiting for programs. As I go though the countless emails…meeting requests, procedure updates, chain letters and of course Stephen’s daily dirty joke a new message pops up, no subject line:

No, Abigail I do not have the wrong email address. I look forward to ‘seeing’ you later!

“What the…?”

“I didn’t say anything!” Stephen sounding shocked at the loudness of my expression.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so loud” I thought I was talking to myself.

As I stare blankly at the screen my pulse begins to race. Who is this guy; I check the email address mysteryman@yahoo.com. It’s not much to go on but I’ll try my luck on Google. Well as I suspected thousands of results pop up, various news stories, movie reviews and of course the ever popular mystery man who was until recently showing up to the grave site of Edgar Allan Poe to leave three red roses and a bottle of cognac, he is know as the ‘Poet Toaster’; lots of listings and too many to scan through. I decide I should actually get some work done and soon enough I’ve worked straight through lunch and most of my day.

As the clock ticks five I gather my purse, phone and the printout of my earlier correspondence with Mysteryman@yahoo.com.  I am not even sure why I printed, I wonder how he got my work email, or my personal email for that matter! Does he know my phone number too? My Home Address? Oh Shit, my kids! Panic plows through me like a freight train, I have no idea what he knows or who this guy is.

I am not sure how I got here, the route I took or if I ran through any red lights or stop signs. I made it to daycare in twenty minutes, how fast was I driving? No I don’t want to know, my commute usually takes at least 45 minutes and that is when traffic is forgiving. It takes me about five minutes to compose myself; I take a few deep breaths and head inside. ‘MOMMY!!! Mommy’s here!!!....YAY!!!’ ‘Mommy I missed you!’ Okay, they are safe, a little overzealous but safe.

Sufficed to say the evening with these guys is the same…Dinner, a few kiddie shows, bath time and then bed. The monotony of my day is becoming a burden. I want to change things, but what my job, my house, my appearance for a moment I drift to my dreams; a large house overlooking the ocean, the sounds of waves crashing against the shore to lull me to sleep. It has a private beach and a huge backyard too, while I enjoy looking at the vast ocean it is not somewhere I will ever go swimming again especially after what happened…

“MOMMY” ahh, back to now, on my couch in our tiny house, Ben is yelling from his room at the top of his lungs.

“Mommy, I have to go potty!”

“Okay, I’ll be right there” sighing, I know he doesn’t have to go; he is just stalling the inevitability of bedtime. We do this dance every night; I am not sure why I would think that tonight would be any different.

It’s nearly nine pm now, the boys are finally out for the count, and it’s been a long day. I grab my book, my iPad and the remote and surf the channels, hoping tonight’s rerun of Grey’s Anatomy will be one I haven’t seen, I silently pray to the TV gods but to no avail, the same rerun I’ve seen one hundred times…okay maybe not one hundred but it sure feels that way. Okay, next device my iPad, I check Facebook hoping something interesting happened to one of the 80 or so friends I keep attached to my account, but alas their days seem to be as unremarkable as mine. Onto email I am very curious to see if my mystery man has emailed again. I am sorting through another series of sale emails, I swear I just cleared these out this morning but these guys are relentless, I think I get at least 3 emails from Target a day, then there is Babies’ R’ Us, Safeway…oh my god I seriously have to unsubscribe this is getting ridiculous! Then as if the world disappeared around me, only the subject line of his email was all I could see: Safety Ms Hamilton.

My dear Ms Hamilton,

I hope you arrived home safely, when you tore down the street I was concerned you might cause an accident. You can’t leave Ben and Philip without a mother too, they could have been orphaned! Whatever made you storm out of work must have been important and hopefully resolved by now. Please drive safely; I haven’t even had the chance to properly introduce myself.

Concerned,

Mystery Man