Evelyn reached for the silver sugar container on the kitchen table, and absentmindedly ladled three heaping tablespoons into her african roast. The diamond on her engagement ring slid towards her pinky, and she delicately twisted it back, positioning the wedding ring in the same fashion. She eyed the cordless warily. It was 7:20. Could she risk calling?
Knowing her daughter, she decided to wait until 8, at least. No one liked to be on the receiving end of Anna's morning tirades, least of all Evelyn. Evie was a morning person, always had been. And it had been somewhat of a disappointment when her only daughter refused to make any concessions to the inevitability of a new day dawning. In fact, the only utterances out of Anna's mouth before ten or so usually leaned towards obscenities.
Evie leaned back, sipping her coffee, and mentally recounted the chronology of the upcoming day. The rummage sale would start at nine, going until seven that evening. Maude and Lorraine, the two women who had run the rummage sale show for the twenty eight years before Evie had taken over, would undoubtedly arrive at least an hour early. Usually, those two were more high strung than she had ever been, especially when some sort of mini catastrophe struck.
Like that year that Ron Jackson decided that he would donate jars of piss unconvincingly disguised as 'homemade apple juice'. Evie knew Ron wasn't in possession of any of the accoutrements one might need to produce apple juice, and calmly told him to deposit his wares in the nearest toilet. Unfortunately, that had come after Maude had purchased (and sampled) a jarful.
Evie chuckled softly, and heaved herself out of the breakfast booth to take one last look around. Six gleaming onyx trash bags formed a line in foyer, patiently awaiting their release. Every year, she contributed at least five or six taunt bundles, thinking that since she was in charge of the operation, she should be donating more than the average participant. The last few years, she had taken to stopping by Target or Wal-Mart to recruit excess items. Arriving home, she had scuffed them up a bit, figuring no one would know the difference. Which exasperated Anna to no end, although Evie couldn't for the life of her figure out why.
Given the diligent planning that had gone into this year's sale, she couldn't foresee too much going wrong. Ted would be there at nine thirty to take over the first official shift. Evie didn't care too much for Ted; she shared Anna's opinion of him: another suburban suit trying to pass for a city slicker. He also lived next door to her ex-husband, a fact that made him slightly unsavory just due to proximity issues. He would leave around one, and Anna would work until four. Adam was set to close. Evie missed Adam, or more accurately, missed Anna and Adam. Building tents in the backyard when they were seven, playing soccer when they were twelve, practicing cheers and debate (respectively) when they were seventeen. Those two used to be inseparable. Now Adam was married, and Anna was rarely in the country, let alone Evie's house. Anna's college friend and Adam's wife, Darcy, would be helping Maude and Lorraine tag and organize things. Basically, all Evie had to do was supervise. She sighed, rinsed out her cup, and placed it in the dishwasher.
The kitchen was spacious and comforting; usually Evie loved to sit quietly with her coffee and appointment book, gazing out the bay window inlaid at the corners and the center with Venetian stained glass. A skewed view, to be sure, but a beautiful one. The environment was usually soothing, but suddenly it seemed vacant and oddly menacing. She walked out out, glancing back at the thin, color-rich rays of sunlight beginning to dapple the hardwood floor beneath her slippers, and headed towards the stairs. Reaching towards the mahogany banister, she turned her mind towards Frank.
It had been a little over a decade since he had moved on to greener pastures, specifically, the pastures that Lori provided, three blocks down and one block over. Occasionally, she would run into Lori at the grocery store, or Frank ushering their two children into the neighborhood library where Evie worked part-time. These encounters were always timid and forced, with glazed eyes and pinched, Mona-Lisa smiles. Both Frank and Lori stole furtive glances at the rings on her left hand, but Evie didn't care. Marriage was still forever as far as she was concerned. Even if, in hindsight, she hated the sonofabitch utterly.
Climbing the stairs, Evie wondered, as she did every year about this time, if she had eradicated all material traces of Frank. Their divorce had been finalized two days before the first rummage sale she had helmed, and he had been made to buy back several things he had wanted from the house at the sale. As had she. Lori had brought in Evie's mosaic breakfast tray from Florence, and a few potted plants they had acquired in Ensenada on their tenth wedding anniversary. The plants were brown and wilted, and the tray had remnants of egg and what looked like tomato juice on it. But Evie purchased them anyhow, taking them home and nursing them back to the glory they had once possessed before they were considered relics from a different life.
Her eyes swept the familiar vistas of the library, her study, and her bedroom. Nothing. Not one pair of old dress socks, or a favorite book or a chipped coffee mug. Nothing physical to remove, to place gently or forcefully in the comforting confines of a black trash bag. Her mind was the only thing that still felt invaded and betrayed by Frank's presence. That, and her finger.
Evie stood for a second, considering. Then, the phone rang.
3:58 p.m. - 2001-09-21
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