Page 60 - TheBridge_Vol16
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She held the door open, I looked Mrs. “Caroline,” I said.
Anderson in the eye, and I felt a little sad for
her. A housewife. She looked lonely, not like She nodded again. “Pretty.”
the type to murder the flower delivery girl.
I couldn’t figure out what she was doing.
We sat across from each other at a long glass She stared blankly at me now, her bright
table, the sweat of my glass leaving a dark, lips still pointed upwards, left foot shaking
wet, ring on the cocktail napkin. “You’re side to side, up and down. Her nervousness
new?” she said, rubbing out the inevitable was intriguing.
lipstick stain on the rim of her glass. I
watched her anxiously rub at the stain, then What she wanted from me was a mystery.
roll the corner of her napkin in and out, in She was twice my age so she wasn’t exactly
and out. Faster, then slower. Antsy. looking for friendship. She clearly didn’t
have any children so it was impossible
“Excuse me?” I said. she needed a babysitter. Dog walker? I
wondered, glancing to a dried up water bowl
“You’re new to delivering the flowers?” she on the ground beside the refrigerator. But no
said, pointing a thumb over her shoulder dog. No anything, just a surrounding sense
towards the front door. of emptiness that prevented me from finding
out anything more about her.
An elaborate kitchen was behind her with
marble floors and empty countertops that Mrs. Anderson stood up and her high heels
sparkled in the mid-afternoon sunlight. clicked with an echo against the marble floor.
Everything was empty. On my way in, I’d She reached for the water pitcher to refill her
skimmed the tables in the foyer and kitchen own empty glass, mine still nearly full.
for a bowl of mints. None. There wasn’t a
single picture on any of the walls, just a pair “We’re in the process of moving,” she said,
of boring paintings hung on either side the as if she knew what I was thinking.
empty China cabinet. Flowers, ironically.
It was my turn to nod. Mrs. Anderson
In the middle of the glass table was nothing stared at me a minute too long, her right eye
but a pitcher, awkwardly sitting between twitching just enough for me to notice.
us like an offering, yet too inconvenient for
either of us to reach. “I’m sorry if I insulted you earlier,” she said
softly, “with the flowers and everything. I
I nodded slowly. The ice water hit my teeth didn’t mean it. They’re beautiful, really, it’s
with an aching pain as I sipped from the just.” She trailed off, gracefully returning
glass. “Just started today.” to her seat.
Mrs. Anderson nodded. “I don’t believe I “He sends them every week, and it doesn’t
caught your name,” she said, tilting her right fix anything. It will never fix anything, of
ear towards me. course.” She looked towards me, searching
48 | The Bridge Vol. XVI | 49
