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A little midday shopping trip, playing hooky from work?
The angle blocks me from seeing the expression on her face, but her body language telegraphs the fact that she’s trying to hurry. Either she really has to pee, or she’s trying not to be late for a work call.
I honestly don’t know if she would run upstairs to use the bathroom attached to her bedroom or if she’d use the other one downstairs. But I’ve watched her through the living room windows enough to know that it’s not unusual for her to have a virtualwork meeting at any time of the day, so I’m hoping that’s what she’s in a hurry for.
As she moves beneath the bedroom window to the front door, I slowly unlock the window latch. Thankfully, I test these often enough, so it’s used to moving and does so silently.
Slowing my breath, I listen, and when I hear the front door open, I start to slide the window up.
By the time the front door slams shut, I’ve slid the windowpane all the way up.
The screens are still blessedly not in place. Cassandra removed them this spring to clean, but they’re still piled up in the corner of her garage, not installed.
I lift my left leg up and over the sill.
“I’m home! I’m home!” Her voice echoes up the stairwell, and I freeze.
Is she telling the empty house that she’s home, or does she somehow know I’m here?
I hear the crinkle of her dropping the shopping bag onto the floor, then the squeak of wheels on hardwood, and I picture her dropping into her little office chair.
So, a work meeting.
Half in, half out of her window, I stand motionless.
If I climb out now, I could crouch on the little section of roof right below the bedroom window, wait for her to finish her meeting and leave the living room, then drop down to the grass below. Or?—
My phone vibrates with a text.
Very few people have my number.
Still standing with my leg out the window, I pull my phone out of my pocket and look at the message from K. It’s a city, a location, and a time.
I know the place, and if I’m going to be there on time, I need to get on the road in the next thirty minutes.
The phone vibrates again in my hand. This time K is calling.
She never calls.
I squeeze my fingers around the phone, indecision warring for a moment before I accept the call.
I put it against the ear closest to the window, leaving the other one to listen for any movement from downstairs.
“Here,” I whisper.
There’s a pause. “Bad time?” Karmine’s voice sounds amused.
“Not the best,” I admit.
She snorts. “Fine. I’ll talk to you after.”
Rather than answer, I hang up and slide the phone back into my pocket.
We both typically work in life-and-death situations, so I appreciate the brief call. Butaftermeans she’ll meet me at the location after I’m done. And that means I don’t have time to wait for Cassandra’s work call to wrap up.
Fuck me, I guess.
I can hear the muffled, tinny noise of many voices talking through a speaker and assume the meeting downstairs is just starting.
