throughout Cedar Hill and surrounding areas. She’d see him on the news on a regular basis. Meredith frowned, suddenly realizing that David would almost certainly live in the same town where he was employed. Duh .
So now the question is, which is worse? David halfway across the country, only existing in my thoughts? Or a nearby resident, only a remote click away? Meredith considered it for a moment and decided that though he might be closer in many ways, he’d be further from her than ever.
“Good!” Meredith started at the sound of her own voice. She noticed David beginning to stir and quickly slipped from the room before he discovered her there, talking to herself like an idiot.
***
When Meredith’s off-days began, she decided to clean her house from top to bottom. Bitsy had left his mark in more ways than one. She started with the kitchen, and by lunchtime, had finished the dining area, her bedroom, and the bathroom, cringing at the amount of dog hair and paw prints that had to be cleaned up. She wagged her finger at Bitsy, wondering what he could do to earn his keep besides looking cute.
By mid-afternoon, she’d finished her bedroom closet and the living room, interspersed with laundry duty. When her whole house was completely cleaned and organized, she fell across her sofa with a satisfied sigh. Bitsy crawled up next to her and sighed as well, as if he’d helped with the chores.
Out of the corner of her eye, Meredith noticed a sheaf of papers and books stuffed in the shelves of one bookcase. She groaned, realizing she wouldn’t feel content until she organized it. Dragging her body off the sofa, she went over and began the process of sorting through everything, deciding what should be kept and what should be tossed.
Meredith found an old snapshot of her parents tucked between two of her historical novels. She had a professional photograph of them in a frame in her bedroom. This snapshot was blurry. She looked closely at the image of her father. He died when she was five so her memories of him were dim. He must’ve been wonderful to be married to Mom .
When her mother died, Meredith had written to David to let him know, hoping he’d make it to the funeral. She’d never heard from him—not even a note of condolence. He wasn’t there for her the way she’d been for him in his grief. That really hurt.
Sighing, she put the picture in the photo album where it belonged. Next to the album, she spied her school year books. Meredith hadn’t cracked them open in years. Intrigued and a little bored, she pulled them off the shelves. Flopping onto her stomach on the floor, she opened her tenth grade yearbook. When she located her own picture, she laughed out loud. A skinny kid with a clueless look grinned back at her. Next, she found David’s picture. He was skinny too, but definitely a cutie.
As she looked up the other shots, Meredith began to cringe. Around David’s photos, she’d drawn hearts, flowers, curlicues, and written embarrassingly mushy sentiments about him. There were quite a few pictures of him—action shots of his sports prowess, of his parts in plays while in the drama club, along with other random ones of him with all the popular kids. She’d been a shy, awkward youth, who went home straight from school everyday, unless she stayed to watch David in a soccer game after class.
Her own pictures told a story in themselves. Her freshman and sophomore pictures were rather pitiful with her frizzy hair and a dazed look in her eyes, but at least she’d been smiling. Her junior picture—the year David had left for college—was solemn. The following year photo held only a ghost of a smile. Meredith shook her head. How lost her world had seemed without him.
By the time she closed the books and slid them back onto the bookshelf, nearly an hour had passed. Meredith stood and stretched, glad, so glad, those years were long behind her.
***
David looked up expectantly when the door
So now the question is, which is worse? David halfway across the country, only existing in my thoughts? Or a nearby resident, only a remote click away? Meredith considered it for a moment and decided that though he might be closer in many ways, he’d be further from her than ever.
“Good!” Meredith started at the sound of her own voice. She noticed David beginning to stir and quickly slipped from the room before he discovered her there, talking to herself like an idiot.
***
When Meredith’s off-days began, she decided to clean her house from top to bottom. Bitsy had left his mark in more ways than one. She started with the kitchen, and by lunchtime, had finished the dining area, her bedroom, and the bathroom, cringing at the amount of dog hair and paw prints that had to be cleaned up. She wagged her finger at Bitsy, wondering what he could do to earn his keep besides looking cute.
By mid-afternoon, she’d finished her bedroom closet and the living room, interspersed with laundry duty. When her whole house was completely cleaned and organized, she fell across her sofa with a satisfied sigh. Bitsy crawled up next to her and sighed as well, as if he’d helped with the chores.
Out of the corner of her eye, Meredith noticed a sheaf of papers and books stuffed in the shelves of one bookcase. She groaned, realizing she wouldn’t feel content until she organized it. Dragging her body off the sofa, she went over and began the process of sorting through everything, deciding what should be kept and what should be tossed.
Meredith found an old snapshot of her parents tucked between two of her historical novels. She had a professional photograph of them in a frame in her bedroom. This snapshot was blurry. She looked closely at the image of her father. He died when she was five so her memories of him were dim. He must’ve been wonderful to be married to Mom .
When her mother died, Meredith had written to David to let him know, hoping he’d make it to the funeral. She’d never heard from him—not even a note of condolence. He wasn’t there for her the way she’d been for him in his grief. That really hurt.
Sighing, she put the picture in the photo album where it belonged. Next to the album, she spied her school year books. Meredith hadn’t cracked them open in years. Intrigued and a little bored, she pulled them off the shelves. Flopping onto her stomach on the floor, she opened her tenth grade yearbook. When she located her own picture, she laughed out loud. A skinny kid with a clueless look grinned back at her. Next, she found David’s picture. He was skinny too, but definitely a cutie.
As she looked up the other shots, Meredith began to cringe. Around David’s photos, she’d drawn hearts, flowers, curlicues, and written embarrassingly mushy sentiments about him. There were quite a few pictures of him—action shots of his sports prowess, of his parts in plays while in the drama club, along with other random ones of him with all the popular kids. She’d been a shy, awkward youth, who went home straight from school everyday, unless she stayed to watch David in a soccer game after class.
Her own pictures told a story in themselves. Her freshman and sophomore pictures were rather pitiful with her frizzy hair and a dazed look in her eyes, but at least she’d been smiling. Her junior picture—the year David had left for college—was solemn. The following year photo held only a ghost of a smile. Meredith shook her head. How lost her world had seemed without him.
By the time she closed the books and slid them back onto the bookshelf, nearly an hour had passed. Meredith stood and stretched, glad, so glad, those years were long behind her.
***
David looked up expectantly when the door
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