CHAPTER 1
There are often times that I just don’t feel like doing anything. Today is one of those days. I should be going to work, but I hate my job. I think it’s going to be a curl-back-up-and-sleep-my-life-away kind of day. Besides, I don’t feel too great. I think I’m coming down with something. Don’t know with what just yet, but I will by the time I call my boss and tell her I’m not coming in to work. I’m almost tempted to call in dead.
Nothing much on TV this time of day: a few idiot talk show hosts rambling on about their political views (like anyone really gives a shit what they think), news, news, and more news. I turned it off with a sigh and went back to sleep.
I ignored all the phone calls and text messages throughout the day but not the relentless banging on the front door. Who the hell is that? Somebody had better be dying to feel the need to beat on my door like that.
“Who is it?”
“Jeremy”.
“What are you doing here so early?” I asked as I opened the door and invited him in.
“Early hell! Cheryl, it’s 9:15”, he said.
“Oh shit”, I said. “I was supposed to meet you an hour ago. Damn. Okay, give me five minutes”.
“No need. I brought dinner with me”, he said, holding up a big brown paper bag.
Chinese. My favorite. My best friend of the past thirty five years definitely knows my weakness. Sometimes it’s a blessing, like now. Other times, ehhh not so much. We walked to the kitchen table, food in hand. I grabbed us both a beer and we sat down to eat.
“I just cannot get enough of these egg rolls”, I said.
Jeremy was too busy eating to reply. Just as well. I didn’t want to stop long enough for a conversation (even a short one). I was famished.
After finishing, we cleared the table and he grabbed us both another beer.
“Did you see the news earlier? It’s flu season again. Zombies roaming the earth isn’t too far away”. He grinned and swallowed the last of his beer. “Okay I’m going to head home. One of us has to show up for work tomorrow and it might as well be me. I have my kid’s college tuition to pay”.
Not to mention the alimony he’s paying to his last two ex-wives.
“I’ll check in on you tomorrow”.
“Okay”, I said. “And bring tacos”.
