Wicked Whims

AUTUMN

Written by Amber Callista

"Griffin!" I holler before placing the hot mug of coffee on the counter. Spinning around in our galley kitchen, I reach out for the charred toast as it pops out of the toaster.

"Today of all days, I sleep through my alarm. Why didn't you wake me, Piper?" I shake my head, seeing him struggle to fasten his pinstriped necktie.

Quickly spreading the orange marmalade jelly on his toast, I set it next to his to-go coffee. "I tried but as usual you grunted and rolled over. Hey, did you move some boxes from the garage last night?" I walk toward him and assist with his tie, patting out a few wrinkles in his navy blue jacket.

"No. I went straight to bed after I got home. Why?"

"It was the strangest thing but I found an old box sitting on the doorstep this morning. It was full of what looked like medical supplies. I thought maybe you left it there in your exhausted state and forgot about it."

"I don't have time to breathe, let alone fish for boxes in the garage. I'll be out late again tonight but I have the day off tomorrow. Love you, sweetheart." Griffin kisses my forehead, grabbing his coffee and toast before he hurries out the door.

Walking toward the side entry of our two-story home, I gaze out the paned window and smile feeling blessed to have such a loving husband. Griffin and I met in my first year of college at the University of Vermont. He was attending law school elsewhere but had family that lived in Burlington so we ran into each other often. By the third or fourth meeting he finally asked me out and my twenty-one-year-old self couldn't have been more thrilled. Not only was he a ruggedly handsome man that made a pair of black framed glasses look sexy but he had such a way with words.

We dated for about a year before he proposed and were married a year after that. I've always had an infatuation with Halloween so we decided to have a nontraditional wedding and recited our vows on all hallows eve. We asked our guests to dress in costumes to make it more theatrical and it certainly made for one heck of a party. Pirates, zombies, and murderous serial killers lined the room of our wedding hall here in Stowe, Vermont.

Shaking the memories, I continue with my morning routine and put the last of the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. Hearing the home phone ring, I grab a hand towel to dry my hands and reach across the counter to answer it.

"Hello?"

Hearing nothing but static on the other end, I check the caller ID but nothing shows up.

"Hello? I'm sorry but I think we have a bad connection."

*CLICK*

Putting the phone back on the receiver, I start to walk toward the stairs as it starts to ring again.

"Hello?"

Again the same static noise.

"Listen, I don't know if this is a prank or you're selling something but I'm not interested."

Hanging up the phone, I set it in the receiver once again and make my way up the stairs to my office. I don't have many hobbies at twenty-nine years old but helping people talk through their struggles is most definitely one. That's why I've been a mental health counselor for the last three years and as of six months ago, it became permanently remote.

Turning on my computer, I reach for my headset and see the phone ringing again. This time my husband's name appears, so I answer quickly.

"Let me guess you forgot your briefcase?"