UNINVITED

Chapter 2

I made another stop at the gas station. TurbOil was a subdued space with a convenience store that had seen better days. The only car in sight was a gray Mazda 6. I pulled out my credit card from my handbag. Clara watched me as I went for the door and opened it, bringing one leg out. She instantly jumped into the driver’s seat. I held up a finger. “No, Clara. Stay.”

     She went back to her quilt and meekly lay on her stomach. I smiled at her and stepped out, shutting the door. My high heels clacked on the gravel as I walked over to the pump. Pulling back the nozzle, I pushed it into the gas tank and inserted my credit card in the machine, then jabbed in regular. The numbers clicked faster than I anticipated on the display. When my tank was filled, I yanked out the nozzle and replaced it on the pump.

     Glancing up, I spotted a chubby man in a cheap shirt and jeans behind the counter through the glass panel window. I neared my car and dropped the credit card on the dashboard, then retrieved my handbag. Clara wagged her tail and meowed again.

     “I’ll be back.”

     Tucking my handbag to my shoulder, I made my way to the store with the OPEN tag dangling to the wind. The door squealed as I pushed it and entered. I was greeted with a sharp scent of gasoline mixed with a decade’s smell of rancid food. The short-bladed fan in motion did nothing to drag away the scent that hung in the store. Four or five seconds later, I was breathing the air like everyone else here.

      The man behind the counter was much older than I expected, probably in his mid-fifties. His bulging eyes were glued to the TV screen which showed men in jerseys running around a vast green field.

     I hadn’t turned around when I heard a loud bang, and then the man shouted, “Foul! Shit!”

     His eyes hadn’t left the TV and he continued muttering to himself.

     I walked down the short aisle, searching for the things I’d need. I had shopped before I set out. I didn’t even expect to get anything much in a convenience store that wasn’t well-stocked. Most of the shelves were either empty or filled with two or three items. I grabbed a couple of them—Fruit Loop, nutritional bars, candies, Oreos, and of course, something for Clara.

     I neared the refrigerator and decided against grabbing a hamburger in this store. Instead, I went for a bottle of water and closed the fridge. As I juggled the items to the counter, I collided with a tall man with square shoulders wearing a polo shirt, suede jeans, and calfskin boots. My items went crashing down to the floor.

     Swiftly, I dropped to my knees and picked them up.

     “Oops,” he let out, joining me on the floor. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you. Here. Let me help out.”

     I grabbed the Fruit Loop onto my overcoat. “It’s my fault. No need to apologize.” Which was true. If I had been paying attention to my surroundings, I would have noticed his presence and used the other path.

      He collected several items, carrying them into his shirt. Just as I gripped the bottle of water, our hands brushed and he ended up holding my wrist. His touch was cold, it almost sent a chill down my spine. Ever since Tom insinuated I had been cheating on him, I stayed aloof from men, until of course, I met James.

     He was still holding my hand when I looked up. Our eyes met. Dark-haired, icy blue eyes, a Roman nose, and slightly pouty lips... he really did have the looks. I sent a subliminal message: Let go of my hand. I’ve got that. But I wasn’t sure he got it. He just stared at my face.

     I said sheepishly as I lifted a leg. “You’re holding my wrist.”

     His brows lifted when he glanced down. “Oh. You’ve got that.”

     “Yes,” I said.

     He let go of my hand, and I stood slowly.

     “I’m so sorry I bumped into you. I really should have seen you. I heard the door when it opened,” he said.

     “It’s fine. Truly.”

     He followed me to the counter and watched as I dropped the items on top. He added the ones he was clutching.

     The man didn’t seem to have noticed us I doubt he saw our little accident. I cleared my throat before he finally faced us.

     As he rang up my items, occasionally peeping at the TV screen, the man next to me said, “You don’t look familiar. You ain’t from around here.”

     I was reluctant to open up a conversation with him, but he seemed like a nice guy so I said, “You got it right.”

     “Me neither.”

     I just nodded. I had this feeling he wanted to talk more, which was why he wasn’t leaving my side already. I didn’t see him when I entered the shop, but I guessed he came before me, and the Mazda 6 outside was his.

     “So...,” he began, “where are you from and what brings you to Vermont?”

     I was about to say, “Piss off. Really not in the mood.” But I refrained. I was surprised my appearance wasn’t giving the ‘stay off’ vibe anymore.

     “New York. I’m on a weekend getaway,” I said.

     “You’re far away from home, Miss.”

     “I’m pretty much aware.” I wanted to add that it was my plan to be far away from home, but I let it pass. I’d hate if anyone found out I was running away from an abusive marriage to contemplate.

     “Here you go, Miss,” the shopkeeper said.

     I didn’t understand why everyone addressed me with Miss when I had Tom’s ring on. People never really pay attention. But I always did. Growing up with a sick Mom and being the eldest, I was always alert and wary of my environment. One mistake and it was a matter of life and death.

     As I dug into my bag for the dollar notes I had stashed earlier, I noticed the man beside me wore a ring too, exactly at the place I wore mine. He’s married just like I am. From the looks of things, I wasn’t sure he lived in Vermont. He was probably on a weekend getaway just like me. I wondered if he came alone.

     I pulled out the dollar notes and stretched them toward the man.

     He collected it, counted, and gave me my change.

     I put it in my bag.

     “I guess this is where we part ways,” the man said as I went for my bagged items.

     “Yes. Bye.” I waved at him and retraced my steps to the entrance. I felt his stare on me as I walked away. Now he was starting to creep me out.

     A droplet of icy rain hit my face when I left the store. I better be on my way. I increased my steps to my car. It was only when I passed by the Mazda 6 parked in front of my Lexus that I noticed her. A brunette sitting in the passenger seat. How come I missed her the first time?

     As I wrapped my head around that, it occurred to me she wasn’t in the car the first time. That was the Mazda 6 I assumed belonged to the man I bumped into in the store. And the man wore a wedding ring. She must be his wife. I craned my neck to get a look at her when she suddenly rolled down the window and our eyes met.

     She stared at me, and I looked back at her. She had doe eyes, a long nose, and an oblong face. Her brown hair was short to her nape—the front spiked up. A pixie cut. Her eyes bored into mine, and somehow I saw my reflection in her.
   
     Weird, I heard myself mutter as I slid into the driver’s seat, fastened my seatbelt, and hit the road once again.