Wayward Wolf

Motormouth

Raymond

I love snowstorms. The falling snow and the wind create this background noise like white noise that make it easier not to think about anything. I can sit and read or work in the garage without my mind constantly bringing up images of Jerry and the day he ruined my life. Rainstorms do the same thing, but not as well as snowstorms. This is why winter is my favorite. That and the snow is a good excuse not to leave the house. Not like I do much anyway, but having a valid reason not to is always nice. That way Frankie can't get on my ass about being such a shut in. Like he'd understand. He has a real job and can go to places like bars or even the fucking grocery store without people looking and whispering.

Laying on my back on the couch, I zone out while listening to the wind and snow, the sound only broken up by branches scraping together. I'd just turned the news off, pleased to hear that the snow would last all weekend and maybe even into next week. A nap sounds like a good idea. Lunch isn't for another few hours, so I have time to kill.

Just as I make my decision and get a little more comfortable, a sound breaks up the monotonous drone of the wind. It sounds like snow crunching under feet. Twitching my ears, I focus on the noise. Definitely feet, but more than two. Not heavy enough to be a deer. The porch steps creak and I sit up, wondering what the hell is standing at my front door when there's a knock. It isn't Frankie, doesn't smell like him. It's smells feminine, like sugary perfume and coconut with that undertone of wolf. Definitely not Frankie's smelly ass.

I get to my feet just as there's a knock at the door. I swing the door open and before I even get out a word, a soft voice starts speaking. And doesn't stop.

"Hi, sorry for showing up like this but my car got stuck in a snowbank and my phone died and I saw your porch light and shifted and came straight here. I'm so glad someone's home. I thought I'd be stuck out here for hours trying to find civilization. I just need to charge my phone so I can call someone. The snow is just so bad it's hard to walk and the wind is blowing so hard. I should've just turned around, but one of my patients went into labor and I wanted to be there. My dad's going to be so mad, not that he isn't already mad, but now he'll just be more mad."

It's quiet for a moment until I ask, "Are you done?"

She huffs and I hear the sound of skin sliding against skin. "Yes," she says, her voice laced with annoyance.

I sigh, wondering if I'll still get that nap I wanted. Stepping to the side of the door, I gesture with my head towards the inside of the house. The sound of feet shuffle past me and once I hear her step off the rug, I swing the door closed. She squeaks and I can hear her shuffle a little further back. Must've swung the door too close to her. Oops.

Walking back into the living room, I count the steps until I reach the couch. I follow the back of it with my hand until I feel the dip of the armrest and collapse back, my knees bent over the armrest. I roll slightly off the couch, and have to catch myself with my hand before I fall off. Can't even fall onto the couch like I want to. Fuck you, Jerry.

Once I've righted myself and gotten comfortable, I point in the general direction of where I know the kitchen is. I know this woman can see me because I can smell her standing not far from where I am, and I can feel her eyes on me. "There's a phone charger in there next to the stove."

I keep phone charges plugged into every room in the house. Having to search around for those dumbass things is hell and it's just easier to avoid that. Knowing exactly where one is no matter what room I'm in is a blessing, even though I hate that I need it.

Her footsteps go into the kitchen and I hear the click of the charger being plugged into her phone. She sets it down onto the kitchen counter before her steps come back. I'm hoping she'll just find somewhere to sit or something to do until her phone charges and she can leave. She stands at my feet and it's quiet for a long moment. I wish it wasn't the case, but she actually smells really nice, and I hate it. She sounds young, probably younger than me, but entertaining ideas like that is the worst thing I could possibly do.