Untitled, Chapter 2

            The
business card was burning a hole in her purse as Dyanne drove home.  Xavier Stevenson, Executive Director, X-Act Publishing.  Should she really contact him?  There couldn’t be any harm in it.  He was just doing his part as a concerned neighbor, wanting to be sure that she arrived home safely.  A sweet gesture, really.

            She got home, tossed her keys and purse on the couch, and took her groceries into the kitchen while she mulled it over.  Milk and eggs were quickly put away, so she got out a bowl, spoon and a wine glass and served herself some ice cream with wine.  Her phone buzzed as she was heading back to the living room to put on her movie.  Evan.

            Make it home ok?

            She typed a quick, affirmative response, and there was no further communication between them.  Work kept Evan very busy; she never expected to hear anything from him while he was at work.

            The card seemed to be calling her name from inside her purse.  Dyanne stared at the bag from across the living room, trying to make up her mind as to her next move.  She took a swig of wine, not taking her eyes off her purse.

            What the hell.

            She crossed the room quickly, darting her hand inside her purse and instantly retrieving her prize.  Xavier Stevenson…  Pulling her phone out, she typed in the number scrawled on the back of the card.  Just one quick text, and that’d be it.

            I made it home safe and sound. Thanks for your concern.

            There.  See, now that wasn’t so scary after all, was it Dyanne?

            Now that she had taken care of that bit of business, she unwrapped her new DVD and put it in the player.  She grabbed a blanket from her stash on the way back to the couch, and cozied up under it.

            Just as she was about to dig into her ice cream, her phone buzzed.  She froze.  He was texting her back?

            Thank you for humoring me. Have you opened the wine yet?

            As if he had reminded her, she took another sip.  It was very good – he had good taste.

            I’m enjoying a glass as we speak.

            The previews had finished on her movie, and it was now sitting, waiting on the DVD Main Menu for her command.  She pressed “Play”, and her phone alerted her of a new notification.

            I’m sorry you have to be alone on a night like tonight.

     Don’t be, she responded.  It’s not an unusual thing for me.

            Dyanne was obsessed with her phone.  She was missing the first part of the movie, continuously checking for new messages.

            That’s an honest shame. Do you at least enjoy the solitude?

            She had to pause at the question.  Not because she didn’t know the answer – she knew she hated the solitude – but because it was a big question to be answering for a stranger.  Her phone distracted  her attention before she could answer his first text.

            You have my name, but I never got yours. May I ask who I’m speaking with?

     A much easier question to answer.  My name is Dyanne Lutz. Pleased to meet you. :-)

            They weren’t strangers anymore, right?  She continued.  And no, I don’t enjoy the solitude. But I don’t have much of a choice. My husband works late hours.

            The movie droned on in the background.  Dyanne would have to watch it again another night, when she could actually pay attention.  She took another sip of wine.

            Let me take you out to dinner sometime, as a friend. You shouldn’t be alone.

            She sat up straighter.  No way he really just asked that.  I’m a married woman, Xavier. It’s very inappropriate to even ask that.

            In a show of indignation, Dyanne tossed her phone to the other side of the couch and focused intently on the movie.  A woman – Dyanne assumed the heroine – was crying inconsolably.  It must be the part where the girl breaks up with the guy, just before the part where the guy comes running back in, begging her to take him back.

            When her phone buzzed from a reply, Dyanne couldn’t resist.  What was it with this guy, that drew her like flies to honey?

            Dyanne, I didn’t mean it that way. I said as friends. Do you refuse dinner with everyone but your husband? You make him sound controlling.

            This Xavier guy was starting to piss her off.  I go to dinner with plenty of my friends, thank you very much. He’s not controlling at all.  She hit “Send” with a vicious jab of her thumb.  After another swig of liquid courage – could you call wine that? – she sent another message.  Fine. I’ll go to dinner with you - AS FRIENDS!!

            Polishing off her glass of wine, she took her dishes to the kitchen sink, not even bothering to pause the movie.  She wasn’t paying attention anyway, what was she going to miss?  Her phone buzzed.

            Very reasonable of you, Dyanne. When would work best for you?

            She had to think about it for a second.  Evan sometimes had to work on the weekends.  After consulting their family calendar, Dyanne saw that this weekend was one of those weekends.  We could go tomorrow night.

     Sounds perfect. When and where should I pick you up?

            Despite herself, Dyanne was grinning like a freshman getting asked out to prom by the hottest senior in school.  6:00, my house? she sent to him, along with her address.

            It’s a friend-date then. I’m looking forward to it. Good night, Dyanne.

            At that text message, she realized the time.  It was nearly 9:00.  Evan would be home soon.  She quickly typed a “Good night” in response, then picked up her mess in the living room.  Evan wouldn’t want to come home to a messy house.  As soon as that was done, she went ahead and took her vitamins and went to bed.  She wanted to be well-rested for her date tomorrow.  Well, her friend-date.