Geneva – 9

(Continued from Geneva – 8)

There was an old PT Cruiser parked in front of his house when he pulled up. It was clean and waxed, the windows spotless, but it had seen some hard miles; originally gold but now decorated with rust, putty and a rainbow bumper sticker. He wasn’t particularly surprised to see it. Knew it was just a matter of time. It had been fun while it lasted, that’s for sure.

He had considered many ways to play this out when it happened but still wasn’t entirely sure what was best. He’d just react to what he found, he thought. It’s what he always did. He pulled beside the Cruiser faster than he needed to, tossing a little gravel to announce his arrival. He hopped out of the truck, strode up the steps and stepped confidently into the house.

Geneva, looking like she had swallowed something bitter, was sitting at one end of the long couch wishing it were longer. At the other end of the couch sat Brittany-erect and challenging- wearing the same miserable face she had all day at the concert. His new lover’s green eyes had none of the light and sparkle that he found so captivating.

He caught the acrid whiff of cigarette smoke. Sitting in the chair-his chair-was the pot-head from the show. A not-quite-pretty but definitely-interesting looking lanky strawberry blonde. Her frizzed out hair was tied on top in a bun that looked like a wind-ruined bird’s nest. She had pulled herself to attention for him but what she hoped would be a defiant puff on a cigarette came off as nervous and contrived.

“No smoking in the house”, he said, opting for stern.

Red-faced, she apologized quickly and, having no ashtray, licked two fingers and squeezed it out dropping the butt into an almost empty beer can that she must have brought with her. He liked her quick action.

“So, this is a nice little get-together” he said, scanning the room. Hearing a tone she had never heard from him, Geneva’s eyes went from leaden dead to panicked darting. She glanced at his face but looked quickly away trying to judge his level of anger without really getting caught head-on in it. She looked at her two friends as if to verify they were really there. “I didn’t know you were coming home so soon.”

“Obviously. You didn’t know I was going to be here so you invited some people over that we specifically talked about you not doing, right?”

Brittany chose her opening to speak about him directly to Gennie. “See? Is this normal? He keeps you a prisoner here and won’t let you see your friends.”

Ignoring her, he addressed Geneva only. “Are you packed?”

“Packed? Why?”

“Didn’t they come to get you?”

“To get…? No! I’m not going anywhere.” Then wide-eyed, “Am I?”

“That’s up to you”, he said.




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