Chapter One

Chapter One.

Sharon heard the doorbell ring. She crept out of her room and stood at the top of the stairs, listening apprehensively. It rang again, jolting her to bolt downstairs, and she pulled the door open to see a short woman, standing arms akimbo, blinking in the golden October glow smiling at her. Sharon’s eyes scanned her from her red curly hair that had shed over her frayed sweat-shirt right down to her dusty, baggy pants.

Sharon instantly disliked her, and she knew that her irritation showed clearly on her face. She hated to talk to anyone in the morning and the only reason she opened the door to start with was because Sharon wanted someone else to be standing there, not her!

The woman spoke in a soft voice, “Hello, I’m sorry. Um, I just moved next door,” she hesitated and then blurted ‘could I borrow a cup of milk please?”

Sharon looked incredulously at the short, disheveled figure standing in her doorway and she heard herself say an equally incredulous, “Really?”

“Ah-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ….to be a bother, you know? I just moved … here. There,” she pointed behind her at nowhere, “I am so tired. Been driving for miles,” she said pointing that finger up and circling it, “The shops are not open yet and I am desperate for a hot cup of tea. Tell you the truth; I can’t make it to the cafe that I saw down the road. I am knackered. Please, I’ll bring it back when I buy myself some groceries.” She rambled.

“Okay,” Sharon’s voice was almost a whisper as she turned away and walked towards her kitchen leaving the door open. Her forehead knotted, she was irritated yet surprised at the audacity of the woman, and she wanted to tell her to go away even as she was opening the fridge door, and she widened her eyes as she could hear the woman walking in towards the kitchen.

“Hi, I’m Rita.”

“Sharon,” Sharon’s voice came out huskily. They stood there momentarily, looking at each other, up close. Then Sharon breathed out, releasing the tension,”Tea,” she said, making an effort to smile. “Why don’t you sit down, I’ll make us tea.” 

Filling a kettle, she looked over at Rita, who was at the window looking out at the back yard, “Wow! Beautiful!” Sharon heard Rita say to herself.

Sharon asked, “You take milk of course, and sugar?”

“Yes, milk for sure, thank you so much”

Sharon said pointing to a chair, “Sit. How long have you been on the road?”

“Ten hours, maybe more.”

“Oh,” Sharon said, mentally working out where could ten hours away be.

“Actually, I live literally down the road from here,” Rita said uncannily replying the unasked question, “I, sort of ran away, like I took off.” She paused, “My aunty died day before yesterday. I’d had it with that place where we lived, so I called a neighbor who drove a taxi, and I asked him to drive me to the airport,” she chuckled sarcastically, “but then when we got there, I didn’t know where to go. I just sat there in the cab. I told him I didn’t want to go to Montreal by plane and asked him if he would drive me there instead, and he agreed. Said it was going to be expensive and I said I didn’t mind. So, we go to Montreal. I have no idea why I chose Montreal, but my first impressions were that I didn’t like it, and I told him so. We had lunch and then we returned to Mississauga, I told him I was too sad to return home, I would live somewhere else temporarily until I can face being there. And so, he brought me here, said his friend wants to rent the place out and so here I am. So close, yet so far away.”

Sharon blinked at her as she sat down the two cups of tea, and she said, “Expensive lunch in Montreal,” and they both nodded, looking at each other with downturned smiles.

“Yep.” Rita sighed, “crazy.”

“You are only human and …” Sharon trailed off, then she found her words and she said them slowly as if she didn’t want to lose any one of them, “you are dealing with a loss. It isn’t my place to judge you.”

They drank tea in silence. Sharon sat wondering whether she should get some cookies or cake out, but she didn’t want this visitor to linger. “Anyway,” Rita said when she was done, “Thank you, and thank you for the tea. Thank you for letting me in.” then she got up quietly and left.

Sharon leaned back against the door and tears began streaming down her face. She bounded up the stairs and went back to her room. She stared at herself in the mirror and said to her reflection. “My husband left me last night,” she said as if she was finishing her conversation with Rita. But she was practicing saying it, because she knew she eventually will have to.