Day Four

Thirty-One, A Novel

Glad to have you here with me. Did you ever read the magazine serials, the stories with "to be continued" and you had to wait until next month to find out what happened? In this serial,you only have to wait one day.

Day One
Day Two
Day Three

DAY FOUR, THURSDAY

Morgan picked up the telephone, the phone number, scratched on the back of a receipt, held in her other hand. She clicked in the numbers. Slowly, doubting, questioning.  Why did it have to be so hard to make a simple decision? Actually, she didn’t have to make a decision. Yet. This was just for information. Just do it. She finished the row of numbers and stood, waiting for the ring on the other end.

“Sunnyside Home, this is Clarisse.”

“Yes, Clarisse, I spoke with you yesterday at the book store. About visiting there, maybe volunteering?”

“Oh, Morgan, yes, I remember. Thank you for calling. Would you still be interested in coming?”

What am I doing? Morgan thought. I hate old people places. They smell and they are depressing. Why am I doing this? Yesterday, at the book store, when she and Clarisse had reached for the same book off the shelf, they had laughed and talked. Comfortable and natural, the conversation turned toward work. Which made her uncomfortable. Why was it that one’s identity was so closely tied with what one does? “What do you do?” was the inevitable question to come up in a conversation. What were you supposed to say when you did nothing but mope around? “I talk to my plants.” Or even worse, “Nothing,” scares people away faster than a bee buzzing around their head.

Emptiness over the phone snapped her from her reverie. Clarisse waited for her answer.  Without over-thinking (another one of my problems, over-thinking, came the fleeting thought) she answered, “Yes, I would like to come. When would be a good time?” The fears welled up. Why am I doing this? What am I thinking? No over-thinking, just do it, then decide. Get the facts, first, then drive yourself crazy with the thinking.

“Wonderful.  I have off the next two days, but could you come in Sunday afternoon? About two o’clock?”

“That would be fine. I will see you then.”

“I will be at the front desk. Come in through the door off the parking lot. You have the address?”

“Yes, thank you. See you on Sunday.” She hung up the phone. Her breath was short and shallow. Once, I will go once. That is all. Just once.


If you want to read this in consecutive order, go to WordsbyMo.blogspot.com