Seth
Chapter 4: Dinner

The small kitchen table looked absurdly crowded with the four bowls, plates, glasses, spoons, and steaming crockpot on it. The dining table hadn’t been used in months, and while clean, it was crowded with boxes filled with Gerald’s things—clothes, odds and ends—that he hadn’t bothered taking with him when he left.

She knew she should get rid of them, donate them to charity or something, the same that she should have done with Seth’s things, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

It’s not like he’s ever coming back.

Perhaps one day he would, having returned to his senses. Would she be happy to see him, or would the old guilt and silent animosity settle on the house once more? She honestly didn’t know, but now, as she heard the sound of Tom’s pickup chugging up the gravel drive, she felt a moment’s panic that she should have at least stowed all of this in the attic.

The truck came to a stop in the circular driveway and the slow country song that had been pouring out of the speakers shut off. She counted the seconds before she heard the sound of his door open and he stepped out, his boots crunching on the gravel. She didn’t hear any voices, and if she didn’t know better, she could swear that he was alone.

The footsteps made their way steadily towards the house and she hurriedly made her way to the front entrance way. She paused to check her reflection in the small round mirror that hung on the left side of the wall, but then stopped herself.

You’re being ridiculous. He’s coming over for dinner as a thank you and because you offered. Besides, it’s not like this is a date or anything. The weight of her wedding band became a subtle yet no less palpable reminder that she was still legally married to Gerald Daniels, and indefinite hiatus or whatever you wanted to call it aside, she had sworn an oath in front of God and their families to remain by his side until death parted them.

There was a tentative knock on the door and she shook her head. Being lonely has made you young and foolish.

She took a deep steadying breath and opened the door.

Tom spun around, almost as if he hadn’t been expecting her to answer the door that fast.

He cleared his throat and hurriedly tipped his hat. “Evening.”

He stood outlined in the purple twilight wearing a clean plaid shirt, jeans, and a brown suede jacket. He was holding a bakery box in his hand, and on the faded porch swing next to him sat a bottle of wine that looked freshly chilled.

There was no sign of the “buddies” he had mentioned earlier that morning, and coupled with the wine and pastries, she began to suspect that had been a ruse all along.

As if sensing her silent disapproval, he cleared his throat again. “I meant to call and tell you that something came up and my buddies had to take off, but I realized that I didn’t have your cell number.” He waited for her to respond, and when she didn’t he continued. “I hated to think you went to a lot of trouble with dinner, so I thought that I’d show up, you know, to be neighborly. I also brought desert.” He held out the bakery box and she could see through the little cutaway window that it was a pie of some sort. He seemed almost sheepish, and if she didn’t know any better, slightly embarrassed.

“It’s store bought. I never could cook anything besides sandwiches and microwave popcorn, and as for the wine, I had that lying around the house.”

She almost laughed but didn’t. Tom was way too nervous to be here for any other reason other than to take her up on her offer, and she felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders.

“I hadn’t thought as far as desert went and wine would be lovely. It’s red, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Yes it is.”

“Perfect. It’ll go well with the pot roast I made.” She stepped back and opened the door all the way. “Please, come in.”

He tipped his hat again, and then gathering up the wine in one hand and balancing the pie in the other, he stepped over the threshold. He glanced around as if unsure where to set the stuff down, and she gestured toward the kitchen in the adjoining room.

“You can set that down on the kitchen table if you can find any room for it. I was expecting at least three guests, so it’s a bit crowded.”

“We could eat in the dining room if it’s not too much trouble. I could help you carry the dishes and whatnot from the kitchen over there if you want.”

They had to pass through the dining room on their way to the kitchen, and when Tom saw all the cardboard boxes marked “Gerald” on them, he stopped.

“Oh.” His eyes glanced away from the boxes and back to her. “I’ll just set this down in the kitchen.”

There was clearly more left unsaid hanging between them, but she let the matter go and the moment passed. She motioned towards the kitchen and he continued to follow her, the sound of his boots seeming to fill the emptiness of the surrounding rooms. It felt good to have company over, to have a connection with another living being if only for a couple of hours to break the lonely monotony of her day to day life.

Tom managed to find a spot on the table for the wine, but it was too crowded to allow room for the pie.

“Just set it on the counter for now.” She began to rummage around in the drawers for the corkscrew she knew was in there somewhere, and after the second drawer revealed nothing, she shut it with a bang.

From behind her Tom cleared his throat. When she turned around he held up a corkscrew which he had apparently withdrawn from his jacket pocket.

She scoffed. “Well, you certainly are full of surprises aren’t you?”

He extended it towards her. “Is that a bad thing?”

She took it and set about opening the wine. She shook her head. “No. It’s…good, actually. I haven’t had too many surprises in my life lately. Well, other than that meteor nearly crashing into my house last night and those strange rocks I found this morning.”

She carefully levered out the cork and set the opened bottle of wine on the table to breathe. She could feel Tom’s eyes on her as he patiently waited for her to continue.

“You said you found some strange rocks this morning? Strange how?”

In answer she reached over and took one off of the windowsill where they’d been sitting all day. She handed it to him and he took it, carefully turning it over and over in his hand.

This close she couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t have a wedding band, but the skin on his ring finger was slightly pale compared to the rest of his hand. Had he recently been divorced, separated?

“Well, that’s the darndest thing, isn’t it?” He handed the rock back to her. “You think maybe they’re part of the meteor or something? I haven’t lived here as long as everyone else, but I’ve never seen anything like it. Seems almost like they were meant to be that shape or something.”

The rock was warm from his hand, and she hurriedly set it back on the windowsill. “I don’t know. All I know is that I followed the trail of damage all the way to Wilson’s Pass and then there was nothing. No crater, no scorch marks, nothing. Just a handful of these strange rocks scattered around the dry riverbed.”

She stopped, aware that a tremor had entered her voice. Beside her Tom scuffed his feet, unsure how to respond, though no doubt fully aware of why it was there.

“Seth would have loved all of this: the meteor, the strange rocks and the mystery of this whole situation.” She exhaled slowly. “Thank you Tom, for repairing the fence for me.”

“It was the least I could do.”

She nodded. “No, it’s more than that. You ensured that I remembered Seth for who he was, and not…not….” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence, but Tom seemed to understand.

She was keenly aware of how close he was standing next to her and she held her breath, afraid to shatter the moment.

“If you ever need anything—and I mean anything—just give me a call. Let’s not let a fence stand in the way of being neighborly.”

“I’d like that. In fact, I think that we should drink a toast.” She took up two of the glasses off the table, which were in fact jelly glasses rather than wine stems.

Tom poured the wine and they raised them in unison. “To being neighborly.”

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