1980
The leftover food had been stacked in Tupperware containers in the refrigerator. The kitchen had been cleaned and the countertops wiped until they sparkled. Hawke was on the second page of the newspaper reading editorials written by new journalists. He had already drifted through television stations and played a couple game shows. Kelly was late with dessert. He knew he should have been the one to go get it. Kelly never stopped at just one item. There was always something else she had to get besides what she always went to the store for.
Whatever she was getting this time was taking her over ninety minutes and he wasn't mad. He was worried. After dinner, he had asked about ice cream. When they discovered the freezer was empty, Kelly volunteered to go get a gallon from the market down the street from her house, ninety-two minutes ago.
Hawke had just switched on the TV again to scan channels when he heard two doors close. He got up from the couch and opened the door. Two police officers stepped on the porch and Hawke felt his stomach drop.
"Is she alive?" He asked, after finding the words he was looking for.
One officer looked down at the floor, a sure sign of bad news while the other officer looked him straight in the face. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, sir, but Miss Foster was killed in a car accident tonight."
Those were the last words Hawke remembered hearing from that officer's mouth before he went deaf.