Epilogue
Jonathan wakes in an unfamiliar bed. Miserably cheery sunlight greets him on the other side of his puffy eyelids.
He drapes his elbow over his eyes to bring blessed darkness to his pounding head. He reaches sightlessly for the woman whose bed he now remembers ending up in last night.
There's no one there.
Jonathan raises his elbow and inch or two and peeks at the room. Empty. He notices that the knickers that had landed on the foot-side bedpost are gone, too. After some early-morning grumbling, Jonathan finally drags himself out of the empty bed to find the room tidied. His clothes are piled neatly on a chair.
He dresses and he ventures into the rest of the apartment to find it similarly vacant.
Maybe she's picking up the paper or something.
He pads in stocking feet across the cold floor to the little kitchen. There's lukewarm coffee on the stove, a lone scone in the breadbox, and a note.
"'Had to dash'," Jonathan reads aloud, "'Had a great time last night. Help yourself to breakfast. Be seeing you, Samantha.'"
Jonathan sets the piece of paper on the table and stares at it, as if he expects the thing to suddenly gain the power of speech and explain itself. He thinks, She's supposed to be the one who wakes up alone and feeling . . . jilted?
Astonished, he says, "This is new."
~*~
Feedback appreciated at annegirl11@juno.com.
How will Evelyn juggle her first big break and her first real boyfriend? What wonders will our intrepid heroes discover in the ancient Celtic stronghold of Wales? Will Jonathan give up booze and vice for the love of a good woman? (Doubtful.)
Find out the answers to these enthralling questions . . . whenever the hell I get the next story written.
A/N: The Mummy belongs to people who aren't me. This story written for love, not money.