Kristin DuMoulin dropped her briefcase onto
the doorstep and fished into her pocket for the keys. There they were! She
unlocked the front door and stumbled into the house, her armload of documents
and folders slipping onto the floor with a loud crash.
"Kristy? Is that you?" Michel appeared in
the doorway of the kitchen.
"Yeah," Kristy mumbled, as she scrambled to
pick up her things.
"Come on," Michel said with a warm smile as
he helped her. "I bet you're hungry! It's already, what, six thirty?" he added
with a glance at the clock.
Kristy looked up at her husband, into his
soft brown eyes. She melted into his arms as he held her tight and kissed her.
"Mom, Dad! I'm home!" The front door
unlocked for the second time and Chloe, their seven-year-old daughter came
barging in.
"Whoa!" Chloe screeched to a halt and
covered her eyes. "Yuck! That is so gross!" Kristy and Michel let go of each
other quickly.
"Chloe," Michel scolded good-naturedly.
"I'm going to freshen up before dinner,"
Kristy said. She gathered up her stuff and went upstairs.
Once in her room, Kristy ripped off her navy
blue business jacket and skirt. As she changed into jeans and a turtleneck, she
stood in front of the mirror and thought about how her life had changed in the
last fifteen years since she graduated from Stoneybrook Middle School.
After high school, Kristy had gotten a
baseball scholarship to a college in California. She had met up with Michel
there. He was a guy she had once met and fallen in love with on a class trip to
Europe in eighth grade, and now the old flame was rekindled.
Four years later Kristy and Michel rented an
apartment in San Diego, and she gave birth to Chloe. Now Kristy was working in
an advertising firm, while Michel stayed home to cook and look after Chloe, and
occasionally coach an unofficial kids' softball team, the Peppy Penguins. They
lived in a small suburban house in Pennsylvania.
As for Kristy's other relatives, well,
Watson Brewer, her stepfather, had died of a second heart attack when she was
only eighteen. This was a great blow to her whole family. Nannie, her maternal
grandmother, became slightly eccentric and now lived in a nursing home.
Her elder brothers, Charlie and Sam, were
married with their own children. Emily Michelle and Andrew were in college.
Karen was an actress, residing in New York to do Broadway plays. As for David
Michael, he was engaged to a colleague, to be married in a few months' time.
And Elizabeth? She stayed home in their huge mansion to take care of Sam's baby
girl, Rachel.
Kristy headed downstairs again for dinner.
Claudia Gray rummaged through her purse.
Nothing. There were only sweet wrappers, crumpled up notes, coins, dollar bills
and an earring. She checked her backpack. Zero. What was she to do?
Claudia rapped on the door with her
knuckles. But not a sound came from inside. Biting her lip, she lifted her
index finger and pressed the doorbell very, very gently. Then she cringed as a
loud wail sounded from inside, and footsteps came in her direction.
The door of the apartment flung open. There
stood Alan Gray, her husband. Only now he didn't look too pleased. In fact, he
looked positively irritated, in rumpled pajamas and unshaven chin.
"Claud," he growled. "I just got Mimi down
to sleep! I'm going to kill you." He stomped back into the house. Claudia
checked her watch. Seven-fifteen on a Saturday morning. No wonder Alan was
grouchy.
"Sorry," Claudia apologized as Alan slid
under the covers again. She lifted Mimi, her four-month-old baby daughter, out
of the crib and rocked her gently.
"Hmmph!" Alan huffed as he covered his ears
with a pillow to block out the crying. "Alaaaaan," Claudia whined. "You knew I
had to stay in the studio to finish up the sculpture. I had a deadline to meet!"
Claudia was an artist with a local museum, where they lived in Chicago. Alan
was a stand-up comedian, but recently no one had hired him.
Alan removed the pillow and grumbled, "Yeah,
well, we were totally out of food, on a Friday night! Can you imagine? Mimi
sleeping, the VCD in its player, and no chow to eat while watching! I had to
starve all through Home Alone 3."
Claudia stifled a giggle. "But couldn't you
have just gone to the store?"
Alan snorted. "At eight-thirty with a
restless infant?"
"Okay, okay! I'm sorry!" Claudia repeated.
She leaned down and kissed his cheek. Alan opened his eyes and smiled, before
tickling her in the ribs.
"Ha! Stop it!" Claudia wriggled out of his
grasp. "I'm going to make breakfast. What do you want?" She put a snoozing Mimi
back in the crib.
"Scrambled eggs, toast and orange juice."
Alan raised his eyebrows. "But haven't you forgotten we're totally out?"
"Oh, right! Then I'll go to the store. I'll
be back in fifteen minutes," Claudia promised, snatching up her purse. "See
you!" The front door slammed, and Mimi burst into tears.
"Aargh!" Alan screeched, and nearly tore out
his hair in frustration. "Claudia, I'm going to kill you!"
