For The Love of Daphne by Patrick Councilor
Martin quietly made his way down stairs in the dark, looking over his shoulder at every little squeak the wooden steps made. When he reached the bottom of the steps, he took in a deep breath and let out a whispering sigh. He had made it this far and there was no turning back.
With the aid of his cane, he made his way across the section of wood flooring where the carpet began. It made a whining creek, causing Martin to cringe and shrug his shoulders. He was almost sure that he had woken his wife. Yet there wasn't a sound from upstairs.
More at ease now, he stepped up on the carpet and made his way over to the dining room table where a container rested in the middle of the table. Reaching the table, he let his cane stand beside him as he slowly and carefully reached for the container. Gingerly, he lifted the lid to reveal a double-dutch creamy chocolate cake. "Come to papa baby," he whispered so softly that he almost didn't hear himself. He picked up the knife resting alongside of the container and delicately let it slice into the rich, velvety icing.
"Marty, are you down stairs eating that cake?" Ronee yelled down from her warm spot in bed.
Martin stuttered his actions, almost falling face first into the cake. He turned to the stairs with a disgusted look on his face as he took a hold of his cane again. "No, I'm not eating your fancy cake," he called back up.
"Well good then. It's for tomorrow," she called back.
"Well, then good," he snapped back with attitude. He started to walk away, but peered back at the cake. He stopped short and glared temptation in the face. "Oh, what the hell? I can fill the missing piece with more frosting." Taking the knife back up, he cut deeper into the cake. The damage is already done, he thought. It's officially a cake homicide. Such a small piece would only be attempted dessert murder, anyway. This is my first offence, so the wife should go easy on me. She knows I'm down here, so indirectly, she could be noted as an accomplice. Not to mention aiding and abetting if she lets me go back to bed without investigating downstairs for evidence.
Using his left hand as a catcher of crumbs as he guided the big piece of cake to his mouth, he stuffed it in like a wonder of chocolate richness of dreamy delight.
The phone rang.
Martin nearly jumped right off of the ground, being startled like he was. He darted his eyes to the clock on the wall. Who could be calling at this hour? It was 12:52 in the morning.
Again the phone rang. "Are you going to get that?" Ronee called out.
Martin started to panic. He tried to answer her, but he had a mouth full of cake. He stammered, set the rest of his uneaten piece of cake back in the spot of the cake it came from, and then raced toward the kitchen just as fast as his cane would take him.
The phone rang a third time as Martin threw open the refrigerator door and snatched the half gallon of milk free from it.
"Marty! The phone!"
He fumbled for a cup, but just couldn't get to one fast enough for this emergency. He opened the carton and drank from it as fast as he could. Milk spilled slightly down both sided of his cheeks. He swallowed hard and called out in a weak voice, "I'll get it."
The phone sounded yet again. He made his way for the phone, looking like the Energizer Bunny with a cane. He snatched up the receiver before his wife decided to investigate. Martin shot a glance back at the table where there were crumbs of evidence all over the place. "I wasn't eating the cake," he spoke into the phone. He held his free hand up to his forehead. "I'm sorry… I mean, 'Hello'."
There was sobbing on the other end. It was a woman, but she was weeping so heavily, he couldn't tell who it could be. "Hello, are you there?"
The lady on the other end said something, but again, he couldn't understand her.
"I'm sorry. I can't understand you," he said as he wiped some milk and crumbs from his mouth.
This time, she took the time to make her words heard. "It's Daphne."
"Daphne, what is it? What's wrong?" He hadn't realized that he had raised his voice. He could hear Ronee getting out of bed, but at this point, he didn't mind. He listened, but had to tell her, "Daph, I can't understand you. You're going to have to slow down. Is everything okay? Is David okay? Is Niles okay?"
"Niles was working late."
"Yeah, yeah." The eagerness in his voice coached her for more as Ronee made her way down the stairs in her bath robe.
"He isn't home."
"He's not home yet?" He shot another look at the clock.
"I had fallen asleep on the couch and was woken by one of me visions."
"What about?" he asked curiously.
"I saw Niles at work talking on the phone to another woman."
"What about," his eagerness revealed his value in her visions.
"I couldn't tell."
Martin sighed a sigh of relief. "Come on, Daph. If you have any doubts, all Niles ever dreamt about was you. And I'm sure he's okay. He probably fell asleep at work."
"I called his work several times and he's not answering his cell." She was still sobbing.
Martin swallowed hard. He wasn't sure what to say.
Ronee stepped up to Martin and placed a concerned hand upon his chest.
"Give me two seconds to get dressed," he told Daphne. "I'm going out to his office."
"Martin Crane, you better come get me first. David and I are going with you." Her tone was not the tone of a woman asking, but instructing.
"Alright. I'll see you soon." He hung up the phone and headed for the stairs.
Ronee followed right behind him. "I'm going too. I can watch David at Niles' place. That way if Niles shows up at home, I can fill him in on what's going on."