"Good evening Samantha, it's Thomas how are you?" Her ex-husband said on the other end of the line.
Great, this is TOTALLY who I wanted to hear from right now Samantha thinks to herself, letting out a small sigh.
"Hi, Thomas. What's happening?" she says in a disinterested tone. "How's the witch doing?"
"If by witch, you mean my lovely wife Lucy, then she is fine" Thomas says with a stern voice.
"You still cheated on me with her, I think calling her a witch is very nice of me" Samantha says a smile coming across her face.
"You didn't want to have any children Sam, what was I supposed to do? We were" Thomas is interrupted by Samantha.
"Look, we've had this conversation a thousand times. What do you want Tom? Why are you calling me?"
"I want you to meet me for lunch tomorrow at The Velveteen Grill. Don't worry, I'll pay for everything." Thomas says.
"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Samantha asks.
"I want to discuss the house. I know you got it, but I have a great offer in the works for it, and I think it would be benefit both of us to talk about it." Thomas says.
The house. It's always the bloody house. Samantha thinks to herself, although she couldn't really blame Thomas.
With no-one else in her life, it was simply just too much house. Half of the rooms were empty or being used as storage; no-one young or old to occupy them. Aside from her bedroom, she spent most of her time downstairs, never bothering to at least set-up an office for her. She did all her work on the couch with her laptop.
"Sam, are you still there?" Thomas asked.
"Yes Thomas. Okay, I'll meet you for lunch. I'm just coming to listen, as far as I'm concerned this house is mine, and I'll hang onto it until the day you pry the deed from my cold dead hands." Samantha says, ferocity coming from behind her words.
Thomas sighs on the other end of the line.
"Look, this is a really good offer. Don't be so quick to say no. Just listen to what I have to say tomorrow. You won't regret it I promise." Thomas says.
"Goodnight Thomas. I'll see you tomorrow. Noon." She says dryly and then quickly hangs up the phone.
That felt great She thinks to herself.
She gets up off the couch, stretching her arms high over her head, cleaning up the crusts of her pickle-peanut butter pizza, and throwing it in the trash.
She stifles a small yawn, feeling once again, that feeling of extreme tiredness washing over her.
God, why am I so tired? It must be my body fighting off whatever I'm coming down with she rationalizes in her head.
Still, it was barely 8:30, she saw looking at the clock on the wall. She still had some things she wanted to do around the house.
Maybe I could do some research into that coin I found. I bet it's worth some money she thinks.
Finding a rare coin that was worth thousands, if not hundreds of thousands at a Flea Market would be amazing. She could be like one of those people on the news.
Still, she stifled another yawn, feeling sleep try to wash over her body again.
Finally, she made up her mind, she would:
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