Buzz, Buzz

Grace stood at the mirror, applying a generous amount of magenta lipstick and reeking of Aquanet. Her auburn curls brushed the shoulder seams of her black, sequined cocktail dress. She felt sexy and that was something, since she’d become a mother some months ago, that was a rare occasion. She squirted the last mist of Vera Wang’s Lovestruck onto her wrists and smiled at her reflection.

“You look gorgeous,” her husband, Adam, remarked, his eyes looking her up and down.

“Thank you,” she blushed. “What are you going to do tonight, while I’m gone?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I was thinking Max and I might drink a few beers, take in a skin flick, and then I’ll teach him how to rebuild a carburetor.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed as he laughed.

“Seriously, though,” he said, “I’ll probably just give him his bottle and put him down about 8:30 and then try to catch up on some episodes of Suits until I get too tired to keep my eyes open or you come home; whichever happens first.”

“Sounds thrilling,” she teased. “Try not to hurt yourself.”

He smiled.

The cab ride to O’Malley’s was a quick one and Grace was glad that she had lived through the experience when she paid the driver his fee. There was nothing like a cab ride in the city to make a person quite so aware of their own mortality.

As soon as she walked through the door, she was assaulted by delighted squeals.

“Oh. My. GOD!! Gracie!!” Her friend, Hannah, was the first to run up and wrap her arms around her. Cassie, a larger girl, was still scooting out of the booth, wiggling her rear end across the dark green cushion.

“Hannah, it’s so good to see you,” Grace chirped. She placed a big, magenta kiss on each orange-tinted, faux tan cheek.

Cassie, out of breath, wrapped her thick arms around both girls in an enthusiastic group hug. All three began to bounce in unison.

“Girls’ night,” Cassie called out. “This is going to be so much fun!”

The relief from the mundane began immediately as the friends downed margarita after margarita and shared gossip about their mutual friends, spouses, co-workers, basically anyone and everyone, and laughed until they were gasping for air and clutching their aching ribs. Grace hadn’t had as much fun or felt as much like her old self since before Max was born. The experience was liberating.

Buzz, buzz.

Grace felt the familiar buzzing of her cell phone, vibrating in her purse. She was getting a text message. As Cassie went into yet another hilarious story about her coworker, Jeanine, and the time she had switched her name plate out with a sign that read, “The Devil,” Grace retrieved her phone and glanced into her lap.

“Who is it?” Hannah slurred her question. She was nosy, but she was even nosier when she was drunk.

Grace glanced up.

“Oh, it’s just Adam. He says he hopes we’re having a good time. I’m just gonna text him back real quick.”

Hannah and Cassie exchanged annoyed glances.

Cassie waited until she had the full attention of the table to continue her story.

“So, anyway, she had no idea, like, the whole day. Then, you guys won’t believe this, the Vice President of Enersave walks in and he stops at her cubicle and he’s like ‘The Devil?’ all pissed off. Oh my God, I almost died!”

The group erupted into laughter when Grace felt it again.

Buzz, buzz.

She glanced into her lap again.

“I’m having a good time, too. I wish you were here.”

She smiled and began composing a reply.

“Oh my God, I love this song!” Cassie grabbed Hannah’s hand. “Let’s dance!”

Hannah threw back the remainder of her margarita. “You coming, Grace?”

“I’ll be out there in a minute,” she replied, never looking up.

Cassie and Hannah shook their heads and wiggled out of the booth and out on to the dance floor. Grace had missed the pair’s comedic display, staggering around the dance floor in awkward circles. She supposed she was getting older and more responsible when hearing back from her man was more important than getting her groove on with her friends, even on girls’ night.

Buzz, buzz.

“Just sitting here in the dark, waiting for you,” the text read. Grace furrowed her brow.

“Why in the dark,” she texted. “Did the power go out? I thought you were watching Suits. How is Max?”

Something wasn’t right.

Buzz, buzz.

“No. The power is on. I don’t want to wake anybody up. Max is sleeping.” The message arrived with a picture of the baby, asleep in his crib, clutching his blue fleece blanket.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” she replied. “But, I’m sure the light won’t bother him as long as you don’t turn it on in the nursery.”

She laughed to herself. Sometimes, Adam could be so silly and confused as a father.

Buzz, buzz.

She gasped when she opened the message. It was a picture of her husband, asleep in their bed.

“Well, you see,” the text read, “I don’t want to wake Adam up either.”

She trembled as she typed the next message.

“Who is this?”

Painful seconds went by.

Buzz, buzz.

Another picture message. A large, glove encased hand holding a butcher knife. Her bed was in the background.

“No!! Adam!!” The terror in her voice rose above the thumping bass of the music and several bar patrons turned and stared at her with concern. She grabbed her purse and hit her knee on the edge of the table as she got out of the booth, her friends calling after her. As she stood on the corner, attempting to hail a cab, she felt it again.

Buzz, buzz.

“Come home, Grace.”



Word Count: 968