*****
I stood in the driveway, completely annoyed. How'd Rudy find out where I lived? Checked the books at the office, of course. But when was he here? What time had he slunk over here and slipped this stupid letter in my mailbox?
Me? This could never happen to me.
Just then, a car drove down the block. The horn honked and I jumped clear out of my skin. God! Not only was I annoyed, I had the creeps big time. I moved back into the house, crumpling up the damn paper in my hands, getting angrier and angrier.
I must have been on the couch for an hour, still. Motionless. Thinkin'. My mind played out every sick possibility -- one night, I'd come home and Rudy would be in the garage, waiting with a gun. Or -- I'd be at the mall, he'd come up next to me in a store with a knife -- in full view -- so he'd get full coverage... my mind raced as I sat still as stone on the couch.
I was a million miles from anywhere when I heard Eric come home.
My heart raced when I heard keys in the door. Was it gonna be Eric or...?
It was Eric. But I didn't tell him. Why? I'm still askin' myself that question.
I-- things-- had just been so screwy lately with he and I that I didn't want to add another issue to the already full plate of our relationship.
Eric was distant, angry about something I'd done. By now, I was tired of guessing. I was tired. I was tired of it all and scared and confused. Should I drop that damn lawsuit?
Should I tell Eric?
Should I tell Mark?
Should I just find Rudy Marinaro and scare the hell out of him -- to make him stop?
I didn't know what to do... so I did nothing.
