EMILY

I talked to the security company when I returned home and scheduled them to come out on Monday morning to install security cameras, both in the front of my house and in the back.

Even though I had a privacy wall made up of concrete and stone surrounding the backyard, they suggested having a camera out there, too. I thought they would laugh at my paranoia, but I was assured a lot of their clients were installing security cameras for peace of mind. The woman I spoke with informed me as a single female living alone, caution could be a lifesaver.

Now I was tackling my closets. I had read something about forty bags in forty days on Facebook, clearing out all the clutter, so I was ruthlessly going through my wardrobe and getting rid of everything I hadn’t worn in the last year. The pile was growing. I set aside what I knew I was going to donate somewhere and then I had a pile for Maggie to look through. When I called her a little bit ago, she said she was doing the same thing at her house. We were roughly the same size so she told me she wanted to go through my piles before I gave anything away. I said the same for her stuff. Just trading out what we didn’t use anymore and getting new clothes at the same time.

My head was buried in the back of my closet when I heard a loud crash that seemed to come from the front of the house. I quickly untangled myself from an array of sleeves and ran to the picture window in the dining room facing the street. Not seeing anything, I opened the service door to the garage and looked in there. Nothing.

The garage door was down so I knew no one could be inside there. Heading over to the front door, I opened it and looked through the storm door to see if anything looked amiss. On the front stone patio was a shattered beer bottle, glass particles all over the ground. Carefully, I stepped outside and looked around but no one was there. The neighborhood was quiet. I walked out to the driveway and looked up and down the street. I didn’t see a single person, not even a car driving by. Puzzled, I walked back inside to find a broom and a dustpan to clean up the mess. I had no idea where the bottle could have come from. It wasn’t there earlier. Or maybe it was and I didn’t notice. I couldn’t remember the last time I even had beer in the house or walked out the front door, for that matter.

I went back into cleaning out my closet and tried to push the uneasy thought away that bounced around inside my head.

Several hours later and a much more organized room, I felt pretty jazzed about my accomplishments. I was heading into my home office when the doorbell rang. Looking up at the clock I had on the wall, I realized I had worked the entire afternoon away. Maggie planned on coming over to have dinner and check out my discard pile. I opened the door to let her in. Standing in my doorway, she had a funny look on her face when I greeted her.

“What’s up?” I asked.

She held up an empty beer bottle, Miller Light. This one was not broken.

“When did you start drinking beer?” she asked.

“What the hell? Where did you find that?” I asked, looking around.

“It was just sitting in front of your door.”

I walked outside to look around again. This was crazy. This bottle had not been here when I cleaned up the broken glass earlier.

“Something is going on. Earlier I had to clean up glass from an empty bottle out here. This one wasn’t here because I would have knocked it over coming through the door.”

“Maybe some kids in the neighborhood are bored and playing pranks on you.”

“Maybe.” But I was doubtful of that idea. Most of my neighbors were older, like retired older, or really young people just starting out with babies and toddlers. Not the age of kids that would do pranks like this.

“I’m getting the security cameras put in on Monday. I’m hoping that might be a deterrent.”

Grabbing the bottle from Maggie's hand, I led her inside and threw the bottle into the recycling bin in my garage.

Maggie followed me into my room and squealed at the sight of clothes all over the bed.

“You’re getting rid of all of this?” she asked.

I nodded. “I went through everything. The bags in the corner are going to a shelter or something. It’s all great clothing, but the stuff on the bed is nicer and more in style. Whatever you don’t want, I’ll donate.”

Maggie looked like a kid in a candy store. Pretty soon she was trying clothes on and checking out the view in the mirror hanging on the back of the closet door. I had to admit, everything she tried on looked great on her.

“I’m going to grab the chicken I have marinating in the fridge and set it out to go on the grill,” I told her.

Heading back to the kitchen, I glanced out front. There was still no one around I could see. I took out the chicken breasts and opened a bottle of Cabernet to let it breathe. I’d made a fresh salad earlier so everything was ready to go. I grabbed dishes and silver and brought them outside while I went to light the grill. It was still in the high 80’s, so I turned on the misters I had installed over the patio to keep the temperature a little more comfortable. I loved being outside, even in the heat. I remembered the cold winters of my childhood only too well and I still shivered at the thought of them.

I glanced back into my room to see how Maggie was doing. She had a growing pile of stuff she wanted stacked neatly on the bed. I laughed with her as she turned to me.

“I’m not sure I’ll need to do any shopping for a while. I’m taking almost everything you’re getting rid of!”

“Good, I’d rather see it go to you than just donating it. Most of it is really good quality. Half of it I’m not sure why I bought in the first place.”

“Emotional shopping, huh?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, the pile I have at home is getting pretty big too, so you’ll have to come by tomorrow and check out what you want.”

“I’ve got the chicken ready to go on the grill and the salad is ready whenever you are. Grab the wine and come out back whenever you’re ready.”

I didn’t have an actual table and chair set on my patio. My back patio space was small so I just had a love seat with a few chairs and a coffee table that I picked up at Pottery Barn a few years ago. Lots of bright pillows gave it a homey look.

Maggie curled up in one of the chairs and picked up her glass of wine. Taking a sip, she watched me and I busied myself with the grill.

“I want to hear more about Elliot.”