Nowhere to Run

He whistled as he stirred the marinara sauce bubbling in the pot on the stove. Her stomach rumbled as the aroma of fresh garlic mingled with tomatoes and basil.

“How’s that eggplant coming? Should I heat the oil yet?” He sounded as hungry as she felt.

“Not yet. I’m almost done slicing them but—hey, who’s that in the driveway?”

They peered out the window. The car was unfamiliar, a dark blue sedan they hadn’t seen before. They watched as a tall, thin man dressed in a suit emerged from the driver’s seat. He paused, straightening his tie, before he retrieved a briefcase and, closing the door with his hip, turned to walk toward the back door.

Blurp—blurp blurp. Blurp!

“The sauce!” A large splatter hit the tiled backsplash as he grabbed a wooden spoon and began to stir.

“Here, stir this. I’ll go see who it is,” he said. The doorbell chimed but she didn’t take the spoon from him.

“No, you stir. I’ll be right back.”

The man smiled as she opened the back door. Then, his smile faltered.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

She watched him swallow, his Adam’s apple moving just behind his tie knot.

“I…I’m Bill Daniels. I’m new to the area and wondered if I might have a minute of your…” He glanced down and annoyance shot through her like lightning. Whatever was he staring at? He regained his momentum but his words held a wobble. “A minute of your time to discuss the policy options my company offers. Would that be…uh, would that work for you?”

She shook her head, waving her hands as she spoke. “No, thanks. We’ve already got all the coverage we need.”

As if chased by all the demons in hell, he turned and hurried away. Over his shoulder he called, “Oh! Okay then. Sorry to have—” He reached his car, opened the door and threw his case inside. “Bothered you. Good day, then.”

They watched him back down the driveway, his tires squealing when they met the paved roadway.

“That was odd.” She returned to the cutting board where the eggplant waited. “He practically ran out of here. I wonder why?”

He chuckled as he crossed the room. Planting a kiss on her temple, he said, “It might have something to do with that huge knife you waved at him. Maybe next time you answer the door you should leave the cutlery behind.”