the meeting of two people in the autumn of their life thanks to the odd box
Ann had just moved into the new house. Boxes were everywhere. Chaos reined. Would she ever be straightened out? After living in the country for thirty years and with all the things accumulated, she didn’t think so. She had gotten rid of many things she thought she’d never part with, but the boys thought it best she move to town. The big house was a lot to take care of and they thought she spent too much time alone. So what she couldn’t give away she sold and here she was in town and alone! What had changed?
The kids were proud of the house they helped pick out and it was nice but Ann wondered if it would ever feel like home? She already missed the old place. No looking back she told herself. She had been telling herself that for three years, ever since Sam had left her so unexpectedly. It was lonely, especially at night. She tried not to think of it. She had all this unpacking to do; it would keep her busy for a while.
She looked around, it was late, too late to start now. Noticing a box she did not recognize she started to check it out but decided she was tired and it could wait, all she wanted now was a shower and to crawl into bed. Tomorrow would be a better day.
After a restless night in strange surroundings she was up early and on the patio with coffee when two of her granddaughters came in to help. Deciding what was to be done, she asked first, for one of them to see what was in the odd box. Digging it out they discovered it was full of photo albums.”Gran-ma who are these people?” After looking them over, Ann didn’t know them either. Turning to Becky, she said “Look at these and see if you recognize any of them.”
“Where in the world did you get these Gran-ma, these are the Parker kids. I went to school with them. They lived east of town. How did you end up with this box?” No one knew. It was decided a phone call would be made first to the moving company, in case the Parkers were looking for the box, and then the Parker family. The rest of the day was spent trying to make some order in the house. The girls wore out early and each one had other things to do and places to go, so amid hugs and kisses they promised to come back another time.
Ann sat down and propped her feet up. They had made progress. Pictures were hung, beds were made, and dishes were in the cabinets. As she gazed around the room her eyes rested on the strange box. I may as well call now she thought. They are probably frantic over their pictures.
Finding the phone book she looked up the Parker’s number. There were three of them with a 538 prefix. The first was no longer in service. She got up and made tea and came back to dial the second number. On the third ring a man answered.
“Mr. Parker?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Ann Dickson. I have just moved into town and somehow I ended up with a box that belongs to your family. A box of photo albums. I was afraid you might be worried about them so I wanted to call.”
There was silence on the other end of the line.
“Well Miz...what did you say your name is?”
“Dickson.”
“They must belong to my grandchildren. I’ll let them know. How do they contact you? Where are you located?”
“It’s a new address,” she explained,”915 Red Oak. They can call me at 723-1350. I’m most always home.”
Another silence, then,
“I would come myself but I just lost my wife recently and don’t get out much.”
“Oh, I am so sorry Mr. Parker, I do know how you feel, I lost my husband some time ago.”
Another silence, then,
“I know a lot of women do not like to tell this, but how old are you?”
Surprised Ann laughed.” No, that’s okay, I am seventy three.”
“Well, I am older than you but I’m in real good shape.” He laughed, “Maybe we could have dinner together sometime?”
Completely taken back Ann didn’t know how to respond.
“Maybe …sometime…we’ll see.”
“I’ll tell the boys about the pictures.”
“Okay Mr. Parker. Goodbye.”
Ann hung up laughing, the very idea, the old flirt. Just wait till I tell the kids the old guy ‘made a move on me’. With a little giggle she headed for the kitchen thinking of the conversation. She walked with a new bounce in her step. She felt like a silly schoolgirl.
The phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Miz Dickson, this is Tom Parker, I was just thinking, maybe I could come and pick up the box myself, no telling when the boys would get around to it. If it would be okay with you, that is?”
“Of course Mr. Parker.”
“When can I come?”
“Maybe Sunday after church?”
“That would be good and Miz Dickson……..has anyone ever told you what a beautiful sweet voice you have?”
Erotic Interracial/ Reincarnation/ Suspense]
Gale Sinclair is a marriage counselor who has broken the cardinal rule of psychotherapy and fallen in love with his client, Zoelle Sutherland.
