Cranky and tired, Danielle showered and then ate breakfast. She did it all with Skinny Puppys Too Dark Park album playing in the background. As she placed her breakfast dishes in the sink, she realized shed have to go grocery shopping today. Most days, this did not bother her. But there was the occasional day where she felt like going out into public was a mistakethat people were watching her, waiting for her to fuck something up and point fingers.
She also feared that any time she went out allowed the letter writer a chance to follow her. One of these days, she figured the writer would stop playing around with her and just kill her.
Maybe today would be that day.
She drove to the grocery store, already knowing full well that this was going to be one of those daysone of those days where she was going to be afraid of everything. One of those days where she would constantly be looking over her shoulder. She drove quickly, even running a red light along the way, wanting to get the trip over.
Ever since Danielle started receiving the disturbing notes under her door, she found it anxiety-inducing to be in a public place for very long. It was far too easy to imagine the person who had been writing those letters to be following her. Even at work, she wondered if the writer was sitting at the bar, having just received a drink from her. When she picked up her Chinese food, was he following her, waiting to finally jump her as she walked back to her car?
Even after she had arrived safely at her destination, hurrying into the grocery store and practically racing a cart with a squeaky wheel down the aisle, the worry was there. The letter writer could be there with her, mirroring her steps on the next aisle over, maybe getting a good look at her across the produce section or across the cereal aisle.
It was a very real fear that flashed through her head the day following the surprising turn of events with Martin. The paranoia sank into her, causing her to lower her head and push up her shoulders. If someone wanted to see her face, theyd need to be very purposeful about it, to the point of stopping her and hunching down.
She hated that she was like this. Shed always faced these kinds of issues, which was why most of her dating relationships rarely lasted more than a month. She knew shed developed a reputation for being a bit of a slut during her first tenure here in Pinecrest, but it hadnt been because she enjoyed sleeping around. It was just that by the time she was comfortable enough with a guy to sleep with him, shed start to assume the worst about him. Shed end the relationship, take some time to recover, and then start again.
Shed gotten a bit better when shed moved back to Pinecrest a few years ago. Shed left Boston and felt like she was retreatingbut that was okay. She was at least retreating to somewhere familiar. The hardest thing to get used to was the stagnant dating scene. It had been okay at first, although shed managed to ruin every single relationship shed started. Thats why the fight with Martin had struck her so hard.
Of course, there was the downside to Pinecrest. Far too many people remembered her and Chloe. They remembered how the poor little Fine girls had ended up living with their grandparents after their mother had died and their father had been taken to prison.
Danielle, is that you?
She turned toward the voice, startled. Shed been so lost in her thoughts that shed managed to fully expose her face while reaching up for a box of Froot Loops. She found herself looking at a face from her pasta woman who looked terribly familiar but whom she couldnt quite place.
Do you not remember me? the woman asked, on the verge of entertained and offended. She was probably forty-five, maybe fifty. And no, Danielle did not remember this woman.
I guess you dont remember me, the woman said. I guess you were only thirteen or fourteen the last time I saw you. Im Tammy Wyler. I was a friend of your moms.
Oh yeah, sure, Danielle said. She did not remember the woman at all but the name did sound familiar. Danielle assumed she was one of the family friends who had visited her grandparents in the year or two following the death of her mother.
I almost didnt recognize you, Tammy said. Your hair isdarker.
Yeah, Danielle said unenthusiastically. She supposed the last time Tammy Wyler had seen her, shed only just started her full rebellion mode. Back then, at thirteen or fourteen years of age, shed usually opted for neon pink hair with black stripes. Now it was raven black, a style she realized was old and used up but seemed to still fit her perfectly.
I always knew you came back around here but wellI dont know. I just never really got around to looking you up after you moved. You went to Boston or something for a while, right?
Right.
Oh, so I hear Chloe is back in town, too. Bought a new house out near Lavender Hills, right?
Yeah, shes back, Danielle said, quickly approaching her tolerance limit for small talk and bullshit.
I heard through the grapevine that she lives just a few houses away from a girl you guys went to high school with. I actually live about two streets over from her.
Poor Chloe, Danielle thought.
Oh, and did she tell you about the block party? Tammy asked, apparently unable to keep her mouth shut for any more than three seconds at a time.
She did, Danielle said. She was hoping Tammy would take her short responses as a cue that she really wasnt the sort to just chat it up in the aisle of the grocery store.
There was a brief silence between the two of them where Tammy did seem to piece this together. She looked around awkwardly and bowed out with as much grace as she could. Well, I hope you can make it. It was good running into you, Danielle.
Yeah, you too, Danielle said.
She wasted no time in hunching her shoulders and casting her head down as she pushed her cart farther down the cereal aisle. Her need to get out of the store and back to her apartment was stronger than evernow not just because of her usual paranoid feelings, but because of the awkward encounter with Tammy Wyler.
She rushed through the rest of her shopping, nearly colliding with an elderly lady in the dairy section. She went through the self-checkout (because why deal with chatty cashiers if you didnt have to) and hurried out to her car. When she was back out in the fresh air, she felt a little better. Of course, maybe the man sending the letters was sitting in one of the cars in the parking lot. Maybe he had been following her in the grocery store, listening to her speak awkwardly to Tammy.
She put her bags in the back seat and started the car. Before she had a chance to back out of her parking spot, her phone rang. She saw Martins name on the display and didnt hesitate to answer. If he was calling to argue, she was game. If he was calling to apologize, shed be open to that, too. Truth be told, she just liked the idea of being on the phone with someone she knew in that moment.
She answered with a simple, Hey.
Hey, Danielle, Martin said. Look, I owe you one hell of an apology for last night. And not for just for getting rough. I shouldnt have been so weird about my phone. Its just that things are sort of going to hell at work. Thats what the texts were. I knew it the moment they started coming in. I didnt want to face it last night. Does that make sense?
It does. But what doesnt make sense is why you didnt just tell me that last night.