Bill was used to coming home to the smell of fresh roasted turkey coming from the oven with a beautiful blonde in a cherry red apron with yellow gingham fabric lining the ends. One 8-year-old boy with brown hair and green eyes sat at the table in his blue collared shirt anticipating the arrival of someone important to him. A 6-year-old young girl with wavy blonde curls atop her head was in the living room playing on the green shaggy rug with her newest Barbie doll. Her mother was constantly telling her to come to the table for dinner.
Bill came home as the brown wooden grandfather clock in the formal living room was striking 6:00. Staci, the beautiful blonde, knew exactly what time to expect Bill, since he was always home an hour after he claimed he would be home. But today, Staci decided she did not care what time Bill was coming home. She was going to cook and eat with her children at whatever time she wanted. Staci angrily threw the pink, bulky turkey into the oven and aggressively stirred the white fluffy clouds in a bowl until the cheese made the potatoes turn yellow instead of white. Her voice today when telling her 6-year-old, Ella, to come to the table was a loud scream instead of her usual sweet, serene tone.
Beep, beep, beep.The timer on the oven went off as white, cloudy smoke began to fill the room. Then, another series of higher-pitched beep, beep, beeps echoed throughout the kitchen and the whole first floor of the house. Frantically grabbing the beige dish towel, Staci waved the it in the air like people wave small American flags at a fourth of July parade.
As Staci continued flailing the towel all around, she was unable to get the smoke alarm to stop screeching its high notes. As more and more smoke filled the room, the freshly stained cabinets burned like they were part of a bonfire. After the cabinets were engulfed in flames, the table in the nook off of the kitchen caught fire, and the whole room was filled with an orange glow. Staci frantically called for her kids and ran out of the kitchen. Grabbing the landline in the living room, she decidedshe must call that three-digit number that makes some people’s skin crawl. She rubbed her fingers across the gel pads covering the numbers to find the 9 and 1. Ella and her son, John, began to scream at a high pitch with panic covering their faces.
“Hello, what is your emergency?” said the operator. “OUR KITCHEN IS ON FIRE. WE NEED HELP TO BE SENT RIGHT AWAY!” “Please tell me your name and address, ma’am.” “MY NAME IS STACI WILLIAMS, AND I LIVE AT 16978 BALLCREEK DRIVE. PLEASE SEND HELP RIGHT NOW” The operator left her with the last words of, “Please remain calm, and I will dispatch the fire department to your address.”
After the call ended, Staci took Ella and John by the hand, and they ran outside to their front lawn. As Staci waited for the fire department for what felt like 3 hours, she was pacing back and forth with her palms sweating and her heart racing. Finally, the men dressed in red from head to toe came barreling through their front door with their long hose covered in protective yellow felt. Massive amounts of water and foam projected out of the top of the hose across the brown wooden cabinets and red walls that matched Staci’s apron. After the firemen completely extinguished the mess that the turkey had made, one of the firemen went to let Staci know that the fire was completely put out, but the kitchen had extensive damage. Staci, along with Ella and John, returned inside of their house to see the cabinets and table that were completely charred. Staci’s jaw dropped as she stared at her kitchen that looked like it had been attacked. In Staci’s moment of anguish, one of the firemen took off his fire helmet and introduced himself as Sam. Staci was at a loss for words as he stuck his muscular hand out for a handshake and sturdily grabbed Staci’s sweaty hand.
Sam said, “It is nice to meet you, ma’am.” Staci stuttered with a response, “Yo-o-u too.” “I am sorry for all the damage that this fire caused to your house, but I am glad no one got hurt.”
Beep, beep, beep. Staci could not bear another round of beeps occurring in that night. Sam’s pager was going off, notifying them that they had another call they must attend to. The firemen gathered all their red gear and took the big yellow felt snake out of the Williams’ house and continued on their way. With all the uproar of the fire, Staci was unsure of what time it actually was, and when she glanced at the wooden grandfather clock in the living room, she realized it was 7:00pm. Bill was still nowhere to be found, and Staci knew when he came home she would get the same repetitive excuse he always provided: “Sorry, work kept me late.” Staci started to think that with the hours he was staying, he better get a bonus the size of the Powerball. Staci sat on the plush green sofa adorned with buttons in the formal living room and waited for Bill. She was trying to figure out what she was going to say to Bill about the kitchen. Once the clock struck 8:00pm, and there was still no sight of Bill, she decided something must be done.
Staci yelled for her two kids, Ella and John, and told them they were going on a ride around the city. They headed to the garage with blue polka dots lining the crusty drywall which contained Staci’s 1970s white Ford Pinto. The kids piled in the back, and Staci shut her car door with some force and put her pedal to the metal as she crushed the accelerator. She must have been going 40 mph through the neighborhood, and Ella and John double checked to make sure their seatbelts were securely fastened. They remained silent as they sat in the gray leather row in the back of the Pinto.
Staci first drove to the gray brick building that was known as Bill’s office to inspect the parking lot for his blue 1970s Ford Mustang like a young child searching for that perfect blue egg at an Easter egg hunt. There were no signs of Bill’s Mustang at the office. She returned to Parker Blvd to continue in her search. After driving a few blocks down Parker Blvd, she turned onto Olive Avenue, and noticed the newly built Garden Village Apartments. In the middle of the parking lot for the apartments under the large, bright shining street lamp, Staci found her treasure. Bill’s blue Mustang sat flawlessly in the lot with its spotlight. She veered into the Garden Village parking lot and drove by the apartment building covered in yellow sliding and noticed two people entering an apartment on the first floor. It was a man and a woman with brunette hair and a petite figure entering the apartment. The man had a haircut with a brown shade that was familiar. They were holding hands and looking into each other’s eyes as they let out little laughs every now and then. Staci looked in her rearview mirror and made sure her appearance was on point as she was about to get out of the car and march up to the apartment they entered. However, as she looked in the rearview mirror, she was reminded her kids were in the car, and she did not want them to observe this encounter. Staci decided that they must go home, no matter how badly she wanted to go and confront the couple.
Staci’s eyes were bulging out of her head, and her veins in her face were popping out. She couldn’t see straight as she grabbed the black gearshift, and with great difficulty found the D to make the car go forward. She flattened the accelerator again and raced to the finish line of 16978 Ballcreek Drive. Once she arrived, she opened the garage door complete with a glass window at the top and found what she was looking for. She took a few deep breaths, 3 times in and out of her newly done nose. She let the kids out of the back of the car, who did not speak the entire ride and just took in all of the sights. After gaining her composure, Staci grabbed the golden yellow doorknob and turned it, not knowing what sight would be behind the door. She walked into the foyer with Ella and John following.
After crossing the threshold of the foyer, Staci saw a familiar man with a freshly poured whiskey sour in a perfectly etched crystal glass. He was sitting on the green sofa in the formal living room. She told Ella to play with her Barbies in her room, and John was told to drive his black toy train around the wooden track in his room. Now, it was just Staci and Bill alone with the wooden grandfather clock and green sofa.
Staci took three more deep breaths and said, “When did you get home?” “I have been home for thirty minutes, where have you been and WHAT THE HELL happened to the kitchen?” Bill responded. “The kids and I went to the post office real quick to mail a letter.” “Doesn’t the post office close at 5?” “I mean we were by the post office, shopping for new cabinets and a new table for the kitchen.” “Where did you actually go?” Bill asked. “I am not the one who is living a lie right now.” “What are you even talking about Staci, tell me what the hell happened to the kitchen?” “I caught a turkey on fire waiting for your ass to come home from work or wherever you were, and I am sick and tired of always having dinner ready for you even though you are never home on time. I know you claim you are working, but I know you are not at work.” “What are you even talking about?” Staci burst into tears and screamed in a high pitch tone, “I saw you Bill, don’t lie to me.”
She ran for her rusty, stained bedroom door and slammed the door so intensely that it sent echoes throughout the house. The door hit Bill square in the face, and blood began oozing from his nose onto the brand-new light gray carpet they just replaced in the hallway. In major pain, with his hands shaking tremendously, Bill slowly opened the door to find Staci curled up in a ball with tears streaming down her cheeks. Bill approached Staci slowly and wrapped his arms around her. Staci screamed at a volume that could chill blood, “GET OFF OF ME!!!” Bill’s face was confused, and Staci thought he should get an Oscar for his acting ability.
After ten minutes had passed by, Staci was not even able to look at Bill but just huffed, “I SAW YOU WITH HER.” Bill responded, “With who??” “How am I supposed to know what her name is?” “I have no idea what you are talking about Staci, I was at work and then came straight home. I know you have been upset with how many hours I have been working lately, but I am just trying to get a promotion for the good of this family.” “I think you should stop with your lying and get out of here right now. I can’t even stand to be in your presence right now.” “I am going to get out of here until you calm down, and we can have a mature conversation.”
Bill remained calm and gently closed the bedroom door. He swung open the door of his Blue Ford Mustang and sped out of the garage and up the street. Staci sat on the floor gasping for air as she could barely breathe and finally found the strength to pull herself up off of the ground. She got on her feet and headed for her white Pinto. Swinging open the white door, she climbed inside and put the key into the ignition.Cruising at the speed of 40 mph up Ballcreek Drive, Staci was on a serious mission.
After making three left turns, Staci ended up in the parking lot of a building with the red bricks of the firehouse. Staci walked up to the door and knocked until her knuckles hurt. A man with a familiar face slowly opened the door.
“Hello, ma’am. It is nice to see you again. Can I help you with something else?” “Are you busy tomorrow night?” Staci asked. “I have to work until 7, but then I will be free.” “Do you have any dinner plans for tomorrow?” “I do not currently.” “Is there any way you would want to go out to dinner?” “I think that would be fun, but are you seeing anyone?” “No, I am newly single.” “How about I pick you up from your house at 7:30?” Staci figured Bill would be at Garden Village Apartments, so she responded, “Sounds great!”
When Staci returned to her house, she used the landline to call a babysitter for tomorrow night during her date. She told Ella and John that she was going out to dinner with a few of her girlfriends and that she got a nice young woman to watch them and play with them while she was gone. At 7:30 sharp, Sam pulled up to 16978 Ballcreek Drive in a collared shirt and tie and picked up his date. Dressed in a tight purple dress that hugged all of her curves, complete with 5-inch platen leather black pumps, her black clutch, and enough perfume to fill the entire house, she approached Sam’s silver pickup truck. Sam drove them to a nice Italian restaurant, Angelo’s, on Parker Blvd. Sam got out of his car and rushed to open the passenger side door. They walked into a romantic ambiance with candlelight and white Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling down to the floor across the windows. Sam politely requested a table for two, and the two of them were led to a table in the back right corner of the restaurant. Over candlelight in a quaint corner of Angelo’s, the two of them sat and just stared for a few minutes. Staci had not been on a date for awhile, and she did not expect her palms to start sweating. She decided to start the conversation and asked how Sam became interested in becoming a firefighter.
“My father was a fire captain, and ever since I was a little boy, I knew I wanted to follow in his footsteps and become a firefighter,” Sam responded. “I love that, my father was never present in my life growing up, but my mother is the strongest person I have met. She worked three jobs just to support my sister and me.” Sam and Staci seemed to find great connection over talking about their families. Staci, who was a music fanatic, asked Sam if he had been to any good concerts lately. “I went to The Eagles concert a few months ago, and it was legendary. Glenn Fray is even better in person. What kind of music do you like to listen to?” “I am a big fan of ABBA. It has always been a dream of mine to go to one of their concerts. Growing up, I always wanted to be a singer, but once I had kids, I lost focus of that goal.” “Well then, I have to hear a sample of a song.” “I will sing for you once we are back in the car.” “Ok, as long as you promise to.”
After talking for three hours over fettucine and a bottle of wine, Sam and Staci climbed into his silver pickup truck and headed toward the Williams’ house.
As they were in the car, Sam told Staci he was dying to hear her sing. She agreed to sing for him but wanted to see if anything was playing on the radio she could sing with. Sam turned the volume knob to the right to check what was playing. Staci became nervous, as she really wanted to impress Sam. As he came across 93.5, he heard ABBA singing.
“It’s your favorite, you should sing along,” Sam said.
As Staci joined in with ABBA, she sang every note flawlessly. Sam encouraged Staci that she should keep following her goal of becoming a singer because she was extremely talented. As he pulled into the driveway of Williams’ house, Sam told Staci they should go to a karaoke bar for their next date. Staci planted a sweet kiss on Sam’s cheek and headed for the big, wooden front door of her house. Staci tiptoed as she entered the house and hoped that Ella and John were sleeping. As she crossed the threshold into the living room, she thought the babysitter was sitting in there; however, she saw the sight that she did not want to see. Bill was sitting on the green sofa adorned with buttons with another drink of whiskey in the perfectly etched, crystal glass. She jumped three feet in the air when Bill’s face met her eyes. Bill had a serious and grim look on his face and calmly but with slurred speech asked Staci where she had been. She choked on her words and told him she needed a night away from him and for herself. Bill told Staci that he let the babysitter leave when he got home.
“Well, I knew I had to get a babysitter because I knew you weren’t responsible enough to take care of them.” “Wow, somebody is feisty,” Bill replied.
Crack, crack, crack. Bill started to crack his knuckles, his face turned red, and his veins popped out of his neck as he got closer and closer to Staci. A strong stench of cologne radiating off of the tight purple dress filled Bill’s nostrils.
“I know you were just with someone, unless you had a perfume change I wasn’t aware of.” “Why do you even care, I saw you with her,” Staci said in a high pitch tone. “I HAVE NO IDEA WHO YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT.” “You can pack up all your bags and get the hell out of my house!” Bill, who was not a crier, started to get puffy eyes, and with tears streaming down his face, slowly set his whiskey glass on the arm of the sofa and crossed the threshold from the living room to the foyer. He was headed toward the front door. The big wooden slab was opened, and as Bill turned back to close the door behind him, he saw Staci sitting all alone on the green sofa.