The Intruder

She stopped dead in her tracks once she heard the clicking of a gun. She had an instant flashback of her entire life. She saw her fiancée leaving, her mother sting in her home lonely while Blake’s wild teenage sister was never home. She hated herself for being too busy. She knew that if she made more time for the important things, she would have already reported this creeper for the emails, she’d still be in contact with her family, and her fiancé Drew wouldn’t have left her over a month ago. She slowly turned around and came face to face with the barrel of a revolver. She put her hands up as a sign of surrender.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s just talk about this over dinner.” She said with a plan in mind.

The stranger’s eyes lit up. “Of course Blake, that’s all I wanted. Why don’t we go finish up in the kitchen?” The stranger turned sideways to allow Blake to go ahead of him, but he kept the gun in his hand. Blake turned the corner into the kitchen and quickly picked up a knife sitting on the edge of the counter. When the stranger entered, he looked at her funny. She slowly slid the end of the knife into the back of her pencil skirt and pulled down her blouse to cover the handle.

“Where should we start, it all smells so good” she said nervously. The stranger stared at her for a little longer before slowly answering.

“You can start by going over to oven and taking out the garlic bread.” He said.

She followed his directions and watched as he placed the spaghetti and sauce onto two plates. She took two slices of the hot garlic bread and put them on the plates. She got some of the sauce on her hand and licked it off. She felt that the sauce needed more salt so she reached over to the grinder and twisted it a few times over her plate and the strangers. Then, to decorate, she sprinkled a few basil leaves on top. She didn’t want to admit it to herself—or the stranger—but she was actually enjoying herself. Minus the fact that there was some random man in her home with a gun, she was glad she was cooking. It reminded her of the times she’d sit in the kitchen and pour ingredients into the pots and pans on the stove while her mother was cooking.

She missed her mother and began to feel homesick. It had been almost five years since the last time she visited her mom and sister and it wasn’t under happy circumstances. It was her father’s funeral in Boston and all she remembers about it was running out during the ceremony and driving back home to New York. She knew they needed her a lot but she could never muster up the strength to go back. They’d call on some occasions but it was never enough.

“Blake?” the stranger questioned.

“What?” she said as she popped back into reality.

“The plates, I asked if you would carry them into the dining room.”

“Oh! Yea, sure.” She responded a bit embarrassed.

She noticed that she began to move at a normal pace. She was no longer rushing or hurrying away from the stranger, nor was she slow and hesitant. She carried the utensils and balanced the plates on her arm. She placed her plate at the opposite end of the table and watched as the stranger took his seat across from her.

The stranger dug into his plate of spaghetti before realizing that Blake had mentally strayed away from him again. Instead of calling her several times to get her attention, he put his fork down and looked up at Blake sentimentally.

“You miss them don’t you?” The stranger questioned.

Blake looked up, caught off guard she responded, “What?”

“Family.” He said. “Your fiancée, your mother and father, your little sister, the friends you’ve kept since the ninth grade. They’re all gone and you’re all alone.”