I found the note sitting on the kitchen table when I got back from work, and my heart dropped like a stone when I read its contents.
“Hey Honey!”
Amanda’s signature way of starting one of our domestic memos. There were times when I wondered if the woman was trained in psychological conditioning: her bubbly countenance could talk me into just about anything she needed doing. Always the same overly enthusiastic greeting, quickly followed up by a request to clean out the garage or do the dishes or some shit.
“Surprise! Guess who dropped by after you left for work with a packed bag and a long weekend off from college?”
I found myself mouthing the name before I’d even read it.
“Haley!”
Fuck.
“She’s in town till Monday night, and I want her to feel right at home. So be nice! I won’t be home until later, but she’s just going to be lounging around. The girl deserves a break from her semester. Thanks honey! PS: Could you clean out the garage when you get a chance?