A Creak in the Night

By Gail Balentine

We went downstairs after spending half an hour packing Jim’s bag for a single overnight; he had changed his mind at least three times on every item he put in the bag. I knew he was stalling, nervous to leave me alone.

“There, you’re all set. Now go. Mike will be upset if you’re not there to greet everybody. You know how he gets.” He put the bag down. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But, well, are you sure you’ll be all right? It’s been a long time since I’ve had to travel for business. Besides, it’s stupid to have to spend a whole weekend 

on one sales pitch. I could just …”

“Jim,” I put my hands on his shoulders, “I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine. The doors all have good locks and we’ve lived here a long time problem-free. Go, and try to look like you want to be there.”

The next thing I knew he grabbed me, bent me backwards, and planted a dizzying kiss in true Hollywood style. When he set me back upright, and while I caught my breath, he wiggled his eyebrows and said, “I could tell Mike I came down with the plague and stay here with you. We could …”

“Down, Romeo.” I laughed. “We aren’t that young anymore. 

Go, please.”

Reluctantly, he picked up his overnight bag and headed for the door. “I’ll call when I get there. Wish the kids were still home. Wish Scout was still here. We need to get another dog …”

At that point I fairly pushed him out the door. “I promise, I’ll be fine. You’ll be home before you know it. I love you. Bye.”

Within ten minutes I was in my favorite chair, glass of wine and sandwich beside me, reading the kind of romance story that Jim loved to tease me about. I was so enthralled that, an hour and a half later, when my cell phone rang, I jumped. Jim was at the hotel, about to go into dinner. By eleven o’clock I had finished my book, two glasses of wine, plugged my phone into the charger, checked all the doors and headed up to bed. I fell asleep the minute my head hit the pillow.

What was that noise? 

With a start I woke out of a sound sleep and sat up straight. I lay back down and waited. Then it happened. The floor creaked in the living room - that spot three feet from the front door that I’d asked Jim to fix many times.

Did Jim come home? Well, I decided, he’ll get a good piece of my mind for scaring me like this.

I got up, went to the top of the stairs and looked over the railing. Someone was standing in the doorway to the living room, dressed all in black. Not Jim. I pulled back, flattened against the wall, and my heart started slamming against my chest like a jackhammer.

Who is that? The grandfather clock chimed twice. “Two o’clock? A burglar?” I headed for the phone until I remembered it was charging downstairs. 

Damn! 

What now? Stop, I ordered myself, and think! Maybe he’ll take the money in my purse and … and the silver on the hutch and … and just go? A cough. He was closer - coming up the stairs. Think! Move! A weapon!  Tommy’s baseball bat? Can I get to the closet? Will he see me? Too late ….

“Mom? What’re you doing up?’ Tommy pushed back his hoodie and grinned. “Surprise!”