Something Missing_ A Novel - Matthew Dicks [95]
“Thanks,” was all that Martin could manage at first, but after Laura giggled at his response, he added, “I mean, thank you for a terrific evening, too. I mean it. I’m not just repeating.”
“You’re welcome,” Laura said with a smile and kissed him one more time on the same cheek. The two exchanged phone numbers and a promise to speak in a day or two. Martin wasn’t quick enough to open the car door for Laura, but once she was inside, he closed it for her before attempting to walk back to his car with as much ease as he could muster.
It had been one of the finest days of his life.
Sitting in front of his computer later that night, he began to type.
The means by which Matthew Stock had managed to become trapped inside the home of Jane and Tom Casper was a long story, and one worth telling, but for the moment, Reader, suffice it to say that Matthew Stock was hunkered down behind a couch while the homeowner, the aforementioned Tom Casper, was crunching on Doritos and watching television. Little did he know that our hero sat less than three feet away, desperately awaiting an opportunity to escape.
Martin had kept his promise and begun his novel.
Martin’s excitement over his dinner with Laura had begun to wane during the week. Though his enthusiasm had reached an all-time high during the date, the return to his environment and routines had brought a sobering reality to his circumstances. In thirty-six hours, he was to attend a surprise party for one of his longtime clients, and his date was a woman whose house he had entered without her knowledge. Though he was enjoying the new sense of adventure, he was also becoming concerned about where these changes might lead. Chaos led to unpredictability, and Martin’s life was becoming more chaotic than he could remember it ever having been.
Yet at the same time he had managed to help his second client, and within a week of the first. His risky, improbable plan had worked, reinforcing the feeling that he was doing the right thing.
Still, he had violated several rules to do so, and he feared that this would eventually catch up to him.
Despite this growing sense of dread, he couldn’t stop thinking about Laura. She had called him the evening after their date, and after some small talk, they had decided upon a place to meet about an hour before the Ashley party. They were going to stop for a drink at a local pub about a mile from the Water’s Edge and then head over to the party together. Martin had inquired about what he should wear and was given an inadequate “whatever you want will be fine” answer. He had decided upon a collared shirt, cotton slacks, and sports jacket. He was still debating the tie.
Martin had even called Jim for advice, turning to his friend as he had many other times in his life when in need. Unlike Martin’s life, Jim’s had followed a more traditional trajectory complete with loving parents (still alive and married), four years of college, a well-paying job, a marriage, and children. Though he hadn’t suffered through the family difficulties and low-paying jobs that Martin had been forced to endure, Jim had sympathized with his friend to a degree that Martin had found amazing, and in many ways had done more to help him survive than his parents ever had. When Martin was twenty-three and unable to acquire a credit card, it was Jim who ordered a second card, adding Martin as an authorized user and allowing his friend to use it in case of an emergency. On his twenty-first birthday, Martin had been struck by a car in the parking lot of a Boston Market, and Jim had been the first one to arrive at the hospital, a full thirty minutes ahead of his parents. But in Martin’s mind, Jim’s most remarkable quality was his willingness and ability to forge friendships with the most diverse group of people imaginable. His Sunday afternoon picnics (one of Jim’s summertime