Blindsided

 

It was a lovely evening—typical Southern California weather. Busy with an inventory take, Rick couldn’t come over, so we talked for a while on the telephone. “I need to run to the art store,” I told him. “I should have gone earlier but I got caught up in a drawing.”

“Can’t you go tomorrow? It’s getting late.”

“It’s not even 7:00!” I reminded him. “The store is open for another two hours. I’ll be back well before bedtime. And Vince is hours away.”

“You should still be careful, though.”

“I will be. Now get back to work. You need to set a good example for your staff.”

“I don’t see why I should start now,” he answered, a classic Rick response that left me giggling. At the art store the clerk and I rued a discontinued line of much-loved brushes, and then I drove to a nearby grocery store for some laundry detergent and coffee beans. Just before I started the car to head back home I glanced at my watch: 8:45 p.m. Plenty of time for Daisy’s pre-bedtime walk. Now that Vince was in another part of the state, I had no reason to be afraid.

I pulled into the parking lot underneath my apartment building, musing at the little tricks life could play on us. Funny how it was my mother who had unwittingly engineered my present happiness: a cool apartment, a lovely neighborhood, and the boyfriend I never knew I wanted. I parked in my spot and got out of the car, chuckling to myself. I would have to point that out to her during our next phone call.

“What’s so funny?” someone demanded from behind me.

Startled, I turned around.

Vince stood just inches from me.

I started to ask him what he was doing there, or maybe to scream. But he lifted his arm, and the world went black.