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out, all right?”
    “Perfect.”
    Myra calls out a goodbye as she watches him from her doorway as he makes his way back to his house.
    * * *
    Myra calls Susie as she lies on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
    “Took you long enough to call me back. I was starting to get all pissy,” Susie says.
    Myra laughs. “My neighbor Jim stopped by and offered to help me unpack so…”
    “Ooooh, Jim , what’s he look like?”
    “He’s in his seventies.” Myra shakes her head and rolls her eyes.
    “Is he hot? Sean Connery’s hot. I would bang that man any day, any time, and he’s gotta be at least a hundred.”
    “For God’s sake, Jim is like my Grampie. That’s disgusting.”
    “All right,” Susie agrees, chuckling. “I’ll give you that one. Grampie-like is gross.”
    “Very.”
    “So,” Susie says, “I wasn’t going to bring this up, but I need to vent so I really and truly, sincerely apologize in advance, okay?”
    “What?” Myra asks.
    “Trent won’t leave me the hell alone. He’s driving me insane. He’s at my desk every five minutes asking about you, and he won’t quit calling and emailing me. I can’t set my email up like you did so it goes straight to trash because I have to check his damn emails because of work. If he doesn’t stop, I’m going to report his ass to HR.”
    Myra sighs. “I’m sorry.”
    “Honey, it’s not your fault. He just pisses me off. The man still doesn’t know that you moved. I’m so glad he never knew the address of your apartment after you guys broke up because I swear that shithead would’ve been standing on your doorstep stalking you. And just so you know, things aren’t going so well for him and his little skankmeister right now either.” Myra’s ears perk up at this bit of gossip.
    “I guess she went and blabbed to Miranda about the preggo thing, and you know Miranda’s loose fish lips; the whole office knew in about ten minutes. And Trent was fit to be tied. They had a knock-down, drag-out shout fest right in the office. Of course I missed the whole thing because my sorry ass was downstairs buying a snack. Can you believe my luck? Damn it,” she says as she pauses. “I wonder if the company has it on video somewhere because I would give my right boob to see that.”
    “I don’t care what happens with them anymore,” Myra says, but secretly, she’s thrilled at the news. She’d never tell anyone, but she wouldn’t mind seeing Trent suffer a little. He needs to feel just a small amount of the pain that she’s had to endure because of him.
    “Well, I gotta go, hon. I need to get the boys ready for bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love ya, girlie,” Susie says.
    “Love you, too.”
    * * *
    Myra climbs the squeaky staircase clutching her pillow. She glances at the closed door of the master bedroom at the end of the hallway before her hand reaches out and opens the door to the guest bedroom. This was the room she stayed in whenever she spent the night at her grandparent’s home as a child. It feels comfortable and secure to her. This will be her bedroom because the master bedroom just doesn’t feel right. That was a special place just for her grandparents, and she doesn’t want to mar their memory.
    After switching the light off and pulling down the patchwork quilt, she snuggles under the covers. But within minutes, she tosses and turns, staring into the darkness, unable to get used to her new surroundings. The darkness of the old house makes her feel even more alone and isolated. When Myra thinks about Susie and how much she misses her, she wonders if she made the right decision moving out here like she did.
    Abruptly, she sits up, frowning. Twisting her head slightly, she holds her breath. She heard something. A noise. Almost like a tapping on the wall. As she continues listening, her heart beats rapidly and her mouth goes dry. Slowly, she crawls out of bed. Opening the bedroom door, she freezes her ears straining. Her eyes widen, and her