Now I don’t advocate Schadenfreude, but going to a N.C. Reunion, visa vie Homecoming with Dr. Dombray, here – well let’s just say observation is one of my hobbies.
Several children evacuated the church doors as we entered. (And no, I had not allowed Dr. Phil Dombray in my hotel room the night before, just wasn’t in the mood!) The service was quaint and filling – and we were introduced as if we were dignitaries.
Now I may have been reading way too much Poe for my own good, bit it appeared the church ladies looked me up and down a little too long with introductions. Friendly, yet approvingly.
“Would you like to look at the grave sites?” Phil inquired. “Come, let’s go.” He pleaded through his homemade fixings scooping from a plate full of auntie’s favorite recipe delights.
“No,” I shied, “you go.”
“But I want you to stand by grandmother’s grave.” Phil insisted, “While its still fresh.”
I none the less, declined.
I fanned getting my high heels muddied.
On the way home it seemed we had come to a crossroads. He spoke about portals on mesa’s in AZ as he neglected to fill the gas tank till we were driving on fumes. I sat quiet. He said that, in an irritating voice, he shouldn’t be speaking to me.