HL Pic Series: 9-Sheila


Sheila grasped her sweater around her shoulders and her stomach grumbled as she stared out past the dock. Randy was not home on time again. The crab legs she made for dinner were already cold. Good thing I snuck a couple while I was cooking.

The wind was picking up and the light was disappearing on this cloudy day. Not too long before, the weatherman had said a storm was only about thirty miles off shore. I wish he’d get home. Probably down at Sami’s having a drink. I hope he calls me for a ride and leaves the boat.

Sheila went in the house to call the pub.


Sheila recognized Jessica, a young lady working over her summer college break.

“Hi, Jessica. Is Randy there, at the bar?”

“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you. The wind is knocking our shutters closed. Hold on just a sec.” Sheila heard the bumping of the phone and then several bangs.

“Ok,” said Jessica, returning. “What can I do for ya?”

“Jessica, this is Sheila Parks. Is Randy at the bar there?”

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Parks. No, he was here earlier, but he left awhile ago.”

“Do you know how long? He was going to be home by six, but hasn’t made it yet.” She stretched her neck to see out the front window, but snapped her fingers as she realized she had already closed the shutters.

“Oh, hmm… Maybe forty-five minutes or an hour ago? I’m not really sure, sorry.” Sheila could almost see the brunette’s head shaking from side to side. She was a nice kid, but not real good with detail.

“Oh, alright. Thanks anyways.” As Sheila hung up the phone, she heard the front storm door slam closed. She walked around the partial wall and saw a disheveled Randy pushing hard against the wooden front door. Glimpsing the bending palms through a crack before the door closed, she ran and threw herself on her husband, just as the door clicked.

“I’m so glad you’re back. I was worried.”

Randy chuckled and leaned back. “You’re not the only one. It was starting to get a little hairy out there, but, hey, I like this reception.” He winked at her and they both laughed. He glanced at the table then and saw crab legs falling from a bowl. He bowed his head sheepishly. “I’m sorry I’m late. I see the crabs didn’t want to stick around.”

Sheila turned to the table and laughed in surprise as she saw the crab legs. They looked like they were crawling out of the bowl.

“I guess the wind knocked over the bowl!” She squeezed him again. “I’m really glad you’re home. Let’s eat.”

Published by Dawn M. Paul

I am an artist and writer at DMPaul.com. Come take a mental rest with me.

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