Westford, Vermont
Congratulations, Emily!
Emily’s Bio:
Emily Rinkema is an English teacher living in the small town of Westford, Vermont with her husband and two dogs. While on partial sabbatical this year, she is working on her first novel and enjoying every minute of it. She has had short stories published in Seven Days and The Sun magazine, and writes whenever she can find the time.
Before
Before she got the call about the accident at the mine, Carla had been in the kitchen, making snacks for the boys, who would be home from school soon. The grocery store where she worked had been busy that morning and Carla was exhausted. And she still had to pay the bills, run to the pharmacy to refill Eddy’s asthma medicine, and make dinner. This pregnancy had been tougher than the others on her nerves, and she told herself she wouldn’t yell at the kids tonight.
She was spreading peanut butter on crackers when the phone rang. Instinctively, as she heard Bud’s voice, she brought her hand to her belly. He was talking too fast and there were sirens in the background, but Carla made out phrases. Explosion. Walls collapsed. Water’s rising. And then a pause, just a little too long.
Dave’s down there, Bud said. I need you to tell Sue.
Carla looked out the kitchen window at Sue’s house. There she was, sitting on her porch, feet on the railing, reading. Me Time, she called it, time out from the kids and her house, time when she turned off the phone, read, and drank a glass of wine before everyone came home.
Carla breathed deeply and held it. She remembered when she and Bud were newly married. He’d been working at the mine since high school, and Carla asked him late one night, as they curled into each other, if he ever got scared. If he ever thought about the walls falling in. About being trapped. About not being able to breathe. Bud had laughed and said it was like being in a womb. Warm and safe, he had said, pulling her closer.
Carla continued to hold her breath. She watched Sue on her porch. She was smiling. She turned a page of her book and then reached for her wine glass. White wine. She sipped, slowly, then set the glass back down. She leaned forward and scratched her ankle.
Carla’s lungs started to ache, but she kept holding her breath. For Sue, Carla thought, this is the before. Dave will come home tonight, and just like every other night he’ll take a shower when he gets home, open a beer, check the scores, tell Sue what Bud said or Chas or news of Tom’s divorce and then he’ll sit down at the table across from Molly and Tyler and because Molly just got her braces off he’ll tell her how beautiful she looks how old she looks and he’ll tell Tyler not to roll his eyes at his sister and he’ll ask for a roll with his chicken and Sue will—
Carla’s breath exploded from her like a cry. She turned away from the window. She had so much to do today before Bud came home, before he showered, before he opened a beer, before he checked the scores. She leaned against the wall and breathed in. Insider her, the baby, warm and safe, shifted.
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