Fiendish: A Twisted Fairytale by Meka James Page A

walking out.
     
    ***
     
    After getting my lunch out of the microwave, I sat down to finally call Macy back. She had sent me a couple of strange text messages. She wasn’t home when Seth dropped me off, which turned out to be a good thing. I was so confused about our evening, not to mention being embarrassed by his polite rejection. I’d appreciated being able to soak in a nice bubble bath, have one of the frozen, pre-mixed margaritas, and avoid having to explain my strange mood to her. By the time she did come home, I was acting more like myself and happily listened to her talk about her day, which consisted mostly of Mitch.
    “Lee, what the hell did you do last night?” she asked excitedly as soon as she picked up.
    “Um, nothing Macy. We talked, and then I went to bed. Are you feeling okay?” I replied taking a bite of my Lean Cuisine meal.
    “I mean before I got home, you seemed… relaxed .” I rolled my eyes hearing the way she stretched the word, not missing her meaning.
    “Yes I was thanks to too much wine, and a nice, hot bath.”
    “Then explain why our living room looks like a friggin’ rose garden?”
    “I wouldn ’t have the foggiest idea since I’m at work and you’re at home. Do you have a new suitor? I kinda liked Mitch.”
    “They aren ’t mine. I read the card; they’re from tall, dark, and mysterious.”
    I started choking on my food when she said that. More flowers? And from what she described, it sounded like a lot of them. Why would he do that? Especially after turning me down last night? Did he feel bad about rejecting me? I allowed myself a brief daydream of Seth kicking himself for walking away from the very open invitation I’d given him.
    “You okay?”
    “Yeah,” I croaked, snapping back to the present. “What’d the card say?”
    “Thank you for last night,” she sang in reply. “When I get home from work, you are so spilling the beans.”
    “There are no beans to spill, Mace. Nothing’s happened, and I do mean nuth-thing,” I replied, dragging out the word.
    Macy made some sort of non-committal sound before ending the call because she had to leave for work. I spent the rest of the day anxiously watching the clock, wondering if Seth would be waiting for me and wanting to get home to see the roses. When five came, I couldn ’t get out of the office fast enough, but I was met with instant disappointment. Seth wasn’t waiting. I knew he wasn’t responsible for driving me home, and I was perfectly capable of taking the bus; however, I really expected to see him today.
    My mood was lifted when I walked into the house and saw eight vases filled with dozens of roses of all colors sitting on our dining table. The place smelled divine, and I took a long, deep breath drinking in the wonderful floral scents. The amazing fragrances did make me feel like I was in a rose garden. Sitting down at the table, I just stared at them, wishing I knew what to make of all of this.
    Pulling my hair from its ponytail, I got up from the table and headed to my room. I would try to figure out the mysteries of Seth once I got into more comfortable clothes and had some dinner. After slipping into sweats and a t-shirt and reheating some leftover chicken Alfredo, I curled up on the couch, turned on the TV, then ate while staring once again at my flowers. I knew I needed to call him to say thanks, but I was so confused. I felt like he was flirting last night, but then again it could have been the wine and a lot of wishful thinking on my part.
    After I finished my Alfredo, I washed off my plate then dug my phone out of my purse to call Seth. The longer it took for him to pick up, the more nervous I got. When his voicemail picked up, an uncomfortable weight settled in my stomach. I left a message then settled back down to watch TV and tried to think about all the possible reasons he behaved as he did. Unfortunately the same reason kept popping up. He had to be involved with someone, either married or