Post by Morgan Simons on May 9, 2012 21:28:10 GMT -5
There should have been ample peace and quiet to keep Morgan Simons relaxed. His vacation home had been specifically designed to have him close to the city, but far enough away that his anxieties were no bother. His work could reach him only in emergencies, and his ex-wife could not reach him at all. Only Janice had full contact with him, and the young woman seldom used it.
Yet, as the weekend dragged on, he found himself moving about more and more. First he was moving little trinkets around to better suit the furniture. Then he was cooking. Then he was dusting, sweeping, cleaning things, until suddenly he had undertaken a mission to redo the cobblestone walkway outside.
Sitting among little piles of cobblestone, his hands rough with scratches and debris, he asked himself what had been wrong with the walkway in the first place. It had been a little washed out, but that was a natural effect of rain and snow. Or perhaps it was something to do with the CEO's need to always be doing something. That was bull as well, he decided; many a time had he visited the little house and not felt the urge to clean or renovate.
No, the simple fact was that he was trying not to think about Janice. She had shunned him, kept him at two arms' lengths since her incident. It had been more than three months. He could barely understand why she felt he needed to keep away, but she apparently did. He supposed she needed her space, but then why would she allow her mother near her, but not him…?
Perhaps he had been a bad father. Morgan tried to think back through Janice's childhood. He had not been the most stable of parents, for certain. But he had never been unkind to Janice, had never hurt her, had never hurt her mother either. It seemed inaction had a greater set of consequences than actions, even the negative sort.
He stood up, dusted off his hands, and went inside to clean up before heading out. There was a small town within jogging distance, but he would drive this time. The town was charming, with brick buildings along a small road, just like in old movies. The people there were cheerful and nosy, but there was enough in the town, aside from a fast food or coffee joint, that one could live comfortably.
Driving into the town, he found a hardware store and parked next to it. The store was small, but had all manner of tools and materials. Now suitably distracted, Morgan meandered up and down the aisles, looking for anything he might need, and sometimes seeing nothing at all.
Yet, as the weekend dragged on, he found himself moving about more and more. First he was moving little trinkets around to better suit the furniture. Then he was cooking. Then he was dusting, sweeping, cleaning things, until suddenly he had undertaken a mission to redo the cobblestone walkway outside.
Sitting among little piles of cobblestone, his hands rough with scratches and debris, he asked himself what had been wrong with the walkway in the first place. It had been a little washed out, but that was a natural effect of rain and snow. Or perhaps it was something to do with the CEO's need to always be doing something. That was bull as well, he decided; many a time had he visited the little house and not felt the urge to clean or renovate.
No, the simple fact was that he was trying not to think about Janice. She had shunned him, kept him at two arms' lengths since her incident. It had been more than three months. He could barely understand why she felt he needed to keep away, but she apparently did. He supposed she needed her space, but then why would she allow her mother near her, but not him…?
Perhaps he had been a bad father. Morgan tried to think back through Janice's childhood. He had not been the most stable of parents, for certain. But he had never been unkind to Janice, had never hurt her, had never hurt her mother either. It seemed inaction had a greater set of consequences than actions, even the negative sort.
He stood up, dusted off his hands, and went inside to clean up before heading out. There was a small town within jogging distance, but he would drive this time. The town was charming, with brick buildings along a small road, just like in old movies. The people there were cheerful and nosy, but there was enough in the town, aside from a fast food or coffee joint, that one could live comfortably.
Driving into the town, he found a hardware store and parked next to it. The store was small, but had all manner of tools and materials. Now suitably distracted, Morgan meandered up and down the aisles, looking for anything he might need, and sometimes seeing nothing at all.
