Eileen Slovak

Chapter Six: A Storm of Loss and Regret  

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and locales are products of the author’s imagination. They are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is coincidental. Copyright © 2024 by Eileen Slovak.

Scarlet

After lunch, it’s obvious the staff is spending more and more time peering out the window. They’re checking the weather on their computers rather than actually working. With Frank gone, I make the executive decision to close up shop. Shooting off a gun in the middle of the office could not have caused a hastier retreat. Employees scatter, shutting down their computers, wrapping up their meetings or phone calls, bundling up, and scrambling for the door. Within a half hour, nearly all the workspaces are vacant.

      I know I should leave too, but with everyone gone I’m enjoying the quiet. So much so that I startle when my cell phone rings.

      “Hi, Scarlet. How are you? I’m sorry to bother you, I’m sure you’re still at work.”

      “Kevin? Wow, it’s been ages. It’s no bother at all. How are you?” Kevin Murphy is my ex-boyfriend, Sean’s best friend. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since our break-up, months ago.

      He blows out a breath loudly. There’s a long pause.

      “I’m okay, Scarlet, but I have some really bad news. Has anyone told you about Sean?”

      “No. What do you mean? What’s going on?”

      “Scarlet, he was in a bad car accident last weekend.”

      “Oh, my gosh! What happened? Is he alright?”

      “He was speeding…he lost control.”

      “Oh my gosh! That doesn’t sound like Sean, my nickname for him is Gramps, remember?”

      “I know, right? When he got the beamer…I told him it was wasted on him,” Kevin’s voice breaks on the other end of the phone.

      “Kevin, is Sean hurt?”

      “Scarlet, he was killed in the accident.”

      I feel all of the air leave my lungs at once like I’ve been sucker-punched. I swallow, attempting to form words but my mouth is desert dry. In my mind, I see Sean as he looked the last time I saw him a few months ago. I remember his dark hair and his hazel eyes under long lashes. I always teased him about them, calling them spider lashes. After he moved to Arkansas for work six months ago, we continued to see each other sporadically. I suspected he was seeing other people, but when we were together, we still had chemistry.

      “Kevin, I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do….” I say, tears welling in my eyes.

      “He was my best friend. We’ve known each other since middle school. I can’t believe I’ll never see him again.”

      “Neither can I. I’m so sorry Kevin. You know I loved him.”

      “I know. I wanted to tell you before you saw the obituary.”

      “Thank you.”

      I took for granted that I would see Sean again. I kept a small hope alive that he would eventually move back to Providence. The distance proved too hard for us both. Nausea forms in the pit of my stomach. Kevin fills me in on the arrangements. After the call, I sit in complete disbelief, staring out of the window, not knowing for how long. The snowstorm is howling outside, strong winds whip wet snow against the windows. The nor’easter is a match for my current emotional state.

      Emilie pops her head into my office. I assumed she had left with everyone else.

     “Hey, Scarlet. Frank called. He was lucky to get out before the airport cancelled all the flights. He wanted to make sure everyone went home for safety reasons. Why are you still here?”

      I knew she was talking to me but I didn’t hear a word.

      “Scarlet, are you alright?”

      “Hmm? Emilie, I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?”

      “With the weather, you should head home before it gets any worse.”

      “Of course. You too. I’ll shut everything down and lock up, don’t you worry about it.”  

      For safety reasons. Sean was always such a cautious driver. This makes no sense.

      “Are you sure?”

      “Yes, absolutely. I’ve got this. Go home, be safe.”

      “I’m waiting for my husband to pick me up. Scarlet, are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

      “Yes, I’m totally fine. I have a lot on my mind.”

      On the contrary, all of my nerves feel exposed. Like they’re now on the outside of my body, vulnerable. I’m so thankful for the swift evacuation of the staff, allowing me to avoid their probing, questioning eyes. In a disconnected manner, I straighten my desk. I gather my computer and my purse. Then I shrug into my coat and boots before closing and locking my office door. I continue through the abandoned office spaces. I switch off lights and office equipment as I go. Then I lock the entrance door behind me.

      When I reach the lobby, Martin’s gone. The evening guard, Sal, never looks up from the game he’s playing on his phone to pay me any mind. Once outside, I find myself standing alone on the sidewalk in the blinding snowstorm. A cold wave of grief sweeps over me as I lean into the squall. Walking warily, the soles of my boots slide across the sidewalk. Snow bombards me from every angle, furiously covering my footprints in my wake. Dark buildings loom ominously, concrete and steel ivory capped mountains. Snowflakes dart into my eyes, blinding me. I press forward while the snow bites exposed patches of bare flesh on my wrists, my neck. Hot tears freeze onto my cheeks.

      Executives jog past me, not dressed properly for the storm. They pull suit jackets over their head, leaving their shirttails hanging out. Their expensive shoes ruined. They seem no more alive than the lampposts. I move methodically. The snow envelops me and frozen flakes cling to my auburn hair. I make my way safely inside the dark quiet of the parking garage. It’s a welcome cave in the colorless world. Sliding into the driver’s seat of my SUV, I sit motionless with the engine running, taking a moment to defrost. I am incapable of driving.

      In my snowy reflection in the rearview mirror, I see my mother, Mary. I blink the teasing vision away. If you were still alive Mom, would you approve of my lifestyle? Married to my job instead of a nice guy like Sean? If I asked, he might have stayed. I could have saved him.