Ann awakened the next morning feeling stiff and sore, dragged herself out of bed, slipped on a robe, walked to the kitchen, made herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table to drink it. She felt hungry but wasn't sure she'd be able to keep anything down. She had way too much to drink at the Buckaroo the night before. If she tried eating right now, there was a very good chance she'd spend the morning throwing up.
What made things even worse was that not only did she have a hangover, it was Sunday. She hated Sundays. There was nothing for her to do and no place to go. Sundays always passed so slowly. She sometimes wondered what other people, people who were alone like her, did on Sunday.
There had been a time she loved Sundays, but that was in another lifetime. Now she liked weekdays better. At least during the week she had work to keep her mind occupied, to keep her thoughts off how lonely she was and why she was alone.
Tears rolled down Ann's lovely cheeks and splashed into her coffee. What had she done to deserve such misery? Why had her life, which once was so happy, turned into this?
She finished her coffee, then she took a shower and got dressed. Her outfit was an old pair of acid-washed jeans and a pale blue sweatshirt. She looked lovely, even though she didn't realize it. Force of habit made her fix her hair and apply the understated makeup she usually wore, too.
When she finished dressing, she went out to the living room, laid down on the sofa, and turned on the TV. A religious program came on, but Ann quickly switched to cartoons. She used to go to church, but when she needed it, religion had offered her no comfort.
She dozed off watching cartoons, but was awakened by the ringing phone. She reached for it and realized her hand was shaking. "Hello..." she said tentatively.
"Hi, babe." The voice was male. Ann thought it sounded vaguely familiar, but wasn't sure who it belonged to.
"Who...who is this?" she stammered.
"Jeez, babe, dont' tell me you forgot me already?" the man said, "This is Tom...Tom Jonas, remember? You and I had a helluva time Friday night and Saturday morning."
"Oh. How...how are you, Tom?" Ann said, disappointed. She really didn't want to have to deal with him again today. She could barely remember what he looked like.
"Hey, babe, I'm fine," he said, "Look, the reason I called is I got nothin' to do this afternoon and I got to thinkin' maybe you and I could get together. Whatta ya say?"
"I...I don't know," Ann said hesitantly. She was starting to recall who he was and knew she didn't really want to see him again.
"Come on, babe, what's the matter," he insisted, "You and I had a good time the other night. Jeez, you sure as hell acted like you was enjoyin' it."
"It...it was nice," Ann stammered. She wanted to tell him she didn't want to see him. She knew she should tell him, but...
"Hey, come on, babe, you and I we really had something pretty fuckin' fantastic!" the man said, "Or have you got other plans?"
"I...no, I...I guess not," Ann said. She didn't particularly want to see this guy again, but she didn't want to be alone, either. If he came over, it would make the day pass a little more quickly. Spending time with a stranger, even one she didn't particularly like, was better than being alone.
"Great!" the man said. "I'll be over about two, OK?"
"Ye...yes, that's OK," she said.
"See you then, babe." He was gone.
Ann sat there, holding the phone in her shaking hand, staring at it. Why had she caved in to the man's request? She should have refused him, why couldn't she? She didn't want to see him again, but now she was stuck. She didn't know his number, so she couldn't call him back and tell him not to come.. Feeling confused and defeated, she put the phone down.
She got up, walked to her bedroom, and got a book she'd purchase a while back on a whim. It was one of those books that had to do with improving your self-image. She sat back down on the sofa and began reading. Maybe, if she tried, she could improve herself and her life.
The phone rang again, disturbing Ann's reading. She hadn't been enjoying the book very much, anyhow. The author made it sounded so easy to change your life. She knew that wasn't true. Changing your life involved taking risks, and one thing she knew only too well was that when things didn't work out, you wound up more miserable than you were in the first place.
She picked up the phone and said, "Hello?"
"Ann?" a male voice said. "This is Mark Lewis."
"Oh, hi, Mr. Lewis," Ann said. She wondered why the store manager was calling her at home on her day off.
"How are you this morning, Ann?" he asked.
"I...I'm fine, Mr. Lewis," Ann replied.
"Are you angry that I called?" he asked.
"No, ah, why should I be?" Ann replied.
"What are you doing today, Ann?" he asked.
Ann wasn't sure what he meant by his question. "I...I'm, ah, just sitting here, reading and watching TV," she said.
"I was wondering if you might want some company today," her boss said.
"Ah...Mr. Lewis I...I don't know," Ann stammered, "I...ah...I have...ah...someone's coming over later."
"I see," Mr. Lewis said. "Did you enjoy your date last night? What did you do?"