Byrd's Desire Read Free

followed the sound until she located the cordless handset on a table beside a lamp and picked it up with more than a little trepidation.
    “Hello.”
    “Hey cher, it’s just me,” Angie said. “Our flight’s delayed, thanks to the storms, so I thought I’d call because I forgot to give you my keys.”
    Celia chuckled. “I’m a dork because I never realized I didn’t have any,” she told her cousin.  So what am I supposed to do —pick locks for the next year?”
    Angie giggled too. “No, no, silly.  There’s an extra set of keys on a hook in the laundry room and Chuck has keys, too.  Nina has house keys.  But I’ll send mine back to you with Chuck so he’ll stop by the house tonight.  It’ll be late and if you’re not up, he’ll wait till tomorrow.”
    Crap and double crap .  Celia dismissed her plan to enjoy a long, hot bath in the huge tub.  If she waited until tomorrow, hanging around for the keys would cut into whatever else she might plan.  “I’ll be up,” she told Angie. “I don’t sleep much anyway.”
    “Are you sure?” Concern tempered her cousin’s voice. “Yes,” Celia replied. “Just tell him to bring them to the front door.  I’ll be up reading or watching some TV.”
    “Alright, then. He’s fixing to leave in a few minutes so he’ll be there two, three hours.  Everything okay so far? The storm didn’t scare you?”
    “No.” Not much frightened Celia these days. “I’m settling in, Angie.”
    In the background she caught the sound of airport announcements , although she couldn’t decipher what was said. “Our flight’s boarding now,” her cousin told her. “I gotta go.  Take care and I’ll talk to you or email you soon.  Love you, Tee-doo.”
    Affection seized her midsection and left her speechless for a moment.  “I love you, too,” Celia said after she’d gathered her wits.  “Talk to you soon.” She swallowed the fist-sized knot of tears in her throat and ended the call.  Otherwise, she’d cry and she vowed she wouldn’t.   As Celia blinked away a few stray tears, she noticed the quiet in the large house.  A wall clock ticked with slow, loud sounds and the central air kicked on with a soft “whoosh,” but otherwise it was silent.  Accustomed to the never ending noise of a busy and overfull apartment complex, the absence of audio spooked her.  A wild urge to sing hit Celia and she began to hum.  She walked through the rooms, aware of her footsteps. There was no other sound but the hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen.  The silence expanded until it gained enough substance that Celia swore she could feel its heaviness.  Such weight depressed her, and the angst she’d lived with since her job was cut at the Natchitoches Regional Medical Center surged back, stronger than ever.  Few things evoked fear but losing her job hit hard.  When most of her savings trickled away, she’d given notice on her apartment and if Angie hadn’t called to ask if she’d house-sit, she would’ve been headed back to her mama’s house in Lafayette.
    Focus, girl.  Let the past go.  You’re here now and all that other shit’s done.   Celia inhaled a long, deep breath and held it, then released it slowly.  Somewhere in the vast house a clock chimed out the hour ten times.  She hadn’t realized it’d grown so late or that she was hungry.  Hours had passed since she had eaten a chicken sandwich.  Her tummy rumbled at the thought of food.  Thoughts of her favorite comfort foods—boudin sausage, red beans and rice, and gumbo, increased her appetite.  Even a plate of humble rice and gravy held appeal.  I may start cooking again , Celia pondered, I might even make some of Mama and Granma’s dishes .  She’d lacked time in recent years to do more than simmer a can of soup, sauté a steak with some mushrooms, or throw something in the Crock-pot.  Her microwave had become her meal prep buddy.  When the urge for down-home Cajun food hit, she’d