A Knock at the Door


The doorbell rang and I looked at the clock — 9:30.

“Who the hell’s coming to our front door at his time of night?” I asked myself, “Better no be a salesman or some shit like that.”

Peeking through the peephole and saw a man in uniform standing jus’ to the left of the door frame. Beyond him, parked in the street was a white and green cruiser from the Washoe County Sheriff’s office.

Quickly I though about what I might have done wrong to get in trouble with the law and concluded I’d done nothing. Then my thoughts raced to my son Kyle and whether he was okay or not.

Upon opening the door the deputy smiled and said, “You left the trunk open on your car.”

My racing heart slowed down as I looked out towards the drive way. The trunk of the car was open and I laughed, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” deputy responded as he walked back towards his cruiser.

Earlier in the day, Kay had gone to the store and she must have left it open after bringing in the groceries. I slammed it shut and waved at the deputy as he drove away.

Once back inside, I was met by Kay, who asked, “Did I hear the door-bell?”

“Yup,” I answered, adding, “It was the sheriff’s office.”

“What did they want?” she asked.

“They wanted me to close the trunk of your car,” I answered.

“Oh, my goodness,” she replied, “I forgot all about it.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” I returned.

Then Kay’s eyes grew wide, “And no blogging about this!”

“What? And let everyone know this isn’t the first time you’ve done this?” I countered.

“Yes, exactly,” she shot back.

“Would I do that?” I asked in a mischievous tone.

“Yeah!” she answered.

Kay knows me too well.

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