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“Mom! Can I sleep over at Samantha’s house?”
Callie raced over to the stands where I was waiting for her in the stands, another girl right behind her. Samantha, presumably.
It was Friday night and Callie’s first cheerleading performance had been at tonight’s football game. It had been fun cheering for Diamond High at the game and watching Callie and her teammates bounce around the field. Her excitement had reminded me of how I had been at that age, so full of pride at being a cheerleader.
I was thrilled that Callie was making friends already. “Are you Samantha?” I asked the girl.
“Oh yeah, sorry Mom, this is Samantha,” Callie rushed to introduce us. “Samantha this is my mom."
The other girl smiled shyly.
“Are your parents here Samantha?” I asked. “I’ll need to meet them and make sure they’re ok with Callie sleeping over.”
“Oh my god, Penny?” I looked up at my name being called with a high-pitched squeal right before someone nearly bowled me over pulling me into a hug.
I relaxed as I recognized the woman. “Jenny? Oh my god!”
Jenny and I had been good friends in high school and, as it turns out, she was Samantha’s mother. I’d forgotten how intertwined things were in small towns. Like me, she was divorced and raising her daughter on her own. We chatted a few minutes then resolved to get together the following week to catch up.
I smiled to myself as I walked home from the game. It was rare for me to have a night to myself. Callie and I got along great, but I had to confess I was looking forward to a night of peace and quiet. I was going to pour myself a glass of wine and have a long bubble bath.
My dreams died quickly when I entered my house and heard a noise in the kitchen.
“Hello?” I called, looking around. “Who’s there?”
The shuffling noises continued. I didn’t see anyone, but someone was definitely in my kitchen.
I grabbed the enormous golf umbrella from the stand near the door and moved slowly toward the island that separated the kitchen from the living room. It had a sharp point at the end. I figured I could stab someone with it if I had to.
“I can hear you, I know you’re here,” I called. “My husband is right behind me. He has a gun.”
I heard a squeak, and my gaze was drawn to the floor. Standing in the middle of my kitchen was the fattest raccoon I had ever seen, and he was staring right at me, his eyes glowing an otherworldly shade of yellow.
“Ahhhh!” I squealed as my heart thudded in fear. “Fuck!”
The raccoon stared at me, nonplussed. He was holding something in his little raccoon paws, a loaf of my bread. Clearly the little rodent was helping himself to my food.
I backed slowly away from him, keeping my eye on my furry intruder and brandishing the golf umbrella in case I had to defend myself. My mind was racing. How did he get in here? Did raccoons attack humans? Did they have rabies?
My back hit the door and I reached blindly until I felt the handle. I moved out onto the front porch, slamming the door behind me, and ran over to the other side of the duplex. I pounded on my neighbor’s door before I remembered they were out of town.
Damn it, what do I do now? Nothing in my high school “Adult Life Skills” class prepared me for something like this.
I flew down the stairs to the driveway, intending to get into the car, then remembered my car key was in the house. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket with shaky hands.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“Um, a giant raccoon is in my house and I....I’m not sure how to get rid of him or who to call. He looks hostile.”
“What’s he doing, ma’am,” the voice asked without any inflection.
What the hell? Did they just ask me what the raccoon is doing?
“I don’t know what he’s doing. Making a sandwich maybe? I didn’t stay to find out. He’s giant with glowing Satanic eyes and I think he was planning to kill me. Maybe he has rabies?”
I knew I sounded a tad bit hysterical. I hated anything to slunk around the night, but raccoons were particularly creepy.
The dispatcher asked for my name and address.
“OK ma’am,” the voice continued calmly. “I’m sending someone over now to help. Do you want me to stay on the line with you until they arrive?”
“No, but thank you.”
I was standing behind my car, still clutching my umbrella, when a police cruiser pulled up. I sighed as I saw Mitch get out. I had managed to avoid him for a whole week after that kiss, but you can’t avoid anyone forever in a small town.
“Penny.” Mitch’s voice was deep and commanding as he strode over to where I was standing. “Are you OK? What happened?”
“They send the sheriff to fight wildlife?” I asked.
He smirked. “I was on my way home when I heard your name come over the scanner. I figured I would come check it out for you. Now tell me what happened.”
I bristled at his tone but answered his question. Mitch’s face got sterner and his posture more rigid as I told him the story.
“You thought someone was in your house, so you just went in?” he asked incredulously. “What the fuck Penny?”
“I had a weapon,” I answered defensively, gesturing with my umbrella.
“Yeah, a golf umbrella is always your best defense against a guy with a gun,” he snapped, his brows lowering into a scowl.
“Well, it’s not a guy with a gun, it’s a psychotic raccoon,” I told him. “And he’s tearing up my kitchen so are you going to help me or what?”
Mitch inhaled deeply, visibly calming himself.
“Stay here,” he ordered gruffly. “I’ll check it out.”
“Yes, sir, Sheriff sir,” I snapped back.
Mitch’s eyes narrowed dangerously but he didn’t say anything else as he went in the house.
I hope he gets rabies from the raccoon, I thought to myself. Judgey jerk face.
After what felt like an hour but was probably ten minutes Mitch came back to the front door and waved.
“It’s all clear Penny,” he called.
“Oh, thank god,” I said, rushing to the porch. Mitch stepped back and I moved towards the kitchen, my eyes anxiously scanning the area.
“Did you shoot him?” I asked hopefully, looking for masked carcass.
“No, he was gone when I got here,” he said. “You must have scared him away with your deadly umbrella.”
I stopped abruptly and Mitch ran into my back. His hands came to my shoulders to steady me as I pitched forward.
“What?” I screeched. “You didn’t find him? Oh my god, he’s probably in here hiding and plotting my death. He’s just waiting for me to let my guard down so he can attack me.”
Mitch sighed deeply in my ear. “I checked the house thoroughly. He’s gone.”
He let go of my shoulders and I suddenly felt cold.
“Looks like he came through that torn screen in your sliding door.” Mitch walked over and pointed to the section of the screen that was pulled back. “No doubt aided by the fact that you left the door open.”
He was wearing a “gotcha” expression that was probably meant to intimidate criminals.
“Oh damn, did I forget to shut that again?” I mused out loud to myself. We always locked the doors carefully when we lived in Portland, but little Diamond Bay felt much safer, and we weren’t as vigilant as we used to be.
I heard the sliding glass door slide shut with a slam, the lock clicking into place.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Penny?” Mitch asked, his voice angry and chastising. “What if it had been an actual criminal instead of a raccoon? You could have been hurt. And what if Callie had been here?”
He waved his arms around to make his point. “You keep this door locked from now on.”
I drew myself up and tightened my grip on the umbrella, seriously considering stabbing him with it. How dare he? How dare he come in and judge me and imply that I was negligent with my child’s safety?
“Thanks for your help, Sheriff,” I said stiffly, my tone as cold as ice. “I’ll see you out.”
I walked to the front door and turned around to see Mitch still standing by the island that separated the kitchen from the main room.
He studied my face. “I’m sorry I swore at you Penny, but you have to be more careful.”
I gestured towards the open door. “Your concern is noted, Sheriff. Goodnight.”
He stalked towards me, pulling the door out of my hand, and slamming it shut with a loud bang.
I jumped back and gasped, cringing in fear. My hands flew protectively over my face before I caught myself, years of conditioning kicking in. My heart was racing in terror before my mind caught up with what was happening.
Mitch immediately stepped back, holding up his hands and somehow making himself seem smaller and less intimidating.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Penny,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I startled you. What’s going on?”
I was angry at myself for my instinctive reaction to Mitch slamming the door, and angry at him for scaring at me, even though I was sure he didn’t mean to. Not every guy is Rick, I reminded myself.
As the fear faded, I lost my temper. I had learned to speak my own truth the last few years. I wasn’t going to live in fear again.
“What’s going on?” I screeched, dimly aware that I was probably alarming every dog in the neighborhood. “What’s going on? Satan’s pet raccoon tried to kill me, then you come in here all bossy and critical and I....I didn’t live through years of....of....shit....to be treated like a naughty child in my own damn house!”
Mitch’s eyes widened in confusion and alarm. “Penny...”
I moved forward and shoved at his chest. He took another step back.
“Don’t you ‘Penny’ me, Mitchell John Erickson. You did your duty and the raccoon is gone now, so you can be gone now too. I’m not taking shit from you or any other man ever again.”
“I didn’t mean....,” he started, the faltered.
I reached around him and pulled the door open again, pointing to the porch. “Get out!” I said firmly.
“Penny...”
“Now!” I yelled.
Mitch met my eyes for a long moment, then nodded. “OK I’ll go,” he said. “I’m really sorry Penny, I wasn’t trying to upset you. Will you be OK?”
I nodded stiffly, not meeting his eye. “I’m fine. Goodbye.”