He climbed the front steps of the brick building and rang the doorbell, waiting quietly in front of the brightly colored door. Birds chirped around him. The sun shone brightly. A mother strolled down the sidewalk, pushing a stroller.
Luck is on my side today, he thought, careful to keep his roll of duct tape behind his back.
“Candidate Anderson! What a surprise!” Mrs. O’Brien said, making him turn back to face the door.
“Hello, Mrs. O’Brien. How are you?”
She held a phone in her hand. “See you soon, Luke. Gotta go,” she said into the receiver before hanging up. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“You didn’t have to cut your call short on my behalf—”
“No, no. It was just my son. What can I do for you?”
He smiled at her, his most genuine facade. “I was just following up on the petition you signed a few weeks ago. Mind if I come in?”
She cleared the doorway, and, with a swing of her hand, let him into her home. “Please do. I’ll make us coffee.”
“Sounds great.” He watched her close and lock the door.
“Do you mind taking off your shoes, please?” she asked with a large smile before continuing her way into another part of her home.
Her request took him a bit by surprise, but he needed to keep her happy for a few more minutes, so he obeyed. He took off his shoes, nearly exposing his tape and spilling the items he held in his cast in the process. He couldn’t wait to take his prop off and get on with his program.
But everything was good. It had been so easy to be invited into her home. Now he wondered how easily she’d recognize her own sins and the sins of those she kept under her roof.
“What a delightful aroma,” he said.
“That reminds me. I need to take my bird out of the oven, so it doesn’t dry out!”