Page 73 of Puck Drop
I drop my bag inside the laundry room before I start to look for Elizabeth. As I walk by the kitchen, I decide to check on the food situation in the refrigerator. Just as I thought, nothing’s been touched. I have no idea how she can survive on air only, and it’s not even fresh air at that since she’s never outside.
Next on my list is to look out in the backyard, just in case she’s out by the pool. Now that I think of it, I really hope I won’t find her there. With her not eating, she’d pass out from the heat for sure.
Not going to lie, I do feel a certain level of frustration, but I try to remind myself that it’s been only a handful of days, and she needs time. There is no doubt that she led a sheltered life. The reality is smacking her in the face now, and I imagine that it’s not pleasant.
Annoyed with the flip-flopping sound of my sandals, I throw them off my feet, then pad lightly toward the back room, which is now Elizabeth’s art studio. There is no sound coming from inside, but the door is slightly ajar, so I push it open.
Elizabeth is lying on her back in the middle of the room, with a paintbrush in one hand. A glance toward her easel reveals a blank canvas.
At first, I worry that she’s dead. I have no idea why, but that’s the first thought that pops into my head. But then, she lets out the most adorable sound of snoring. I drop to my knees next to her and touch her arm lightly, careful not to scare her. Her eyes snap open right away.
“Oh my God,” she gasps in surprise. “How are you home already?”
I frown at her in confusion. “I left the house at seven this morning,” I remind her. “And now it’s close to three in the afternoon.”
“What?”
She sits up so abruptly, she almost headbutts me. The paintbrush falls from her fingers, and her eyes go to the canvas on the easel.
“I swear I only lied down for a minute,” she says. “I didn’t have any inspiration. I thought it’d come to me if I closed my eyes and thought of things that make me happy…”
I sit down on the floor and lean my back against one wall, never taking my eyes off her. That seems to make her nervous because she squirms in her spot. Without saying a word, she moves around until she can lean against the wall that’s opposite to where I’m sitting.
“This is not working out like this, Elizabeth.”
I wasn’t planning on saying that, but now that it’s out, I will lay it into her gently. At least I hope so. Then I realize how what I said sounded, especially when I notice that her eyes fill with tears.
“That’s not how I meant it at all,” I assure her. “I’m an idiot.”
“You want me to leave?” she whispers. “When?”
I drop my head in my hands, resting my elbows on my knees. “I meant that you not eating or going outside for fresh air is not working out anymore,” I clarify. “You can’t be sitting here all day like a plastic houseplant, Lizzie. It worries me. I want you to eat for the love of God!”
Her face is a mask of confusion. “I do eat, Lo…”
“What is it that you eat?” I beg her to tell me. “I look in that fridge every day. I don’t see anything missing other than what I eat. I’m worried sick that you’ll just pass out from hunger, and I won’t be home to call an ambulance for you.”
She gets up on her knees, her tears dried up on the porcelain skin of her cheeks.
“I swear to you that I eat every day. In fact, I was worried that you’d run out of things.”
“What?”
She stands up and puts an arm out for me to grab. “I’ll show you.”
We walk to the kitchen where she heads for the fridge. When there, she opens the bottom drawer, which is the freezer, and points at it.
“I ate all the frozen breakfast burritos that were in there,” she says, looking away in embarrassment. “There was also pre-cooked chicken, and soup, which I also ate.”
I stare at the freezer, then at her, unsure of how to respond to this. I am a dumbass and didn’t think of looking in the freezer.
“I eat so much for breakfast and lunch that I’m trying to cut back on dinner,” Elizabeth tells me in a meek tone. “I was thinking of cooking to replace all that, but I’m not the greatest in the kitchen…”
“So you eat every day then?” I sound as amazed as I probably look.
“I do, I swear! I’m so sorry I worried you!”
I continue staring at her, feeling stupid now. But then, I happen to glance to my left and, through the large windows, I see the pool in all its glory.
