chapter oneShe took another long drag from her cigarette before flicking off the ashes. Tonight was abnormally chilly, especially in Florida. Lauren pulled her jean jacket closer to her. She took her last puff, put out the butt and continued walking down the dark sidewalk.
It was an almost-silent night. The only thing she could hear was the distant sound of a police squad car and the rustling of a stray newspaper as it fluttered down the sidewalk. Lauren stopped at a corner and looked at the street sign. McPierce. Lauren turned the corner and continued past the surburban, middle-class homes.
While passing them, Lauren peered into the windows of the homes. In one, a quaint family of five sat in a dining room about to eat their Christmas dinner. The father was carving the fine ham, while the mother put heaping piles of mashed potatoes on her children's plates. The two boys were both around the age of fourteen, and their younger sister was no older than six. She was sitting contently in her seat, watching her older brothers bicker.
In another house, Lauren spotted an old married couple, sharing a glass of wine. They must've been together for a while, Lauren thought. They looked so happy, snuggling close.
Lauren began to quicken her pace with a bitter attitude. Love like that was a rare thing. Lauren certainly knew that.
Lauren also knew that she was close to her destination when the houses around her grew larger and more up-scale and posh. Lauren came to the entrance of a gated community. She croaked a hoarse greeting to the guard on duty, his name was Fred, and continued her way through the community.
She finally made her way up a pathway to a large house on the right of the street. Lauren knocked on the door, smiling when she heard the sound of some jazz music playing.
The door opened and she instantly greeted him with a hug.
"Merry Christmas, Lauren," he said, taking a deep breath of her perfume. Brian hadn't seen her in ages. With good reason, of course.
"Merry Christmas to you, too," she replied.