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“Hello, Zoe!” Samara pulled away from the Rabbi and the other
woman, grinned and put her arm out and hugged Zoe, who raced up and hugged her
back.
“I want you to meet my Daddy. I told him all about you and how
great you sing and here he is!”
Samara looked up, her face open, eyes wide with happiness.
Nathaniel met her eyes and for a moment, everything was fine. Fine, until
recognition turned her brown eyes to cognac and her face to rose. Fine, until her
hand shook and spilled her red wine down the front of his light blue shirt and
burgundy tie.
He jumped back. This was the woman he remembered.
“I’m so sorry,” she gasped as she grabbed a bunch of napkins and
blotted the front of his shirt. The heat of his body permeated the fabric and
warmed her fingers. As she stood this close to him, the scent of his
aftershave—a rich, masculine smell she couldn’t yet identify—enveloped her. The
typical chatter of the congregation after services faded and she kept her gaze
lowered, sure if she looked up, all eyes in the room would be focused on her. Her
friend Rachel, who’d been talking to her moments before Zoe and her dad
approached, had melted into the throngs of people. Even the Rabbi had
disappeared. Was he off talking to someone else, or just staring at her in
disapproval, waiting for her to make more of a spectacle of herself? Her face
heated and her feet itched to escape. Silence surrounded her like a cloak and
she tried not to gasp for air. As the wine soaked through the napkins in her
hands, she reached for more. In her haste, she knocked into a plate of cookies
and sent them tumbling to the floor.
“It’s okay.” His quiet voice was meant to give reassurance. It
should have. But the rich timbre sent chills down her spine and her stomach
flopped. The man from the grocery store. The one who’d watched her make a fool
of herself. Maybe he wouldn’t remember her. Please
God.
“No, it’s not.” She thrust the napkins into his hands and bent to
clean up the cookies. Her hip hit the edge of the table and it rocked. She
dropped her head in shame. Could this possibly get any worse? One glance up and
she had her answer. As she suspected, the whole room stared at her, the silence
thick, like cotton wool. She took a deep breath, and another. Rachel approached
with extra napkins and Samara pleaded with her wordlessly for help. She had to
get away before he realized who she was.
great job of showing Samara's main flaw!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Ana!
DeleteI love this! We know so much about in in just a few paragraphs.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Debra. She was an interesting character to write.
DeleteEnjoyed this thank you for everything
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by to read and comment.
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