Gemotions

Brenda stared at the car. A gleaming silver Maserati, it sat in Mr. Henderson’s driveway, the same driveway where he’d been meticulously trimming his petunias just yesterday. Her jaw dropped. He always wore the same faded overalls and drove a battered pickup truck. She felt a sudden, inexplicable heat in her chest. Had she misread everything?

Her hands flew up to her mouth. She remembered the countless times she’d offered to help him with yard work, the casseroles she’d brought over when he’d feigned a cold. He’d accepted them with such humble gratitude. Now this? She needed a cup of tea. Now.

She retreated inside, the image of the luxury vehicle burned into her mind. The implications swirled in her head like a runaway washing machine. How had she not known? She felt… off-kilter, like she’d just been told the earth was flat. The world felt different.