"Who is it?" Sarah yells from the kitchen. Ten seconds she had now passed since the last knock. Sarah heard no answer. She expected a deep voice to utter the word Hubby. That meant Tom had arrived home from work. Instead, there was an eerie silence lingering throughout the home. Sarah felt uncomfortable and honestly creeped out. She picked up a kitchen knife that rested on a wooden cutting board. When there was a knock at the door, Sarah was preparing supper for the family—a beef stew whose recipe had been passed down for generations. According to the recipe, diced tomatoes were a required ingredient. Therefore, when Sarah slowly walked to the front door, she could hear the faint sound of slabbed tomato plopping onto the floor.
Strengthening her grip on the knife, She cautiously looked through the clear peephole. There was no one there. She opened the door. Colorful slits of light caught her eye. The sun was setting in the distance, hiding behind the tall pine trees that bordered the neighborhood. She loved seeing the sunset. She proceeded to take a step as she wanted a better view when she felt a thump near her foot. She looked down and found a brown package resting on her doormat. It was no bigger than a laptop.
A puzzled expression began to form on her face. Did Tom order something on Amazon? Sarah knew she had not since she had finished holiday shopping for Halloween weeks ago. She picked up the mysterious package and shook it vigorously. Nothing inside moved. Still skeptical, She flipped over the package, and what she saw turned her blood cold. The name of her daughter was written in blue ink. She frantically surveyed her surroundings, fearfully attempting to locate someone or something that would leave such an ominous package on her doorstep. A package for her newborn. This proved futile as only she saw the leaves of bushes and trees dancing gracefully in response to a gusting wind.
Sarah was then startled by Diana's muffled crying on the baby monitor, vibrating the back pocket of her jeans. This activated her motherly instincts like a light switch. The baby monitor was connected via Bluetooth, allowing Sarah to maintain a connection despite being in separate rooms. Diana must have awoken from her nap. Her crib was in the main bedroom, next to a King-sized bed where Sarah and her husband lay their heads every night.
Sarah quickly shut the door and locked it with a satisfying click. She carried the package under her armpit as Sarah paced to the kitchen, depositing the knife onto the cutting board and placing the package onto the granite countertop. She used a giant spoon to stir the beef stew that patiently rested on the stove. The salivating smell of beef and vegetables penetrated her nostrils. The vibration in her jeans gradually grew as Diana's cries for her mommy echoed off the walls. She briskly entered the bedroom and pulled Diana from the crib. She attempted to soothe her by rocking steadily back and forth and singing a serene lullaby that her mother had sung when she was little.
Eventually, her softened voice was the only thing Sarah heard as Diana stopped crying. The room was no longer blessed with Sarah's angelic voice as she halted the lullaby. Instead, she continued to cradle and soothe the precious jewel in her arms. Diana's piercing blue eyes stared innocently into Sarah's light hazel eyes. Tom's eyes were the same color, but Sarah's ginger hair sprouted like ferns from Diana's scalp. She had acquired the best of both worlds. How unfair, Sarah sarcastically thought. But it was not jealousy Sarah felt. She sensed an overwhelming feeling of gratitude and pure adoration. It washed over in waves like the morning tide on a shore. She savored this moment of the warm embrace between her and her child. A special bond as old as time itself that was indestructible as it was vulnerable.
The only person capable of ceasing this powerful embrace was her first love, Tom, who announced his arrival, shouting boldly, "Honey, I am home." She could hear his car keys flop on a nearby desk as he sighed heavily, tired from work. "Where you at? Something is bubbling in the kitchen."
Sarah had forgotten about her stew. "I am in the bedroom with Diana. She was crying earlier, so I had to console her. Can you turn the stove off for me, babe? I'll be there in a minute." Sarah turned to inspect Diana, who was now sleeping peacefully in her arms. After carefully placing Diana back into the crib, she headed toward the kitchen. The stew weakly simmered in the steel pot as Sarah lifted the glass lid and stirred the broth. Sarah aimed to have an even dispersal of veggies and beef when poured on a plate.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
"Hey babe, what is this?" Tom inquired firmly. Sarah closed the top of the pot and turned her attention to Tom, who was seated at the kitchen island, holding the cryptic package in his hands, studying it intently.
"Some stranger left it on our doorstep shortly before you got here. I have no idea who sent but did you flip it over?" Sarah's heartbeat picked up speed like a plane on the runway as Tom flipped over the package. At first, Tom's eyes widened, but then his eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement.
"Why does it have our daughter's name on it?" Tom asked, but now there was concern in his tone. Tom showed the package to Sarah, his hairy claws gripping each side with so much force that the package started to crumple like a soda can. Once again, she saw Diana's name on the package, triggering the dread she felt when she first saw it at the front door.
"I do not fucking know, babe." The tension in the room grew thicker than the stew that marinated on the stove as both Tom and Sarah exchanged worried glances. Sarah broke the silence, adding weakly, "At first, I thought it might have been sent by a distant relative or someone close, but I am pretty sure we received everyone's gifts for Diana ages ago."
Sarah briefly reminisces about birthing Diana in the middle of Spring. Sarah remembered holding Diana in her arms, tears swelling in both bloodshot eyes. She looked so tiny and fragile. Sarah feared her plump tears would damage Diana's striking blue eyes as they dripped from her face like water dripping from a faucet. Sarah quickly snapped to reality and said, "I did not want to open it until you came home. I thought that was the smartest thing to do at the time." Tom nodded in approval but still kept a stern expression.
"What do you think is inside the package?" Tom asked Sarah, but Sarah just nervously shrugged, not leaving the package out of her eyesight.
"I shook it a few times but did not hear anything."
"And you did not see anybody leave this on our doorstep?" The crinkling of the cardboard enigma insinuated Tom's growing frustration.
"Nope." Sarah shrugged and then asked the inevitable question, lingering persistently in the kitchen like an odor, "Are we going to open it now?" Sarah's stomach was a cage full of butterflies due to the suffocating suspense.
Tom dropped the package on the kitchen island as a sign of defeat. Tom caressed his eyes and cleared his throat. "I am off tomorrow so we can open it first thing in the morning."
"Are you sure?" Sarah asked, eyebrows raised.
"Yeah, I had a rough day at work, babe. You know I have been working overtime to keep things afloat for us." Sarah nodded in support, staring at the bags under Tom's eyes. There was dirt underneath his fingernails and a fresh abrasion across his cheekbone. A stain of dry blood exuded from the cut. "I am going to go take a shower. I smell like shit."
"Alright. I'll have dinner ready in a minute." With that, Tom stood up, cracked his knuckles with a pop, and stumbled toward the bedroom.
Sarah put on her finest acting skills by transforming into a clueless pilot, navigating each spoonful of baby food into Diana's cavernous mouth. This plane of nutritious sludge would then be crushed maliciously under Diana's lone two teeth. She gulps and giggles before clapping playfully in her booster chair. The booster chair overtowers Sarah where she sits, giving the impression of Sarah being a meek servant, while Diana is the arrogant queen born without the sin of gluttony.
Tom relished being the sole person to witness such a gravitating display of affection on a nightly basis; It was a privilege, not a right. He learned this after attending the funeral of his best friend's wife, Patricia. The number of tears sheds that dreary day could overload any turbine until it implodes. Tom's emotions were far too prominent to handle. When Tom viewed the woman who rested in a jet-black casket, he imploded. All the conflicting emotions that swirled throughout his body were finally unleashed. He was a shell of himself. Sarah was able to drag him outside, his head buried in her bosom, muffling the painful sobbing he cried. The last memory of Patricia served as a reminder to cherish the time he has with his family because tomorrow is never promised.