Some Day Somebody (59 page)

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Authors: Lori Leger

BOOK: Some Day Somebody
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“What the hell are you doing, Jackson?”
 
“The light is out on that side. I’m letting people exit.”
 
“That’s their problem. It won’t kill them to wait.”
 
“It won’t kill us to be kind, Chloe.”
 
“I have things to do,
dammit
!” she fumed.
 
He turned to his wife as he let another vehicle out. “I’m sure they all do, too.”
 
She looked impatiently at her watch. “I couldn’t care less about anyone else.”
 
“I never would have guessed that,” he mumbled.
 
“Did you say something, asshole?”
 
Jackson kept quiet as he let his foot off the brake and inched forward slowly.
 
 
“Well, it’s about damn time,” she huffed.
 
When he noticed the next vehicle waiting to exit the crowded parking lot, he hit the brakes again.
 
“What now?”
 
“That’s Toby and Giselle,” he said. “They have a party to go to after this.”
 
She jerked her head toward him in agitation.
 
“I have things to do, too. Let’s go!” she yelled.
 
Jackson briefly caught the other couple’s gazes as they waved in appreciation.
 
He pulled out after the black SUV and followed them back toward the interstate, all the while enduring a steady diatribe of insults from his dear wife.
 
Jackson stood up suddenly.
 
“An abortion,” he murmured to himself. “She had to drive to Beaumont for an abortion, and I was holding her up.”
 
He walked over to the latest of many studio portraits taken of Chloe and picked up the frame.
 
He studied the features of his dead wife, from her expensive high-end haircut, her two hour make-up application, to her perfectly manicured nails.
 
Jackson pitched the frame across the room then stood there, panting, wishing he could get his hands around her skinny, little neck. He stood there, gasping for deep breaths to keep from screaming as he stared at the house that had never felt like a home...thanks to Chloe.
 
He picked up his keys, and stormed out, returning thirty minutes later, his truck bed loaded down with boxes from the U-Haul place.
 
Jackson worked like a man possessed, stopping just long enough to call the local Salvation Army. He told them he had a houseful of furniture to donate that he would put to the curb tonight.
 
Two men arrived within the hour and began to fill the truck with furniture and boxes containing Chloe’s things.
 
By eight p.m. all traces of Chloe were gone.
 
Not a single item left to show that she’d even set foot in the building, much less lived there for nearly eleven years.
 
Jackson poured himself a highball glass of Crown Royal whiskey, dropped into the one chair he’d kept, a left over from his college days.
 
He drank steadily for another hour, then made his way to the guest room with the plain queen sized bed and dresser.
 
Throwing back the last swallow, he fell onto the bed, and descended into a deep, dreamless, abyss of drunken slumber.
 
 
# # #
 
 
 
 
About the Author
 
 
Lori Leger lives in Kinder, Louisiana with her husband, Michael, and one pet, an outside cat named
Matou
(French for male tom), who showed up on their doorstep almost two years ago.
 
Though they enjoy having the house to themselves, they also enjoy frequent visits from their five children and ten grandchildren.
 
She’s been employed as a computer drafter in the Road Design industry for nearly eighteen years at the time of this publication.
 
She began writing nearly four years ago and hopes to have her entire six book series online by this time next year.
 
She has many more new ideas waiting in the wings to give her something to write for years to come.
 
 
 
Lori adores hearing from her readers either by mail or email.
 
 
P.O. Box 641
 
Kinder, LA 70648
 
 
 
 
 
 

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