The American Dream: A Short Story, Page 3

Once again, it was fine when she got home. It wasn't even a sunny day, but it wasn't nighttime, so somehow that meant everything was fine. It didn't even really feel like being alone in the house. As soon as she thought that, she looked behind her. Why wouldn't she feel alone? Was someone else there? She stopped her mind before it asked if the spider was there, because the spider was only a dream. The thoughts about the spider were real, though, and it was enough to make her not want to be there on her own.

  Her father answered on the first ring. “Hey sweetie.”

  She didn't say anything. It was good just to hear his voice.

  “Em? Emily?”

  “Oh, sorry Dad. Hi.”

  “Is everything alright?”

  Emily looked around the room. She realized she was standing in the corner so nothing could be behind her. She wanted to say that no, everything wasn't alright, and she hadn't gotten enough sleep for two days and now there was going to be another, so could he come over, or could she come back home, because living on her own really wasn't working out for her. That wasn't the kind of thing people did, though. People grew up, got jobs, moved out into their own houses, had husbands, children, families, then invited their own parents over at Christmas. “Yeah,” she said. “Everything's fine. I just miss you guys.”

  She could hear him smiling through the phone. It's good to be missed. “How about you come over on Sunday?”

  Sunday. Two days away. “Yeah,” she said. “Sunday would be great.”