Happy Independence

"Congratulations to you, Serena!" She said to herself, gulping down a glass of wine. Her first book was finally out in print after many years. She had lost a lot in those years. First was her dog, Beattle, who died from food poisoning. Two years later in a car accident, she lost the love of her life, Sid. Her son, Ravi followed soon after surgery. He was suffering from leukemia. Back home in India, her mother died from a stroke. Her father had died when she was younger. Her feeling of depression was reaching it's climax with nothing to keep her mind busy. Her best friend and editor who was with her through each loss had moved recently because of her husband's work. Her new job kept her so occupied that she nearly handed over her book to someone else. At 53 years, she had finally achieved her dreams of becoming an author and she wished she had just dreamt of being happy. Sitting on Sid's favourite sofa, alone and sad, she slumped to the gray carpet and cried herself to sleep.

The door bell woke her the next morning. Her head was on fire. Without opening her eyes, she wished the intruder away and after a few seconds, the knocking stopped. She wondered how she'd get through another day with nothing to do and no one to talk to. She desperately didn't want to wake up. The knocking started again, this time more aggressively. Whoever it was was threatening to call 911. Gracias, she thought, it'll add some color to my day if anything. However, she managed to pick herself up and not caring how she looked, opened the door. The sunlight blinded her and for a moment, she wished she was a vampire. 

"Hello, Mrs. Mehra, are you alright?" Her neighbor, Mr. Dave asked relived. 

It was strange though, she rarely had 'neighbourly' visits since Ravi died and here this guy was carrying a little cake with blue, white and red stripes. She wondered whose birthday it was and why he had to carry the cake around.

"Yes, I am." She said trying to remember his name, "Is there a problem?"

"No, just thought to celebrate Independence day with my neighbor. Happy Independence, Mrs Mehra." He said with a smile that she couldn't help smiling back at. She had forgotten today was Independence. She let him in and his name came back to mind.

"Mr. Dave, is it?"

"Oh, just Dave will do."

"Okay, just Dave. So, just Dave, I don't suppose you have any family around since you're thinking of celebrating Independence with your neighbor."

He laughed a little and said, "You got that right. And could you, you know," he said gesturing to her face. Her face immediately felt hot and she wished she had bothered to clean up. 

"Just Dave..."

"Dave." He corrected, looking amused. 

"Dave, you're in my house this early. What did you expect to see? It's only like..." She said looking around for her watch or a clock or phone.

"11:45 am. I'm sorry if I expected too much. It's alright."

Frozen with fear, she exclaimed, "12 what?" 

Scrambling away in search of her phone, she found it on Sid's sofa.

Heck! Esme, her publisher had called her 12 times! 

It was Independence day, and they both needed a break. "Excuse me," she said as she read Esme's texts.

'Why are you not picking my calls?'

'Pick up the call you old woman!!!'

'Are you even still alive?'

'Do you hate me now?'

'I'm sorry okay, but trust me you won't regret releasing an epub version. Hard copy can only travel so far and epub is more popular than PDF. PDFs suck.'

'Okay, I'm officially worried.'

'I'm coming to your house.'

The last one was sent only minutes ago. She immediately replied, 

'No. Don't come here. I've forgiven you. Just found out it's Independence day. Let's take a break, I'll call you tomorrow and thanks. I really mean it. Happy Independence.'

Now in her bedroom, she hurriedly brushed her teeth and took care of her face.

"So what're we celebrating?" He asked nodding at the wine bottle on the rug.

"Independence." She said looking away.

"You didn't know today was Independence and that looks so last night."

She hated people prying but not wanting to chase her only company, said, "I'm officially an author."

"Oh, that's great." He said trying to look impressed.

Most people just didn't get it. 

"Coffee?" She asked wishing he would just go away.

"Yeah."

"Are you looking for company?"

"How'd you know?"

"Because I'm grouchy and you're still here."

"That obvious huh?" 

Raising an eyebrow, she handed him his coffee.

"Thanks."

"So what's the name?"

She stopped unloading the basket and fixed him with a gaze. 

He was rough and and smelt like aftershave. She wasn't good with scents. It was one of the things Sid teased her about. His eyes were topaz blue and his full lips were strangely inviting. She wasn't looking for one though. He wasn't handsome but his eyes were. He looked somewhere around 50 but she wasn't sure. She was bad at guessing people's ages.

"You're in my house and the only thing I know about you is Dave who lives nextdoor."

He gave her that amused look again and said, "Dave Sawyer. Retired soldier, now owner of a distribution company. Moved here, 2 months ago."

"Not much, but will do." She said wishing he wasn't so stingy.

"What exactly did you want to know?"

"Your age, marital status, kids, stuff like that."

"Are you offering me a job or are you hitting on me."

"Hey, back up there, I'm just curious."

"57, single, I have a daughter."

She was shellshocked. 57?! Unbelievable! Either that guy was lying or she really needed some anti-aging pills.

"So what's the name?" He asked still sporting that amused look. In fact he wanted to laugh at the expression on her face.

Collecting herself, she said, "Locked In."

"Do you even read novels?" she asked judging his expression.

"Sounds like it would be a great read and I used to read novels, stopped after I joined the army."

"Why did you stop?"

"I was too busy fielding all the attention that came with being the best in my class and rising through the ranks. I'm trying to start again, haven't had much luck with it anyway."

She thought him interesting. He thought she was funny.

"So what's the book about?"

"Not telling, you gotta read it."

"Okay."

"Okay? Thought you quit reading."

"Don't you want me to read your book?"

That question sparked strange feelings in her and she smiled as she answered, "I do."

"Wow, sounds like we're getting married already." He said taking in her perfectly lined brows, round bespectacled eyes and oval face. Her dark skin suited her perfectly and her sassy remarks reminded him of his sister. He preferred long haired women but she looked oddly cute with her short black hair. Looking at her smile was refreshing but he noticed it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Why are you alone?" She asked, uncomfortable with his accessing eyes.

"I got married pretty early, around 20. We were college sweethearts. 7 years into our marriage, she suddenly left. She didn't want me to find her, but I tried looking for her. Said she didn't want to be tied down anymore especially with the volatile nature of my job. We had two kids and I sent them to live with my mother. My daughter's now a missionary doctor in Bolivia. My son died early this year in an accident and his wife doesn't want to keep their 7 year old daughter. She'll be coming over next week to live with me."

She felt many things as he ended his story, but the strongest was understanding. She knew what it was to be alone.

"Are you usually this open to strangers?" She asked irked that he was so forthcoming.

"Are you usually this inquisitive? And I live nextdoor." 

"Thanks for the coffee." He said standing, "I'll be on my way."

Locking his door, he went straight to his fridge. Armed with a can of yogurt, he searched for her novel on Google. 

Thinking of what to eat while watching the evening march on TV, her doorbell rang. 

"I ordered too much chicken, so I thought I should share." Dave said with a goofy smile.

"That's a lame excuse."

"Are you always this kind?"

"Of course," she said smiling as the smell of the chicken made her tummy grumble.

She took the chicken from him and led the way to the kitchen.

"I've been reading your book." 

She smiled to herself, Esme was right about the online release. 

"How long did it take you to write it? It's like 1000 pages or something."

"12 years."

He looked her and laughing, he said, "You're kidding, right?"

"Why is that so hard to believe. I gave up so many times. It took loss and loneliness to get me to finish it."

He didn't know what to say. He knew about her family from Mrs Wilson, who lived opposite her house. The old lady was worried crazy about her. It was something he tried to avoid bringing up.

"I'm so sorry. Mrs Wilson told me about them."

"That nosey old..."

"She's worried about you, you know. Most of them are. Mrs. Maude said you just kept your head down and avoided eye contact. She said it wasn't like that until Ravi passed."

"Should I be annoyed that you've been gathering Intel on me or should I be flattered?"

He doubled over with laughter. After some minutes he said, "Emily is like a younger you right, except she's not Indian?"

Emily was the protagonist of Locked In and she missed her dearly.

"Something like that," she said as she picked the wine he brought.

"Non-alcoholic?" She asked, surprised.

"The bottle from earlier was only half empty and you were drunk."

How blunt and observant, she thought as she placed the chicken on plates.

"So when is the book launch?"

"Not every book is 'launched'". She said making quotes with her hands.

"How about you invite your neighbors over for a little party to celebrate."

"Do you like parties?" She asked.

"Not particularly."

"Well so do I."

"Mr. James has a bookstore and his wife has a big mouth. I bet she'd do better than any advertising agency with just a party invite. The Grants have a large family and I heard their second daughter is studying literature in college and is a very popular blogger there too."

She knew Mrs. James. The woman never stopped talking. She didn't know how to like her.

"How'd you know all this?"

"It's called socializing. And Mrs James just loves to go on and on. I could help you, if you want."

"I don't know. Yesterday was supposed to be one of my happiest days but I was depressed and here you are with plans to 'integrate' me back into society and launch my book. What're you? An angel?"

"Maybe. Why were you depressed?"

"I couldn't mess around with my characters anymore. Emily was finally out of my hands, and Jake and Purvi and Harriet too. Even one-eyed Mr. Friedman. I didn't see myself doing anything else. I didn't know if I could endure it without them running around in my head keeping me sane and awake at night. Making my heart beat fast and bringing me to tears."

"Maybe that was what kept me at the novel for so long, fear of being done with them."

"You can start something else. I've read only a few chapters of Locked In and believe me, the world's gonna love it. Prepare to give 'em something else."

She pushed all thoughts of writing another book out of her mind as she rinsed the wine glasses.

"Happy Independence," he said as they clinked their glasses, " to Locked In."

Suddenly, Dave looked 28 and was undercover in the plains of Mogadishu. Ideas were swimming around in her head as a plot was coming to life. Smiling, she said, "To freedom."

Yup, she thought, perfect name for the next one.