Honey Lou speared the scissors into the cutting board and went to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. The red blood soaked the white porcelain like cherry juice on white tile – suddenly, and with full absorption. All of a sudden, Honey Lou oticed she had to urinate – but she had to wash her hands thoroughly, get all the blood off, before she walked around the house any more than she had. She tapped her feet to forget the burning urge.
Just when the water began to run clear and the sink began to turn white again, Honey Lou eard the front doorbell ring.. Two seconds later, the door opened and she heard steps walking on the hardwood floor toward the kitchen.
“Honey Lou,” a high-pitched soprano called out. It was Trudy Bixler. Honey Lou nsides froze in place, her heart seemed to stop, and she ceased breathing – the scissors! She reached over for the scissors and washed them in the sink, concealing them with her body.
“Trudy, what brings you here today,” she said, her voice far more calm and even than she’d have thought possible.
Honey Loulooked down – blood was cleared. She rinsed off the scissors again and placed them behind the faucet. Turned off the water. Reached for the white hand towel – but stopped, and reached for the dark one instead.
“Just passing through and realized I need to borrow eggs for my cake. Would you mind being a dear?”
“Of course,” she said, “Take whatever you need. Oh – and let’s go out the back door. I want to show you my lilies. But quickly, because I have to pick up Charles and Sofia.”
Please leave, Trudy … so I can attend to the rest of this business and get on with the whole charade. Honey Lou ooked toward the dining room. She could see a gray hand under one of the dining room chairs, the fallen vase, and a pool of blood. Trudy needed to leave right away.
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