1

She could not help but recall how she had started talking to the virtual Dedan.

***

One week ago

A heavy mist had overtaken the city that evening and the traffic was backed up from the beginning of the one-lane road she was driving on, to the roundabout ahead that opened up to a crossroad.

As the station wagon in front of her Sedan stopped again, Tamara Gray banged her hands on the steering wheel. It was nearly 7:30 pm. She could not afford to be home late, especially not today. She didn’t want her fiancé’s wrath. She had thought that she would be home early and had not anticipated the fog or traffic.

The traffic crawled and moved at a snail’s pace until it finally cleared at the roundabout ahead and Tamara turned right onto a less busy street with towering residential houses.

The end of the street opened up to a quiet street surrounded on either side by well-off-looking residential structures that stood widely apart from each other, all low-fenced for the sake of decoration rather than protection.

Trees and colorful flowers surrounded the structures, almost making them invincible and lonely but at the same time, appealing.

Tamara drove down the end of the lane and pulled the car into the driveway, curiously observing the parking space before parking the car in the roomy garage by the house. The time on the dashboard proclaimed 8:30 pm. She was late but still right on time because her fiancé’s car was not there in the garage.

Before she got out of the car, she turned on the interior light and studied her reflection in the mirror. She was a mess, her caramel-colored hair disheveled and her lipstick slightly smudged and messy, like a cheating lover or a woman who had just had a hot and steamy rendezvous.

Stretching for her small handbag on the passenger side, she retrieved a handkerchief and wiped her lips clean before sticking it back inside the bag, retrieving the house key and zipping it close. Then she combed her hair with her fingers. She looked better now, not that anyone was looking but it made her feel more comfortable.

Stepping out of the car with her handbag and house key in hand, she hurried towards the entrance, walked with quick steps up the porch stairs, and reached the front door, which she quickly unlocked before slipping inside the house. Then she shut the door behind her, locked it, and leaned against the door, taking a deep calming breath inside the living room.

A few minutes later, she was freshened up and in a pair of pajamas as she sat down on the sofa to a cup of coffee and a plate of freshly made pancakes in the living room. On the television before her was a horror movie currently showing a girl running away in a dark alley from a masked figure who was hot on her heels and armed with a blood-stained dagger.

Tamara started lifting the tray of food from the side table before her when her phone rang. Her eyes flew to the wall clock: 9:00 pm. Looking at her phone screen, she could see that the caller was not a contact on her phone. It was just a random phone number.

Tamara let the tray rest back on the table and picked up the phone, receiving the call.

“Hello.” She said.

“Am I onto John Wilson?” a deep, balmy, and slightly husky male voice asked. It sounded confident and at the same time, friendly.

“No, you’ve reached a wrong number, sorry.”

“Oh, my bad. I am so sorry for the inconvenience.”

“It happens, so there’s no problem.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Tamara ended the call and placed the phone back on the table. Then she picked up her cup of coffee, stirred it, and took a sip, her eyes on the movie. She consumed her meal rapidly and drained her coffee. The moment she joined the empty cup with the empty plate, her phone rang again.

Across the screen flashed a random number that looked strangely familiar. Picking up the phone, she received the call and brought it up to her ear.

“Hello.”

“Hi, I am sorry but I just had to call back.”

Tamara was momentarily surprised as she recognized the same male voice that had spoken to her earlier.

“Why is that? Hope there’s no problem?”

“Of course not, it’s just that uh…pardon me for saying this but there’s something distinct about your voice. I find it rather… engaging, I mean, magnetic.”

Tamara could not help but allow a small smile split her lips at his compliment.

“Okay, thank you.”

“Mind telling me your name?”

Tamara felt cautious at that moment. Even though his voice was sexy, the fact that he was a stranger was glaring and called for caution. Besides, she was someone’s fiancé.

“Um…don’t be offended but I don’t think I should be talking to you. You’re a stranger.”

“Well, strangers today can be friends tomorrow.” He pointed out.

“Just like friends today can become strangers tomorrow.” She remarked and heard him laugh. It was a brief, rich and warm sound.

“You have a charming sense of humor.” He said and she found herself smiling again, although, she was still cautious about the fact that he was a stranger.

“Thanks.”

“My name is Dedan Anderson.”

His first name struck a familiar chord in her memory.

“Oh, Dedan? That’s my…” she began excitedly but quickly stopped herself.

“Your what?” he asked, not failing to observe her sudden hesitation. Somehow, he knew that she had just held back her words.

“Never mind,” Tamara said, drawing caution again.

“Your boyfriend’s name?”

Tamara remained silent. She did not feel like answering the question.

“May I know your name?” he pressed.

“You’re still a stranger.” She said tentatively.

“People meet in different ways including accidental phone calls.”

She couldn’t explain or understand it but that one statement had gotten her to keep talking to him.