The day Mia died (Freewrite - Part 2)

Part 1

Friday was the day Mia stopped by the little market right outside Hampton Gardens to buy fresh fruit, enough to last her for a week. Apples and grapes, they were supposed to be good for her health. She wasn't mad about fruit, but she ate them dutifully, as if her mother was still there to watch her.
Her eyes brightened when she saw a woman selling strawberries, the first of the season, and the smell was divine. Quite expensive, too, but after the terrible morning she’d had, she felt like she deserved a treat. Fresh strawberries smothered in cream, served in a chilled glass bowl, what more can you want from life?
At every stop, Mia watched nervously the passengers getting on, afraid of seeing those nasty boys again, but the ride back home was uneventful. Mia was relieved to reach her neighborhood safely. The people were so much nicer there, some of them even nodded when their eyes met. People who knew her, knew she was of a good family.

The afternoon was spent peacefully, tending to the plants in her little garden. Not that they needed much tending to, but she’d rather not spend time inside, alone with her thoughts. It won’t be long until the daffodils will be in bloom, she noted absentmindedly. Truth was she never cared much about flowers, but at least they made the garden look nice. And it was something to do while she waited for her soap to come on, at 6 pm, and then she’ll have her strawberries and the house will be quiet and the incident will be forgotten. She’d always had a soft spot for soap operas, even though she knew they were silly. Like this girl, Sarah, she was sure the man she was in love with will turn out to be a jerk, you could see it in his eyes. Just like Fred, the man Mia almost married forty years ago. She should have known better, her mother had warned her he was a loafer she’d end up supporting for all of his life. A good think she found out about the other girl he was seeing secretly.
She almost choked on a strawberry when Sarah said ‘yes’. She wanted to scream at the screen - ‘How can you be so stupid? He’s after your daddy’s money?’ And now she’ll have to wait until Monday to see if they really get married. She hated that.
Just before going to bed she wondered if it’d be alright to have a little sherry, just a small glass to help her sleep. She had trouble sleeping, the old house seemed to be weighing in on her, floors creaked and sometimes she was sure there was a burglar prowling and she lay very still under the blankets, straining her ears to hear footsteps, praying she won’t hear the doorknob slowly turning. She tried to remember if the door was locked or maybe some window was left open. She always checked and double-checked, but you can never be sure.
On such nights, she’d turn on the radio on the bed stand and put on some music. Soft jazz was her favorite. She never played it loud, even though her mother was dead and she wouldn’t be muttering from the other room to turn it down. Jazz made her think of elegant restaurants with women in daring dresses and men holding their hands and whispering in their ears. She knew it was wicked to be thinking about such things, especially in her old age, but a little dreaming never hurt anyone. Maybe she should go out more. A night at the theater would be nice, if she could convince Matilda to come. Maybe if she promised to pay for the cab she would… She could wear the black skirt and her silk white shirt and a dash of perfume, of course. And no one would call her an old fart then.
Mia fell asleep dreaming of the night at the theater, forgetting the radio on. Duke Ellington playing into the night she never woke up from. She was buried early on Tuesday, just about the time she would have been at the gardens. The ducks did not notice her absence.

Thanks for reading!