Now.?Swallowing hard, Brittany looked over her shoulder at Mr. Hathaway. ?Mmmmph??A pair of cold, hard eyes met her imploring gaze. The fingers around her neck tightened.?Walk down, or fall down.?Mewling into the tape, Brittany eyed the stairs and started down. Mr. Hathaway lingered in the doorway until the undersides of Brittany’s slippers scraped the concrete floor.She heard the door close, the lock slide into place, and a click. The basement went black. The footfalls of Mr. Hathaway’s boots on the stairs were thunderous.Tears welled up in Brittany’s eyes. A thin sheen of perspiration coated her body, her t-shirt clinging to her abdomen. The cool, damp subterranean air caressed her slick bare legs, sending goose bumps up her calves and thighs.Taking a few steps backward, Brittany felt her shoulder blades bump into the concrete wall. Mr. Hathaway’s footfalls were deafening now. She twisted her wrists and a surge of desperation, fear, and frustration rose in her chest. Teardrops. "Are you just going to leave me ... high and dry?" Oh, poor baby," she laughed. "Get moving before I change my mind."She followed me into the shower and I got the relief I was hoping for.On Christmas Eve day I held our traditional early-closing party for the staff. Actually, Kim and Carolyn Van Horne had made the arrangements and then Kim came to the house to get me and bring me to the store. It was fun and a relief to get back to the environment and people I knew so well. Each person had a ten dollar limit on one gift and names were drawn from a hat. A lot of CD's were bought for the occasion it appeared.At the house, Christmas was great, just like Thanksgiving. The whole family was with us as Brandon was home and my parents came both Christmas Eve and the next day. The tree was piled with gifts and I was almost embarrassed at it. We had so much and were so blessed that I couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Everyone took turns at making sure I didn't have to do anything, to the.
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