Such an Ordinary Day

By Patricia Toth

This story takes you on an emotional roller coaster ride with Beth, a Boomer grandmother, and her slightly crazy friend Maddy. They drive cross-county in an attempt to escape the man who is determined to kill Beth. Determined to survive, Beth drives from Illinois intending to reach Tucson, Arizona, with the hope he won't follow. Along the way, she finds courage by remembering the lives of three friends who survived their own personal challenges. "Such an Ordinary Day" is about Beth and relationships that include courage, suspense, murder, laughter, and tears. "Such and Ordinary Day" is entertaining story that's far from ordinary..

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patricia Toth
• Release date: Jun 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005347789

Patricia Toth

Born in Cleveland, Ohio, in 1946, I'm old enough to have enjoyed several careers. I live in sunny Arizona now and adore hot weather. Best of all, I'll never need to shovel snow again. Between Ohio and Arizona, there were two husbands, one son, two daughters-in-law, and one grandson. I didn't keep count of how many boyfriends I had between my first and second husbands. As you can imagine, I've been living a full and turbulent life. Throughout my working years, I was a secretary, office manager, realtor, Avon lady, and a plumbing and electrical buyer. I finally found my niche as a technical writer which took care of paying my bills for more than 25-years. I've written numerous award-winning documents that have been published globally. When I retired in 2014, I had no doubt I'd continue writing. I also knew I was tired of people telling me technical writers aren't creative. That was simply silly. I love capturing words and letting them flow from my mind onto a keyboard. I also love sharing what I've learned during this crazy process called "aging." It makes sense to combine my writing with my creativity. In the process, I've discovered growing old is a pleasure and a wonderful opportunity to write books for you..

Book preview

Such an Ordinary Day

Patricia A Toth

Copyright © 2015, 2022. Patricia A Toth

All rights reserved - worldwide.

This book is copyrighted.

Smashwords Edition

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INTRODUCTION

Such an Ordinary Day is based on reality mixed with fiction. It was written, edited, designed, and published by Patricia A Toth who lived much of it. At the same time, the story includes a liberal amount of fiction. With a few exceptions, Patricia changed the names of people, places, and businesses to protect the innocent. There are times when the innocent person she is protecting is herself.

Because Patricia has an enormous aversion to being sued, she wrote this book so any resemblance to the characters, events, locations, or business establishments are designed to protect the privacy of real people.

Within the story you'll read here, you'll find smaller stories about three extraordinary women. Each woman's story is based on truth.

Table of Contents

A Waiting Game

Too Damn

Three Friends

Outrunning Fear

An Ordinary Day

All About Her

On the Move

Secrets in the Dark

Head On

Hot Love

Goodbye, Hello

Nowhere in Albuquerque

Boxcar Religion

Baby Bat

Jesus Saves

A Touching Ending

About the Author

More eBooks by Patricia Toth

A Waiting Game

Fleeing, fleeing the scene of the crime. Look and you'll see the intense blackness of night. There are two people. One is a man. The other is a woman.

They’re in the woods, or maybe it's an empty parking garage, or it might be anywhere that appears innocent in the brightness of daylight.

The moon is round. You can't see that it is shining brightly. It’s forced to send down shadowy streaks of moonlight from behind smoky clouds. The woman looks over her shoulder. We witness the starkness of fear on her face.

She is running, running with all that is in her. We can hear the loud heaving of her breath.

She stumbles. Exhausted: She doesn't rest. Picking herself up, she runs again while burning all of the energy within her. On the edge of the moonlight, she seeks shadows. She must reach safety wherever that is.

Instinctively, she understands the hunter never loses sight of her. She is his prey. She has no doubt he is running too.

Running. She keeps running. Her lungs capture and expel desperate gasps of panicked air. Her legs labor harder than they ever have, stretching from ground-to-air over and over. Her ears hear the primeval sound of her heart’s screaming effort to survive.

From the moment my hunter filled me with such terror, I knew what I had to do to survive. Fleeing what some might call the scene of Frank’s almost crime, I became consumed by the fierce terror he created within me. I knew my hunter well. He was my husband. Fear of him controlled my every thought, nerve and muscle. I knew what he was capable of doing. I also knew that If I wanted to live, I needed to run.

I fled from Frank under the invisible cloak of day-to-day normalcy, praying he would not see through my flesh and into my turmoil. My mind ran first. My body followed two weeks later. Accompanied by my desire to stay alive, I began by running in-place with an intense slowness. I survived with the help of three very special friends.

October 2003: Tucson

When I was a child, my Mother would scold me with, Beth! You’re at it again. Stop thinking so damn much. I’ve given her words considerable thought throughout my fifty-nine years. Even now, I am not certain she knew what she was talking about. However, there is something I absolutely do know. The energy it takes to untangle thoughts caught in a whirlpool of fear burns a lot of mental calories.

This is near the end of my story. My vanishing here, to Tucson, is intentional. On our entire planet, there are only three people who can tell you where I am. No one else has the faintest idea – no one at all. My children, sister, co-workers, and the women from my church don’t know how to find me. If my mother were alive, I'd make sure she didn’t know.

It has to be this way. I have no doubt Frank has been busy talking to everyone he believes might know where I am. I have no idea what lies he might share and I don't care. The only thing that matters is that I've done my best to ensure he remains totally unaware of where I am.

It’s been seven days since I fled from my home. I’m so tired of being tired. I already ache with loneliness. I wish I could tell everyone in my family and all of my friends that I am not being secretive because I don’t love them. I love each of them very much. That is, except for Frank. Maybe I still love him. I’m not sure.

The people I’ve left behind are ordinary, and yet each is extraordinary in their own way. They’re a mix of over-achievers, off-center characters, and mostly everyday folk with a black sheep or two who added a little extra spice and a few giggles to my life. Their flaws make them perfect.

I couldn’t help what happened. Frank can lie to them about me if he wants to, and he probably will. I can't allow myself to reach out with the truth. Until I'm safe from him, they don’t need to know. They simply have to adjust to life without me.

Someday, I’ll fill them in ... maybe. Until then, I need to be extremely careful about who I trust. I want to stay alive. Right now, all I want is to remember which room Maddy is staying in. I'd like to walk down the hall, knock on her door, and do my best to coax her into moving faster.

I’ve been out of bed for more than an hour. I’ve showered and I’m dressed. I wish my memory was as awake as the rest of me.

I vaguely remember the desk clerk giving us rooms on the same floor; but I can’t recall her room number. If I step into the hallway, I’m sure the doors in the long corridor would all look the same except for a little plaque with the room's number.

As I listen to the loudness of my stomach grumbling, I feel as though I have been waiting for her forever. I realize Maddy is in her seventies. She's nearly twenty years older than me. I am aware she tends to move slowly, especially in the morning; but that doesn’t make any difference right now. My hunger is competing with my patience. My patience is beginning to lose.

Most of the many people in this crazy world want to be understood. At my age I should, at the very least, be able to say with confidence that I know myself. I thought I would grow to understand myself gradually as the years meandered across time. Now I don’t know if I’ll ever understand me. I think I should because I'm acutely aware I might be running out of time.

The repeated sound of my stomach growling fills my room. Damn it, God. I already have enough to worry about. What’s keeping Maddy? If she had knocked on my door, we’d be sitting somewhere enjoying breakfast. I wouldn’t be spending my time thinking so much.

As the years slid by, I did my best to be a good wife. I cooked, cleaned, entertained his friends, and generally did whatever he asked. My greatest crime was that my weight climbed by slightly more than two dress sizes. He never failed to let me know he didn't like it. As his remarks became nastier, I responded by eating more.

Although I liked the idea, I could never avoid the scale in my doctor’s office. However, I could avoid telling people what the damn machine said. I preferred to chance God’s disfavor by sharing lower numbers, than to admit to anyone that I was aware I am fat. Thankfully, except for Frank, most people were kind enough to pretend they believed my little white lies.

If my weight was the only part of my life that wasn't quite the way it should have been, I’d would have been fine. Except for my weight, which isn’t God's fault, I thank Him for doing a pretty good job of putting me together. When I was young, I would have appreciated it if He had given me nice large breasts; but He didn’t. On the other hand, He compensated by giving me pretty eyes, and He threw in naturally dark, thick eyelashes. None of it matters now. If I were to give you a detailed description of what I look like now, you still wouldn’t know me.

How could you? I’m still trying to figure out me.

I should have fallen asleep quickly last night because I was exhausted. Instead, I called room service. Within minutes, I was washing down fudge brownies with big gulps of icy cold milk. In my determination to shed pounds, I ordered skim milk.

Damn it. The thought of brownies and milk have made my stomach growl again. Not only is Maddy keeping me waiting, she’s keeping Susan and Nora waiting too. She wasn’t this slow when we were driving across the country, but we were sharing a room then. I knew how to get her moving.

I understand she’s the center of her own universe, but it makes me angry that she’s being so rude again. I am getting worried about her, so I need to do something. I pick up the phone and press O.

Is this the Front Desk?

Yes Madam, a non-descript male voice answers.

I need Maddy’s room number. We’re late for breakfast.

Would you like an escort to the patio?

You’ve misunderstood. My friend is joining me, and she’s late. I want to call her room, but I’ve lost the number.

Do you need your room number?

I’m in it! It’s the telephone number for Maddy’s room that I need.

May I send someone to help you?

I don’t need someone. I need to call Maddy.

Please be patient. Someone will be there soon.

I don’t want you to send someone here, damn it. All I want is Maddy’s phone number!

Madam, please be patient. I’m sure you only need to wait a few more minutes.

How do you know how much longer I’ll have to wait? Not waiting for his answer, I vent my frustration by slamming the phone down. I don’t understand why any resort would put someone as incompetent as him at the Front Desk.

Thinking about incompetent people, I wish I hadn’t left Maddy alone.

Passing the mirror attached to the wall above the dresser, I straighten my shoulders and re-adjust a stray wisp of graying hair. I measure five-foot-seven inches tall. I used to be five-foot-eight, but that