Locked Out
theacerps:
Thom had nearly given up all hope, ready to slump down against his door and simply wait things out, or perhaps find a way to break down his door and just pay the figurative (and surely literal) consequences later. He had squeezed his eyes tightly closed, still bouncing in an attempt to sooth Abby, and had nearly missed the fact that his neighbor had come home. If it were’t for her voice, he never would have known, his mind too focused on the sounds of Abby’s whimpers and wishing them into silence.
“No…” he said, his voice somewhere between a whimper and a laugh at how pathetic he felt. Opening his eyes, he sighed, forced himself to gain control of himself (and to stop bouncing, as much as Abby might dislike it), and spoke in a voice that didn’t seem quite so whiny. “I’ve managed to lock myself out, with only my mailbox key – which I clearly need to attach to my actual keys so I never do this again – no wallet, no phone, no diapers, no formula… and no clue what the hell I’m doing,” he let out another feeble laugh, self-deprecation feeling like the only way to deal with his current situation.
Martie’s heart broke for the man and everything that she’d ever been taught as a woman flew out of her mind. She wanted to help this man. She wanted to help the small baby that he held in his large arms. Call it maternal instinct, call it attraction to a beautiful family, she found herself approaching her desperate neighbor. “I’m Martie,” she said, holding her hand out towards her door. “Your neighbor.”
She started to fish through her purse. “Look,” she said, as her hand closed around her phone. “Do you want to use my phone? Call a locksmith?” She held out the small device for him before realizing that his arms were full. She pulled it back towards her. “I’ll look up a number,” she told him, as she started a Google search. “You can wait in my place.” She looked up at him, offering a smile. “I don’t have diapers or formula, but I do have a more comfortable place to sit?”












