The Monitor

This story centers around a woman who overhears the activities of her neighbor on her baby monitor. The woman listens for a while and then, to her surprise, hears a forbidden tryst.  The tryst leads to worse things later on in the story.

I placed 11th on the Writer’s Digest Annual Short Story Contest with this one.

 

Here is a snippet.

 

The Baby Monitor

 

 

 

It all started a little while back. We had just moved to Dallas from Georgetown. My husband, Lawrence had been working late nights at his new law firm, and I was left tending to our two year old daughter, Rachael. 

The first night it happened, it scared me silly. I was sitting on my bed, reading the newest Grisham novel, (hoping to gain some insight into my husband’s job) when I heard Rachel crying on the baby monitor.  I put the book down and went into her room. We live in respectable two story house, at least until Lawrence makes partner, once that happens we’d better get a much nicer home in the Highland Park area.

I entered Rachael’s room. She was sound asleep. I double-checked her. She was snoozing heavily and her covers were barely disturbed. She’d apparently been sleeping for a while.

I walked back to my bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed, and heard a female’s voice on the baby monitor. I panicked and bolted back into Rachael’s bedroom. She was still snoozing without a worry.

Back in my bedroom I still heard a woman speaking. It was more like cooing. Thinking I was some sort of detective, I listened.  

The voice became clear after a few moments of quiet talking. It was Sheila from down the street. Her son, Alex was awake. He was four but she still kept him on the monitor. She too had a nice two story home, and she was afraid young Alex might take a tumble down the stairs.  I didn’t blame her; I had a port-a-gate up for just that very reason.

Sheila sang to Alex for a while. I thought her voice a touch on the tinny side.  Young Alex apparently went back to sleep and the crinkly sound of a plastic mattress cover emitted from the monitor as Sheila put him back on his bed. I heard all this very clearly as if it was my monitor in just the other room instead of three houses down.

Sheila apparently left the room, and the monitor grew quiet. I rolled over and curled up in my blanket, thinking nothing more of it. In the hectic next morning, I forgot to mention it to Lawrence.  If I had of, maybe this dilemma could have been avoided.  Maybe.