What was that insipid noise? It was not the phone, fax or doorbell. Wait - was it the doorbell? Maybe she had a doorbell and just did not notice it? Yes, it sounded just like someone thoughtlessly (or if thoughtful, very obnoxiously) placing one’s finger on a buzzer and pressing down on it in long bouts.
How strange that Penny had not thought she had a doorbell, but then again no one had really visited her except for Rog, who had his own key (safety reasons and all).
Hesitantly, she went to the door. It was only a few paces. It really did not sound like the noise was from that direction, but she was not one with a sense of great hearing distinction.
A thousand thoughts ran through her mind before she actually looked out the peephole. She began to wonder who even had her address. Maybe it was her mother really surprising her. Maybe it was her birthday. Had she forgotten her own birthday? No, she was fairly sure it had just been a month or two ago, remembering the feel of the artificial smile of graciousness she had worn through out the dinner party her mother had given her. It would have been better if they had just bought her a really good bottle of zinfandel and let her be alone, but alas, meaning well, they insisted she be social. And her mother had taken pains to make her favorite meal, fillet of beef with a blue cheese topping. It probably had a wonderful French sounding name but, she could not think of it.
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