Erika froze just in time not to trip over a black-and-white blur that shot past her legs. It slowed down and settled on the other side of the road. It was a familiar kitten. Erika looked up and caught sight of Stephanie holding the other one to her chest, hurrying after the escapee.
Erika had never seen Stephanie outside of her house, even if she passed by it nearly every day.
Stephanie froze nearly in the middle of the road when she realized the kitten stepped back whenever she stepped forward. Erika walked up to her and Steph glanced at her and then again, eyes wider, when she saw that it was Erika. She grimaced, just a bit, and clutched her cat closer.
Erika slowed down her steps. Maybe Steph didn’t want Erika to intrude—
“Um, hi,” Steph said, eyes flitting away, “I’m—I’m sorry about the bother, I just—do you have any idea of an easy way, to, like, get that cat? Because as it is, it’s not letting me get close and I don’t know how I’m gonna bring it back home, I swear, I just opened the door for a second and—”
Erika took a hesitant step closer.
“I think I know how to get it?” she said, more a question than not, but when Steph turned pleading eyes at her she relaxed. “We should get out of the road, though.”
Erika stepped softly toward the sidewalk where the kitty was standing, and Steph followed her. They sat down about 7 feet away from the kitten, who seemed to relax when they were sitting and not getting any closer.
“If we just relax and maybe even lay down, it should come up to us,” Erika told Steph with a smile.
“… really?”
“Yeah. Everything’ll be fine.”
It took the cat some good five minutes of relaxed chatting until it approached them; Erika snagged it when it was close enough and held it close, and the kitty complained loudly but didn’t hurt her.
“Victory!” she crowed.
“Thank god,” Steph said with a sigh. She reached out to pet it, careful not to loosen her hold on the one with her. She swayed close to Erika without lifting her eyes to her; she still smelled like earth and plants. “I swear, I just opened my bedroom door for a second and they dashed out and went out the window—I swear I didn’t mean for them to get out, I don’t want them to be outdoor cats. That’s really dangerous. So," she said without really looking up at Erika, “thank you.”
“It’s fine,” Erika said, standing up. She reached out a hand and Steph allowed herself to be helped up, face slightly pink. “These guys are adorable, I’m glad you’re planning on having them indoors.”
“Yeah,” Steph said, looking up at her.
“You probably want this little guy back?” Erika said, raising the kitty a bit. She eyed the way Stephanie was clutching at her own cat with both her hands and entire arms. “Or, I could help…?”
“Oh, no, it’s fine! Don’t worry, I don’t want to bother, I’ll just—” She struggled with trying to get her hands away from her cat but couldn’t help holding it close when it tried to wiggle free. “It’s fine, I’ll just— “
“It’s no problem to me, Steph,” Erika said, voice low. “I can carry him to your house. I mean, it’s only a few steps away.”
“I know,” Steph said, eyes on the ground. She looked weirdly anxious about something that seemed so simple, one hand curled tightly around her shirt. “I just… my house is a mess, everything’s awful, I haven’t cleaned it up…”
Erika gave her a grin. “It’s fine, I don’t judge. Houses are always messy when you first move in, anyway.”
Steph toed the ground.
“…yeah, okay,” she said, and turned around to lead Erika to her house.
When Erika walked in, she realized why exactly Steph hadn’t wanted her to come. The house was empty, hollow, the only furniture the barebones of what the Sheriff had left behind, no decorations on the walls, nothing. Stephanie had been here for some time and yet her house looked like no one was living there. It looked like a place that was still waiting for someone to properly move in.
Though it was a bit messy, the parts of it more occupied; the couch was filled with books, there was a laptop thrown around, DVDs stacked on top of the coffee table.
“I guess it’s hard,” Erika said as they walked further into the house, upstairs. “In the city you’d never get a place this big, after all.”
“Yeah,” Steph said.
“I like it,” Erika told her, and was a bit surprised to find that it was true.
Steph sent her a surprised, disbelieving look. Erika had to laugh.
“I don’t like my house,” Erika confessed, and saw Steph blink in surprise. “I don’t know… I grew up here, and I always knew I’d get that house, and it’s full of—everything. Too much. I don’t know. Your place looks… new.”
Erika’s house was too full—and too empty. It was supposed to belong to her and to Lu.
“I guess…” Steph said. She opened up her bedroom door and quickly threw the cat in, grabbed Erika’s, threw it in as well, and closed it shut very quickly. Instantly they started to meow their complaints. “Well,” she said, and turned around to look at Erika. “I should—I could do—maybe some lemonade? As a thanks? For the cats?”
“Yeah, sure,” Erika said, putting her hands in her pockets, trying not to look too overly pleased.
***
Steph’s lemonade was subpar, honestly, but still tasted very sweet since Steph had made it for Erika. Stephanie leaned against her kitchen counter with the glass held very close to her, but Erika must have said something right, because her shoulders were loose, and she was looking at Erika. She smiled with humor when Erika told her the lemonade was good and didn’t seem to mind that Erika was standing a little bit too close.
“You look tired,” Erika commented, trying to fill the silence.
Stephanie blinked when she looked up. “I’ve just been trying to work a lot, I guess. But this book is a damn mess and I hate it.”
“Oh!” Erika perked up. “A book? Are you a writer?”
Steph winced. “No? I mean, I do try to write, but I’ve been neglecting it a lot. A lot. I’m an editor.”
“Ah. I was about to ask for a signed copy, here.”
Steph shrugged. “I’m probably going to stop writing. I mean. I basically already did. I’m not very good at it.”
“It doesn’t seem like you’re too happy about your work as an editor, though.”
Steph shrugged again, looking down at her glass. “It’s fine. It’s just not my favorite thing. Writing just… doesn’t pay the bills.”
“I guess,” Erika said. “But if you miss writing—I mean, why not start again? You don’t have to give up on it. You could find time for it.”
“I could,” Steph agreed vaguely.
“I think I’d like to see a book of yours,” Erika mused. “I could tell everybody I knew you. Yeah, that famous Stephanie Esperanza? I’ve all her books signed.”
Steph laughed, glancing at her. “I’d sign your books.”
“Well, maybe you will.”
There was silence for a moment. The cats were still mewing, but it was quiet beside that. Erika liked the quiet of her town, had always found it hard to focus in the constant noise of the big city. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence.
“Steph,” Erik said, and took a deep breath when the woman turned to her. “I was wondering—if you’re free, would you like to go out to dinner with me? I’d really like to get to know you better.”
She stared at Erika. Her eyes were wide and very dark, and she hastily grabbed her glass when it started slipping from her grip. She seemed—confused?
“Yes,” she blurted out, then seemed to steel herself, standing up straighter. “Yes,” she said more firmly, even as a blush so fierce rose up on her face Erika wondered if she should be worried.
“Oh,” Erika said, and felt a smile bloom on her face. “Good. Okay. I’m glad.”
“Yes, I’m. Free. Always. Whenever. Just—call me.”
“I don’t ha
ve your phone number,” Erika admitted. “Which is why I stalk my own restaurant waiting for you to show up.”
Steph’s laugh eased her expression, loosened her shoulders. She leaned slightly toward Erika.
***
“Seriously,” Edward said, voice flat, though he didn’t look up from his magazine. “You just met her and now you’ve asked her out. She’s an out-of-towner, no one knows her. She could be a serial killer.”
“Edward, shut up,” Erika said, and tried hard to focus on the movie playing on her TV.
Her house was bright and cluttered with her things; after visiting Stephanie’s empty house, it was strangely uncomfortable to be sitting in her own home. She couldn’t help thinking about how she’d always thought it’d look with her things and Lu’s, how she’d crammed everything she could inside this place when she’d just moved in and couldn’t bear the empty spaces.
“Lu was from another town too,” Erika added.
“Yeah, and that ended well.”
“Everyone loved her.”
“I’m just saying,” her brother said, raising his hands in defense. “I’m glad you’re back to dating, your relationship to Luciana had been a dumpster fire for years, but—did it have to be her? She looks like she barely washes her hands.”
“You’re going to want to stop bad-mouthing her right now,” Erika said.
“Fine,” Ed said. “But also, is it really the time, sis? With the restaurant, and now your precious café? One would think you should be focused on work.”
“Would one? Know what?” Erika said. She felt a muscle tick in her jaw. “One would think you should be focused on work. “
“What? I will look for a new job, I’ve promised, haven’t I? But it’s only been a few months— “
“You aren’t trying at all.”
“Yeah, well, not all of us can be super successful business owners.” He stood up, threw his magazine to the side and walked to Erika’s kitchen. “And anyway, we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about your ridiculous crush on that woman who lives alone in John’s house and upturned the entire goddamn backyard and possibly hid some bodies there.”
“Seriously, Ed?”
“You should have just dated Mom’s neighbor’s daughter like she wanted,” Edward muttered, getting himself a glass of water.
“You’re just saying that because now Mom’s insisting you meet her.”
“Let’s change the subject.”
“Yeah, I fucking thought so.”
Chapter Five
Steph stared at the screen of her laptop and tried to make sense of the email her boss has sent her. A cat fell from her shoulder into her keyboard, while another happily napped by her left elbow. Was Stephanie hallucinating? Did she need glasses, finally, after twenty-six years of being the only person who wasn’t short-sighted in her family?
Dear Stephanie, she read.
I’m very sorry to inform this. Natyurally is under new management and a big plan to cut costs has been put into motion. We have no option but to terminate your employment after this month. You’ll receive a more formal email later, but I wanted to let you know. You know how much I like your work. Believe me, I wouldn’t let you go if it were my choice. I’ve a spot for you Thursday the week after the next so we can talk about this situation.
I really won’t be able to keep you as you are right now, but there are a few options. Most likely, we will rehire you as a freelancer.
Please reply soon so we may schedule that meeting.
Alfred Arco
Stephanie’s eyes read the words terminate your employment and her brain refused to understand the words. Terminate her employment. New management. Big plan to cut costs. She could stay as a freelancer. Her pay would probably go up, and she’d lose her health insurance.
Steph stared at her screen and didn’t know what to do, mind blank and body cold. How could this happen? Right now?
Suddenly, viscerally, she wanted her mom, her dad, her big sister. This, she thought, bending down over her laptop, hands in her hair: this was punishment. Stupid Stephanie thought she could go away, move to another state, and be fine. Stupid Stephanie thought she could stop helping her parents with bills and leave Donald behind and move to a little piece of heaven alone and that everything would be fine.
Something would happen. Of course, something would. Stephanie slid her hands down to her face. This home, she thought, this stupid place—it was so empty, she couldn’t fill it alone, it wasn’t meant to be just hers, but she was tired and she was weak and she left everyone and came anyway.
Steph wanted her mom. She wanted Don. She wanted her best friend, Pedro, two years older and a foot taller, so black Steph looked pasty white next to him. Pedro would sit beside her and comfort her and put the stupidest movie on for them to watch, and then tell her to get over herself and go looking for another job.
Pedro wasn’t here anymore.
She felt very much alone. She had no one to blame but herself.
***
Steph lay on her couch and couldn’t stare at the ceiling like she wanted to do because there was a cat sleeping directly on top of her face. Her brain kept going in circles, thinking the same thoughts all over again: she was just fired. She lost her health insurance. She was just fired. She could tell no one.
On top of it, Erika had asked her out. Erika asked Stephanie out to dinner. It should be something wonderful but Stephanie’s brain was a bastard and she couldn’t stop thinking about all the ways she’d fuck it up.
And she’d just been fired.
She held her phone in her hand and didn’t even know who to call. She couldn’t actually call anyone. She didn’t want to stress her family out, much less give them the impression she couldn’t handle life alone. She also hadn’t told anyone about Erika in the first place, so no one would really appreciate her joy, or her fear.
Erika was such a good distraction. Steph remembered her out there on the street with her cat, remembered her here in her kitchen, how she looked around her house and didn’t seem confused, or disgusted, just thoughtful.
She had asked Steph out to dinner.
Oh god. What if Stephanie somehow didn’t screw up? Was she going to be able to kiss Erika? Steph was going crazy. She dislodged the cat and put her hands over her face. When would Erika call her? When would they have dinner? She wanted to know what the inside of her house looked like.
She wanted to learn about her ex-wife.
Steph sat up. She should do some work, since she was so fired up. She severely didn’t want to edit that stupid manuscript, but… she thought about Erika’s words in her kitchen. She didn’t need to give up on her own writing. She could make time for it. She hadn’t worked on it in so long.
But her laptop was right there on top of her coffee table. All she had to do was pick it up, open it, open her novel, and start writing. At least it’d distract her from what had happened.
She could do it, she thought. She wanted to tell Erika she was writing, if only to have something to talk about that wasn’t all her damn troubles and family issues and her having been fired and her dead friend.
She picked up the laptop and dragged it to her lap.
***
Jay sold bananas. Steph sat down on a crate next to his booth and kept an eye on her cats, which were already getting too big for their box. If she took her eyes off them, they’d probably be gone in a second.
“Just leave them out,” Jay argued, wrapping bananas in newspaper to give to a costumer. “They’re cats, not dogs. Why keep them stuck inside?”
“It’s dangerous,” Steph said. She plucked a cat from the ground to plop it back inside the box. “Outdoor cats die a lot!”
“They don’t die! And they always come home. I had cats, you know.”
“Me too, Jay. Felix was hit by a truck twice and bit by a dog once, I don’t know how he survived to old age. Blueberry just never came back— “
“Okay, okay,” Jay said with a sigh
. “But what will you do? John’s house is huge, girl. You’re going to put screens everywhere? What are you doing right now?”
“I keep them in the box, and in my room,” Steph admitted.
Jay and Steph looked at the box. There was a cat on the floor next to it and another making its way out.
“That’s working,” Jay said drily.
“I’m working on it! And—speaking of cats, I need a favor…”
“I am too old to help you put screens everywhere, girl.”
“No, it’s not that. I’m going back home next week, in a few days— “
He squinted at her. “You moving away already?”
Steph grimaced. “No. I just have, uh, some family stuff. I’ll be back in a couple of days! But I can’t take these two with me, and I don’t have anyone else—”
“Erika,” Jay said promptly.
“I’m not going to ask her to take the cats in!”
“My wife does not want more cats, Stephanie.”
“I’m not asking you to keep them!” Steph grabbed the box and held it in her lap. One cat sprinted up her shirt, little claws poking her skin underneath. “Just… keep them closed in your bathroom. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Jay looked at her for a moment, a hand scratching at his chin.
“Why not Erika?”
Steph scowled at him. “Because she’s not like you. She’s not my friend.”
“Ah,” Jay said, understanding. “She is… your girlfriend.”
“No,” she said. “Erika is not my girlfriend, Jay! Where on earth did you get that idea!”
“I know you had dinner!”
“What? We didn’t!”
“Will have dinner,” he corrected himself. “Same thing! You said yes, so now you are dating.”
“No,” she argued, sending him a glare. She wasn’t dating Erika. All they’d have was one stupid dinner and that’d be that, probably. “Where did you even hear that from?”
“I’ll take the cats if you admit you are dating,” Jay said.
“No!”
“I’ll help you screen the house if you admit you are dating.”
Steph scowled down at her box.
***
Home Again Page 3
