Drawn To You: A Psychological thriller
Page 9
Her muscles were stiffening up again. When she got home, she’d take a hot bath before getting back to work.
She got a cart and walked the aisles of the drugstore aimlessly, tossing in more Aleve, a couple category romances, a large bag of peanut M&M’s, and tampons. According to her ovulation predictor kit, her period was due soon. She slid the M&M’s into her sweater pocket, paid for the rest of her purchases, walked outside, and noticed the huge craft store next door. …She tossed her bag in the trunk and went inside.
She wandered into the frames section and ate her M&M’s one-by-one while she chose a pair of antiqued silver frames with soft gray mats. Fully half of the store catered to scrapbookers, and she spent over an hour gathering her supplies. She chose a large, white scrapbook embossed with a bouquet of roses tied with a pale pink ribbon. It was a wedding scrapbook, to be devoted to Sean, her future husband. She put it in her cart, along with four filler packs of extra pages. Giddy, she hurried to-and-fro choosing ribbon and glue and enough cutesy pie sayings and wedding themed notions and fabric and markers and assorted crap that her cart was full.
She paid for her purchases, shocked when the total came to almost three hundred bucks, even with the twenty-five percent off coupon she pulled up on her phone. Three hundred bucks on some stickers and little bits and bobs of paper and ribbon! What a racket they had going here. She felt a low-key anxiety settle in her gut. With the photos and the rental car and the crap she’d bought in the drug store, she’d blown over five hundred bucks today, almost without thought. …She could afford it, but not every day, so no more unauthorized Sean shopping sprees.
She left the store and spotted the empty booth to the left of the doors. It was a pay phone that still had a receiver attached! She hadn’t seen one of those things in so long, she’d figured they were obsolete. She stopped her cart beside it, dug some quarters out of her change purse, and picked up the receiver.
No dial tone. Fucking false advertising. She bashed the phone with the receiver over and over until something broke, then tossed the broken thing away from her. It dangled there, swinging gently as she stalked back to her car. She shoved her stuff in the trunk, dug out her disposable phone and dialed Sean’s house.
A man that wasn’t Sean or his dad answered on the third ring. “Yes?”
Was this the brother? “May I speak with Sean please?” Ruby said, her accent heavily British.
“Who is this?”
“A friend.” She jumped as a car horn blared behind her.
“What friend?”
She didn’t like his tone. “Ashley. It’s terribly important that I speak with him.”
“Ashley who? Are you the one who keeps calling and leaving gifts? Because Sean ain’t—”
He was cut off, and she heard muffled sounds, and then Sean’s voice, “…can handle this. Hello?” he said brusquely into the phone.
She didn’t say anything, fearful that he’d recognize her voice.
“Hello!”
She didn’t answer. “Ashley? I don’t know any Ashleys.…Who are you?” He paused to allow her to answer, but she stayed mute. “Why do you keep calling? Why won’t you speak to me? Leave me alone or I’m calling the police. Stop bothering me!” He hung up.
Ruby turned off her phone and stuffed it back in her purse, totally stoked. She’d heard her Baby’s voice again!
She frowned. Though she was quite sure she hadn’t done anything to bother him. He was just confused.
Poor Lamb.
▬▬▬
The surf was crashing against the cliffs, and the sunset over the water was breathtaking, but Ruby sat bent over in her car at the beach, oblivious to the beauty surrounding her. She had been unable to wait the hour’s drive home to get started on her project, so she’d driven to the closest beach. Now she was the lone car left in the rapidly darkening parking lot. She sat in the driver’s seat, tongue out, scrapbook propped against the steering wheel, painstakingly gluing a green rick-rack border around yet another picture of Sean prepping to mow the lawn.
She wanted to look up another poem or pithy quote for the page, but her last phone had died an hour before, her car charger was broken, and in another few minutes it was going to be too dark to work anyway. Her shoulders and neck ached from her hunched over position, but she ignored the discomfort, determined to finish one more page before she called it a night.
Man, she could have been a photographer.
▬▬▬
Jeremy’s car was gone from next door, thank God, and Ruby couldn’t stop smiling as she slowly climbed the steps to her deck. Her hands were full of plastic bags, and she hugged the scrapbook to her chest as she fiddled in her purse for her keys. She could hardly wait to work on it again and watch her videotape. This had been a great day.
She found her keys at the same moment she noticed a piece of paper wedged into the crack of her door.
She set down the bags in her right hand and pulled the note out. It was from Jeremy.
“Where the hell are you? We were supposed to have a picnic today—Remember??? I can’t believe you stood me up! I waited on your porch from noon until now, almost 2:30, but I refuse to wait one minute longer. I’m not going to contact you again, because obviously, you don’t want me around. If you want this relationship to work, it has to be based on trust—and you’ll have to work plenty hard to build mine up again. As far as our relationship is concerned…the ball’s in your court. And, WHEN you call me, you better have a good explanation. Or else.”
He’d signed his name with a curlicue and a flourish like an autograph.
Or else? Or else what? She’d never agreed to have a picnic with him. She vaguely remembered him mentioning it, but she’d refused, and if he was waiting for her to call and apologize, he was going to wait forever.
She tore the note in two and unlocked the door.
So, she guessed, that was that.
CHAPTER 10
Late the next morning, Ruby woke herself up with a groan of pain. Her neck, back and shoulders ached. She sat up in bed, rubbed her neck and winced, wishing Sean was there to massage it. It felt like she hadn’t slept at all.
She made her way gingerly into the bathroom and slammed two Aleve before splashing cold water on her face. She brushed her teeth with her eyes closed. Damned late nights were going to kill her.
She’d bought a VCR on eBay years ago for just such a time as this. She fished it out of her closet, hooked it up, and did an out-of-print yoga tape she’d scored at a thrift store, which always worked the kinks out and made her feel better. When she was through, she committed to doing this magical tape every day, while knowing that she absolutely wouldn’t. It was over an hour long and the dread factor was high.
She made coffee and watched the tape she’d made yesterday of Sean mowing his grass. It was a masterpiece. Afterwards, she rewound the tape, locked it in the coffee table drawer, and settled down at her drawing table.
She’d finished scanning her drawings last night at around 10:30 and had gone to bed early. As she’d been drifting off, inspiration struck, and she’d written a month’s worth of cartoons in under four hours. That never happened.
She read her scribble and felt the hairs on the nape of her neck standing up. This was her best work ever. Hal, her editor, would be ecstatic.
She’d added a new character named Donovan, based on Sean, who would eventually be a mate for Shelby, but for now he was just her crush. Ruby had mined her whole relationship with Sean for humor, and she knew she’d be able to keep this story line fresh for years if she had to. Why hadn’t she thought of this before?
She felt inspired for the first time in a long time, and she couldn’t wait to start drawing them. Unfortunately, she’d promised to meet Hilary for a bike ride at 2:30 and she knew from experience if she allowed herself to get sucked into Sean stuff, she’d never make it out of the house.
She’d work on them later.
Time passed quickly as she colored her Sunday in P
hotoshop and polished her strips until she could find nothing else to fix.
This was her favorite work of the week.
▬▬▬
“Ruby!” Hilary said, panting, “I gotta stop.” Ruby glanced over her shoulder and watched her friend stumble off her bike, letting it clatter to the ground. Hilary was wheezing. She leaned over with her hands on her knees.
Ruby rolled her eyes. Exercising with Hil was never a good idea. They’d barely gone three flat miles, and she’d complained the entire time. “I’m tired.” “I’ve got dry mouth.” “I gotta pee.” As Ruby watched, Hilary lowered herself to the pavement and stuck her head between her knees, sucking air.
Ruby turned and walked her bike back to her friend. “You okay?”
Hilary waved her off without raising her head. “I will be,” she panted. “I’m just a little dizzy. Gimme a minute.”
“How long’s it been since you’ve eaten anything?”
Hilary’s head snapped up. “I had a huge breakfast just this morning. Really.”
Ruby straddled her bike and crossed her arms. “Please. I bet you haven’t eaten in days, and if you have, you’ve barfed it up.”
Hilary looked wounded. “You’re wrong. I ate a big breakfast, and…you know I don’t do that anymore. Maybe I’m coming down with the flu?”
Ruby decided to drop it. Hilary was grown. If she wanted to kill herself, that was her business.
“Let me know when you’re ready, and we’ll get going again,” Ruby said. She hadn’t told Hilary this, but they were headed towards Sean’s parent’s house. They were still about half a mile away though. They’d ride by the house—hopefully Sean would be outside—and she could stop and say, “What a coincidence! I just happened to be riding by with my friend Hilary…” She smiled. What could be more innocent?
“I can’t Rube. I’m exhausted, and sick, and I need to go home.”
Anorexic bitch! She was going to ruin her plans! “Well, you go on back home if you need to, but I came to exercise.”
Hilary climbed shakily onto her bike again looking chastened. “I’m sorry, but I really am sick.”
“I know. It’s fine. I’ll soldier on alone, as usual.” Ruby began to pedal away.
“Stop by when you’re finished,” Hilary called after her.
Ruby waved her hand without looking back. Of course, she’d stop by. Her car was still at Hilary’s house. She turned a corner and struck out for Sean’s parent’s house, pedaling fast now. If he was outside, she could still use the bike riding with a friend story. It would be the truth and would help explain why she was riding her bike in his neighborhood when she lived miles away.
As she rode, Sean’s car turned onto the street she was on and started towards her. She couldn’t believe it. Here was her chance!
She waved at him as he got closer, trying to get his attention, but he didn’t stop. As he passed, she glimpsed his profile and caught her breath. He was looking down and eating something and he hadn’t noticed her. She could follow him.
She whipped her bike around and watched him turn right at a stop sign and drive out of sight. She put her head down and pedaled furiously, glad that Hilary wasn’t here to hold her back. She blew the stop sign at the corner, and there he was, a few blocks ahead. Good.
She followed him as fast as she could, but though they were going slightly downhill—and he stopped at every stop sign and she blew them all—he managed to creep farther and farther ahead. She hoped he wasn’t headed for the highway. What she needed was a stoplight. Stupid one stoplight town!
Finally, he parked his car on the street four blocks ahead, got out, and went inside a shop.
She considered hailing him before he’d disappeared inside but thought better of it. Why let him know she’d followed him? It was much better to let him think they met by chance.
She pedaled like mad. When she finally reached his car, she had to lean over to catch her breath. She stood up and tried to force herself to breathe slowly, but she couldn’t seem to stop panting. She took off her helmet and wiped the hot sweat off her brow. Her hair was sweaty, and she ran her hands through it quickly, glad it was really too short to mess up. …She hoped.
She locked up her bike, noticing how fast her heart was beating.
Sean had gone into an offbeat little shop called Magenta’s, which sold bongs and candles and other hippie-dippy merchandise. Probably sold pot as well, nowadays. She attached her helmet to her bike, hoping it wouldn’t be stolen, but preferring that to walking inside carrying it.
She forced herself to slow down and look unconcerned as she pushed the door open and went inside. The shop had lavender walls and bright green trim, and it was stuffed to the gills with merchandise. It smelled heavily of incense, and Sean was the only other customer inside. When the bell on the door announced her presence, Sean looked up at her briefly before he went back to reading the box he held.
Her smile froze on her face. Didn’t he recognize her? No. It was fine. After all, she’d followed him here, but he wasn’t expecting to see her. And it had been six years. He was at a disadvantage.
She straightened her baby blue T-shirt, wishing she’d chosen something slinkier for her bike ride with Hilary—though the blue did exactly match her eyes, and these bike shorts had hidden panels that slimmed her waist and lifted her butt, which is why she’d worn them—and sauntered sexily past him to the scented candles. She darted a quick look around. The bored clerk sat behind the counter flipping through a magazine and paying them no mind.
She picked up two candles at random, pretending to read the ingredients as she moved into the bath oil aisle with Sean. She stopped about four feet away. This was the closest she’d been to him in six years. Suddenly, she smelled a familiar, intoxicating scent.
Instantly, she was back in art class nine years ago. All her senses came alert as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Delicious. He smelled delicious. How could she have forgotten this? It all came back to her now. He’d always smelled the same. She hadn’t known if it was cologne, aftershave, shampoo, or soap, and she hadn’t known him well enough to ask him before.
He moved down the aisle, picking things up and setting them down, and she moved after him in perfect step. She gazed over the top of a candle and drank him in. Her breathing quickened. She felt her face flush.
He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved yellow T-shirt, and he held lavender bath oil in one hand and bubble bath in the other. She stared at his long-fingered—and ringless!—delicate hands, then licked her lips and met his gaze as he watched her watching him with a sort of a, “Can I help you?” expression on his perfect face.
All her plans fled her mind and she looked down, ready to bolt. He wouldn’t remember her. She was about to make a fool of herself.
No. You are going to do this! She forced herself to look up again, ready with a dazzling smile when he recognized her…and he was gone! She looked wildly around and saw him hurrying towards the checkout counter.
Shit! She took off after him and caught him at the edge of the bongs. She grabbed his arm and spun him around harder than she’d meant to, and he stumbled and knocked an expensive, silver Hookah off the shelf. He lunged and caught it before it hit the floor.
Ruby could feel her face flush a deep red as she heard herself say, “Sean—hi!” in an unnaturally high voice. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Sorry about that, but I just couldn’t believe it was you after all these years!”
He flashed her a vague smile, set the Hookah carefully back on the shelf before looking pointedly down at his arm where she still clutched him. She pulled her hand back like he’d burned her.
“Hi…how have you been?” he said. He still had the vague look on his face, and she knew that he didn’t know who she was, and he was too nice of a guy to admit it. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen! He was supposed to recognize her immediately. He was supposed to have spent the past nine years pining away after her like she had with him.
His eyes were wide, his smile strained. Her name was just not ringing any bells here. It was her worst nightmare, and she felt tears spring to her eyes as her face burned with humiliation. She wanted to curl up into a ball and die. Instead, she reminded him, “We became friends in a beginning painting class at Gibson State nine years ago…?”
He cocked his head and stared at her. Finally, he put a hand up by his head. “Didn’t your hair used to be—”
“Longer?” He did remember her!
“Fluffier?” he gestured around his head.
She swallowed hard. “That too. I just got sick of all that big hair.”
“I think I like it better this way,” he said, and she relaxed and smiled back at him. There was a small silence. “So…how have you been? It’s been a long time,” he said.
“Too long! I’ve been fine. Great! How about you?”
“Actually, I’m a little tired. I stayed up late last night.”
“Really?” she said, and his eyes shifted away. You’re boring him! Think of something to say before he leaves! Don’t you blow this chance! “So. You were a…math major, right?” she said. As if she could ever have forgotten this detail.
His eyes lit up. “I can’t believe you remembered that. In fact, I’m a substitute teacher for the Kamata and Calua city school systems, and I love it. What do you do?”
A substitute teacher? He had a master’s degree! “I’m a syndicated cartoonist.” She couldn’t hide her proud smile. She loved telling people that, but she hardly ever got to. Very few people ever asked her what she did.
She could almost see his mind racing. “…Famous?”
“No,” she admitted. “It’s called ‘Left of Center’…?”
“I don’t think I’ve read it.”
“Well, you wouldn’t have. It’s not in any local papers,” she said. “But it’s online.”
“I’ll have to look it up.” He grinned his old grin at her. “Lucky. That’s such a cool job.”