Shadows of Memories (Baxter Academy)

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Shadows of Memories (Baxter Academy) Page 4

by Charles, Jane


  A shitty one!

  I told Nana that she couldn’t drive until we took care of her license and registration tag. We had an ugly argument, one similar to an adult trying to reason with a three-year-old having a tantrum that ended with me taking her keys.

  The driver’s license bureau was a nightmare. Nana couldn’t take the test because the computer flustered her. She didn’t know how to work it and then didn’t understand the test. Frustrated, she stomped out. No matter how many times I tried to explain, she still insisted on driving and nothing was going to keep her from getting behind the wheel so I had Dylan disable it. She couldn’t drive a car that didn’t start. Ever since, I’ve been taking her every place she needed to go, but she still asks when I’m going to get her car fixed. Dylan shows up, tinkers around under the hood, and then claims he can’t fix it. What I need to do is get the car out of there. Out of sight out of mind, right?

  “Why the heavy sighs?”

  I blink over at Cole. It’s rather rude of me not to be talking to him, but I have so much on my mind. Am I worrying for nothing? “It’s just been a long day. Hell, it’s been a long week.”

  “Do you want to go get a cup of coffee somewhere and talk?”

  He may sound genuine, but Cole has a reputation and I cannot let the sincerity in his dark eyes sway me. “I thought you had to be at work early.”

  “It’s only ten. I have a few hours before I need to get my beauty sleep.”

  I snort. As if he needs beauty sleep. Not with his chiseled features. Strong jaw, high cheekbones, firm lips. I look away. He’s the last person I should be attracted to. “I need to get home. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

  “I’m hoping mine is uneventful.” He grins.

  I assume uneventful means no calls. If I were a firefighter I’d hope for the same thing. “Do you wish for that every time you work?”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I love my job. But when I’m called out, it usually means something’s been destroyed and possibly someone’s hurt. All we can do is minimize the damage.”

  “So, what do you do at the firehouse all day if there are no calls?” I’ve never really thought about how firefighters spend their duty time. When you think about firefighters, they’re at fires or accidents, but what else do they do?

  “Work out, clean the station, wash the engines, check equipment, restock supplies, whatever needs to be done.” He shrugs.

  “There must be a lot of downtimes.”

  “There can be, but we usually fill it with something.”

  I guess it would be kind of like hanging out with friends all day.

  “Do you have any family in the area, besides your grandmother?” He asks, taking me surprise with the question and the change in subject.

  “No. It’s just the two of us.”

  He frowns. “That’s too bad.”

  I always wished I had a bigger family, now especially. What if I don’t make the right decisions for Nana? I wish I had someone to talk it over with, but I can’t think of anyone who would understand.

  I direct him down the street where I live. I’ve taken an apartment in an old Victorian house. There are several houses like this in town and most of them are the housing for employees of Baxter. I could have saved money and just moved back in with Nana when I was done with school, but I wanted a place of my own. I’d lived away from her since I went to college and this is the first time I didn’t have roommates. I didn’t want to have to go back to explaining my comings and goings to anyone. My lease is up in May and if Nana continues to deteriorate, I may be moving back in her after all.

  He switches the engine off and turns to me. “I’ll give you a ride back to Kian’s in the morning.”

  Did he think he was spending the night? “You aren’t coming in.”

  “I know.” Cole chuckles. “I pass this way when I go to work. It’s easy enough to swing by and drop you at Kian’s before I head to the fire house.”

  That would solve my problem about getting my car back, without having to spend money on a cab. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  He reaches over and puts his hand over mine. “It would be my pleasure.”

  My hand warms under his and there’s an odd tingling. I shouldn’t have had so much wine. I pull my hand out from under his and open the door. “Thank you. And, I’d appreciate the ride.”

  He grins. “I’ll be by at six-thirty, unless that’s too early.”

  “No. I’ll be ready.”

  I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the truck.

  “Drink lots of water and take an aspirin,” he says before I shut the door.

  He doesn’t pull away, but sits there as I walk to the door. I get my keys out and look back. He’s simply watching me. Did he think I’d have a change of heart and invite him in? The truck rumbles as it starts just as I’m stepping inside. He probably was hoping to come in because I can’t imagine him sitting there simply waiting to make sure I made it inside safely. That doesn’t fit with the Cole I have in my mind.

  What would Jenna like? Is she a café mocha, caramel macchiato or black coffee kind of girl?

  I just want a strong cup of coffee. It was a long night. I wasn’t able to get to sleep right away because I was thinking about Jenna, Dad, and Grandpa.

  As soon as I saw her at Baxter, I wanted to rectify the fact that I hadn’t gotten to know her before and thought the party would be the perfect opportunity. I had every intention of asking her out until I heard her talking with Mag. I still want to take her out, but she probably needs a friend more than a date. She’s alone, like my dad had been. If her grandmother’s suffering from dementia or Alzheimer’s, she’ll need a support system and I’m not sure who she’s close to. Not anyone at the house. At least not as far as I could tell. She barely participated in the conversations. Just like prom night.

  Was Jenna simply quiet? She and Dylan are still friends, but is that enough?

  I’m sure she has other friends, I just don’t know who they are and if they will be any help. Not that anyone really can. She’s going to need someone to lean on as time goes and I’d really like to be that person. We may never be more than friends, but I don’t want to see her go through this alone.

  “Have you made a decision?”

  Shit, I’m too preoccupied to even order a damn coffee. “Two black coffees. Tall.” Hopefully I’ll have a better idea what to order her next time. If there is a next time.

  Yes, there will be a next time.

  I leave with the coffees in a carrier because my truck’s too old to have cup holders in it, and drive to her house. I’m a bit early and turn off the engine. I’d go to the door, but I don’t know which apartment is hers. What if she overslept? Certainly there’s a buzzer outside the door with names on the plates. I get out of the truck and as I’m going up the walk she comes out the door.

  “Good morning.”

  “Thanks for giving me a lift.”

  “It’s no problem.” I walk with her to the truck and open her door and wait until she’s settled inside before shutting it and going around to the driver’s side.

  “I hope you take your coffee black.” I hand her one of the cups.

  Her eyes blink with surprise. “Yeah. Thank you.” She takes the cup from me and blows into the little hole in the lid. “You didn’t need to get me coffee.”

  “Have you had any yet?”

  “No. I was moving a little slower than usual this morning.”

  I take a drink from my cup before starting the truck up. “How’s your head?”

  She chuckles. “It aches a little. I deserve it. I shouldn’t have drunk so much.”

  “You weren’t exactly drunk.” Sure, she drank more than she should, but she still had enough sense to know she had no business driving. She was far from slurring her words or unable to walk a straight line.

  “I’m a two glass limit. Last night I had four, I think.”

  “You said it was a long week, right?” I pull onto the
street and head back toward Kian’s.

  “It’s going to be a long weekend too.”

  I don’t want to let on that I eavesdropped on her conversation with Mag last night. “What do you have going on?”

  I can feel her looking at me. For a minute I think she is going to tell me about her grandmother. “Just busy stuff with my grandmother and then work I brought home.”

  “All work and no play makes….How does that go?”

  She laughs quietly. “I can’t remember.”

  “Well, if you can’t remember, then you need to have more fun.”

  “I went out last night and all it got me was a headache this morning.” She groans.

  I glimpse at her out of the corner of my eye as she takes a sip of the coffee. “I don’t think you were having all that much fun.”

  “It was okay. My head wasn’t in party mode.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her out, but I already anticipate her reaction. Hell, she almost paid for a cab last night instead of letting me give her a lift. And, I don’t like rejection all that much. Not that anybody does.

  I pull the truck in front of Kian’s house and stop. She unbuckles her seatbelt and opens the door. “Thanks for the ride, and the coffee.”

  “It’s my pleasure.” I’m drawn to Jenna Ferguson for some strange reason. Each bit of time I spend with her, I just want more, even if she doesn’t seem to care if she ever sees me again. “Maybe we can get coffee together sometime.”

  She just shakes her head and chuckles. “I don’t think so.” With that she shuts the door and begins walking toward her car.

  “Damn!” She may be finished with me, but I’m not ready to give up just yet.

  Eight

  I start the engine of my car, turn on the defroster, and clutch the cup of hot coffee while the rest of my body shivers. I could scrape my windows instead of waiting for the ice to melt, but I don’t really want to get out of the car and I forgot my gloves. Besides, it’s too early to go see Nana now. She’s probably not even awake yet. Then again, if she’s asleep, I’ll be able to go through her garbage and grab the bills without her knowing. After the way she reacted last night I don’t anticipate her letting me get them today.

  It was sweet of Cole to bring me coffee and offer me a ride this morning. But, I know it isn’t out of the goodness of his heart. He has an ulterior motive, one that ends with him and me in bed. I had a few friends who spent a pleasant night with Cole back in college. I never asked for details, but their smiles the next day were a sure giveaway. And, they usually became Facebook friends with him afterward. Cole and I are not friends but I see his comments on posts and I was surprised when he popped up on their feeds. I mean, who friends someone after a one-night hook up? Unless they’re hoping for a repeat. Except, two of those friends are now engaged. Shouldn’t there be an unspoken rule that when a ring goes on the finger, past hookups are unfriended? If not, there should be.

  If I wasn’t aware of the type of guy he is, I could so easily slip back into crush mode. But, I do know and I’m better prepared to ignore him. I doubt that I’ll see him again anyway, unless I happen to run into him at Alexia and Kian’s. Besides, I don’t have time for any further complications in my life and guys definitely fall into the category of complications.

  The coffee is finally cool enough to drink instead of sip and I let it warm my insides as the ice begins to melt from my windshield. As soon as it’s soft enough to use the wipers to clear the glass, I pull away and drive one street over. There aren’t any lights on and I assume Nana is still asleep. Quietly I let myself into the house and go into the kitchen. Silence surrounds me and I try to minimize the noise. The first stop, after taking my coat off, is to get the garbage out from under the sinks.

  The trash can is empty. Just a liner and nothing else. What the hell had she done with the bills?

  I look into the taller can in the closet. That’s empty too. Where’s all of her garbage? She shouldn’t be taking it out herself. I do that on Saturday and take all if it to the curb on Tuesday night for morning pick up. She’s too told to be lugging it, especially in the winter.

  The garage is freezing and I hurry to the far end where the trash cans wait and lift the lid. There are a few bags but they’re full of real garbage, not paper. Nana could have thrown the bills in there, I’m just not certain I want to dig into the gunk for them. A few years ago she recycled and it would have been easier to find the bills, but she got tired of all the separating and kept confusing what went with what and decided it was a waste of time. I should have known then that something was up.

  If I think over the past few years, there have been a number of instances where things were off, but they were so minor and far between that I didn’t really put it all together. Taking a step back and looking at the past two years as a whole, I have to admit there were signs, obvious signs that Nana was slipping. Why hadn’t I put it all together while it was happening so that I could have done something sooner? Though, I’m not sure what I could have done except maybe take her to the doctor.

  I put the lid on and go back into the house. Grandpa had an office off the living room. Originally it was a large, screened in porch but he wanted an office.

  I haven’t been in here in a long time and it doesn’t look like Nana’s cleaned in here in months. There are sticky notes all over the edge of her computer screen with her passwords and so much dust that she probably hasn’t turned the computer on in ages. A key is sitting next to the keyboard. It looks like the ones for the bedroom doors. Nana had Dylan replace all the knobs with ones that locked about two years ago. I thought it was odd, but she didn’t like the idea of anyone being able to go into any room. It isn’t like she gets that many visitors, but if it made her feel better, what the heck. Now I’m wondering if there’s a reason she wants doors locked and I slide the key into a back pocket before opening the drawers to the desk.

  Damn these are heavy. She still uses Grandpa’s fireproof desk. It may look like a regular wooden desk on the outside, but the inside is like a file cabinet, all sealed tight. Nana has always kept her important papers in here, along with her bills, but there are no bills. Nothing! She used to keep them in file folders to be paid weekly. The folders are there, but there isn’t anything that needs to be paid.

  Her checkbook isn’t in here either, but I know she keeps that in her purse. Nana may have a debit card, but she only uses that to get money out of the ATM. She’s never accepted the idea of using it at the store, or anywhere else. She insists on writing a check for everything and that’s one of the reasons we still frequent the store she likes. They know her and take her checks.

  In a second drawer are her bank statements, which I grab and start going through. The last four months are missing. Has she thrown those away too? I need them to know if she’s paid anything recently.

  The final drawer is where I find a copy of her Last Will and Testament and the original Power of Attorney along with insurance papers and all kinds of important looking documents. My hands shake a bit as I read over the Power of Attorney. All I have to do is present this to her doctor, bank and anywhere else, and I get control over everything. My stomach churns and my chest tightens. I hate having to do this, but with what I’m seeing, I have to do something.

  I fold up the Power of Attorney and take it to the kitchen and shove it in my purse.

  On the shelf with some cookbooks are envelopes. More mail? If I’m going to be nosey, I might as well check everything out.

  They’re the missing bank statements and she’s circled the balances in red pencil. “Why?”

  Her pension and Social Security checks are deposited regularly, but there’s been a drop in the amount of checks she written. It’s as if she just decided to stop paying bills. She hasn’t paid the electric or gas bill in the past two months. She’s lucky they haven’t disconnected her power yet. I put them in my purse along with the Power of Attorney and glance at the clock. It isn’t even eight in the
morning yet. Nana used to be an earlier riser, but apparently that has changed over the years too.

  Tiptoeing up the stairs I stick my head in the bedroom that used to be mine. The canopy bed with the frilly bedspread is still in place but the room hasn’t been dusted in a long time. I glance in Nana’s room quickly. She’s sound asleep, so I go to the spare bedroom, opposite of mine. It’s locked so I pull the key out of my back pocket and open the door. All I can do is stand there and stare. The room is full of boxes and bags and all manner of things that probably should be thrown out. It also smells musty and old, like a rarely used attic. It’s as if Nana has started hoarding, but only in this room. A garbage bag is just inside the door, just like the one she uses for the kitchen cans. Inside are the bills I discovered last night. I grab them and glance around again, overwhelmed by the amount of junk in this room. It practically goes to the ceiling. What else is she hiding?

  Dylan’s yawning as he pulls into the parking spot next to mine and we start walking to the firehouse for another twenty-four hour shift. “How long did you stay last night?”

  “I went to bed around eleven, but didn’t leave Kian’s until five-thirty.”

  Kian’s house is huge. It’s really his mom’s, but she’s living in New York City so she can be close to the hospital where she works. And since his siblings are off at college and one in the Army, there’s plenty of room for us to crash if we want.

  “How late did everyone stay?”

  Dylan shrugs. “No idea. There was a darts tournament going on when I went upstairs.”

  More firefighters were pulling into the parking lot as we enter the building and the shift before ours is packing up, ready to head out.

 

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