by Bria Marche
“I wouldn’t have any furniture to move since the rooms here are furnished. All I have to bring with me are my clothes and personal belongings. I could start by the weekend.”
“What will you do after five months? Won’t your folks have your side of the duplex rented out?”
“That’s my hope. They could use the extra money, and I’d get a lot more business if I lived in Charleston. It’s all good. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. So… I’ll talk to you soon.” He jammed his hands deep into the pockets of his already tight-fitting, worn-in-the-perfect-places Levi’s and left. He looked back as he crossed through the gate. “Thanks for the tea.”
Chapter Ten
“Betsy, what the hell do I do now?” Abby squealed as she lunged through the door to Betsy’s room and jumped on her bed. The bedsprings sang out their squeaky twang as she bounced a few times, trying to make herself comfortable.
“Geez, take it down a notch. What’s wrong?” Betsy gathered the remaining Cheetos that flew out of the bowl when Abby leaped on the bed.
“Are you holding out on me? Where did those Cheetos come from?”
“I was starving. Remember, we haven’t had lunch yet. Come on. Let’s go downstairs and eat. You can tell me what’s going on while I unwrap our sandwiches.”
Betsy trotted off to the kitchen, Abby taking up the rear and talking a mile a minute. “Erik wants to move in here.”
“You’re on a first-name basis already? Damn it, girl. You don’t waste any time.” Betsy placed two plates on the kitchen table with chargers underneath each one. She handed Abby a linen napkin.
“It’s peanut butter and jelly for Pete’s sake. I’ll eat it on a paper plate.”
“No you won’t. They cost money. So why does Erik want to move in here, besides the obvious reasons?”
“He wants to barter services with me.”
“I’ll bet he does. Did you really just say that?” Betsy burst out laughing at Abby’s accidental innuendo.
“Yes… I mean… no. Okay… breathe. His quote for the painting and water heater was five thousand dollars, which I totally don’t have. We need to get these rooms rented out as soon as possible, so he volunteered to live here rent-free in exchange for the painting and the water heater. I won’t charge him rent, and he won’t charge for the work I want him to do. It’s perfect. He said he’d take one of the small bedrooms. I’d rent it out anyway, but now I don’t have to come up with five thousand bucks in advance to get the rooms ready. He’ll have them done in no time if he’s living here. Plus, he’s only staying for five months, unless he wants to renew the lease terms as an actual tenant. I guess I’ll have to check his credit report and make sure he isn’t a felon, but I think it’s a great idea, don’t you?”
“Um… yeah, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s single and hot. He is Scandinavian, after all. You did notice that curly blond hair, green eyes, and gorgeous smile, didn’t you? Who wouldn’t want someone like that in a bedroom right down the hall? We might even see him coming out of the bathroom after a shower. Accidents do happen, you know.”
“Right, but I’m starting things out with a lie. That doesn’t feel good to me. He doesn’t know I actually own the house.”
“Yeah, that was your intention, remember? You want people to like you for you, not your money, which, by the way, you don’t have any.”
“True,” Abby said as she was about to gobble down her sandwich. “Man, you make good peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Anyway, I have to tell him the owners agreed to his terms. Let’s see how things play out.”
“I wouldn’t actually call that a lie, Abby. You are the owner, and you’re agreeing to his terms.”
***
Not wanting to seem overly anxious, Abby waited two days before calling Erik back. She had to get the quote from Jose anyway before she could tell him she went with a different handyman. Finally mustering up her courage, she pulled the business card out of her pocket and called Erik Christiansen.
“Hello, Abby. I was looking forward to your call. I hope there’s good news.”
Flustered that he had already programmed her cell number into his phone, Abby was taken aback that he addressed her personally. “Oh, hi, Erik. I guess your calling me by name surprised me.”
“Sorry, you are a potential customer. I program everyone’s name into my phone so I don’t misplace their contact info. Actually, I asked if this was the best number to reach you at. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh… no, of course not, I just forgot, that’s all.” Embarrassment covered her neck and cheeks with a bright red glow. Good thing he can’t see me. “I spoke with the owners, and they agreed to your terms. You can move in whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m glad to hear that. This is going to work out fine for everyone.”
Yeah, especially me. “You can pick out any of the three smaller rooms for yourself since none of them are spoken for yet. If you painted your own room first, you could get settled in while you work on the others.”
“That’s a smart idea. I’ll order the paint and water heater today. It will only take me a day to gather everything of my own to bring over. How about Saturday? Will that work for you?”
“Saturday sounds fine. I’ll see you then.” Abby found Betsy in the backyard, going through the colorful annuals Meyer’s Nursery had just delivered. “Betsy, do you have a minute?”
“Sure. Excuse me, Mr. Meyer. I’ll be right back.” Betsy followed Abby into the kitchen. “What’s up?”
“We don’t have money to spend on flowers. What is Mr. Meyer doing here?”
“It’s okay. These are the flowers your mom ordered a few weeks ago. They’re already paid for. I was going to talk to you about them anyway. Either we can plant them ourselves or pay extra to have the nursery do it.”
“How much extra would it cost?” Abby chewed on her cuticles as she waited for Betsy to ask Mr. Meyer what the additional cost would be.
“He said it would be an extra hundred bucks. We can do it ourselves, right? It isn’t like we have renters to interview yet.”
“Yeah, we can have them all planted in a few days. We just need to buy some gardening gloves and a few spades. Tell him thanks, but we’ve got it covered. By the way, Erik is moving in Saturday.”
“No wonder you’re so jacked up,” Betsy said, smiling as she walked away.
Abby spent an hour after lunch going through the monthly bills. Everything was about to come due again since it had been nearly a month since Charlotte’s death. “This is ridiculous, Betsy. I’m sick of penny-pinching, and it’s only been a few weeks. I have to call Attorney Lewis and see what’s going on with the lawsuit.”
“I could look for a job. Every little bit helps, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does, but I’m going to need you here once the rooms are rented. We’ll have laundry, cleaning, and cooking to take care of. That’s probably too much work for one person, so I intend to help out. If we can get through one more month, I think we’ll be okay. Hopefully, we’ll get all the rooms rented out right away. As soon as Erik has one small room and one large room painted, I’m going to start advertising. But right now, I’m making that call.”
Abby retreated to the library where she could sit at the desk and take notes. She dialed the phone number, hoping Attorney Lewis was in. The receptionist, Adrianne, answered on the third ring.
“Good afternoon, Lewis Law Office. How may I direct your call?”
“Adrianne, Abby Melrose calling. Is Attorney Lewis available?”
“Hello, Abby, I’m sorry, but he isn’t. He’s away for six weeks on a personal sabbatical.”
“What in the world does that mean?” Abby felt like cursing, but she bit her knuckles to help maintain control over the escalating anger.
“He’s having liposuction, but you didn’t hear that from me. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Not unless you’re taking over his duties as an attorney. I need to know what’s going on with th
e lawsuit he started against City Waste and Recycling.”
“What’s the best number I can reach you at? I’ll look through your files and see if there’s anything I can find.”
“You can reach me at the number on your caller ID. I’ll be expecting to hear back from you by tomorrow.” Abby slammed down the house phone on the desk. “The only good thing about home phones is you can actually slam down the receiver. Damn it.”
Abby fumed while staring at the desk calendar, wondering what to do next. The bright red circle around tomorrow’s date caught her attention. “That’s right, tomorrow at ten a.m. is the appointment for my name change. At least something will go right… I hope.” She replayed the message she had saved from the clerk of court and wrote down everything she was instructed to bring to the courthouse. She gathered her birth certificate, her expired driver’s license, and her Social Security card and put them in her purse. After court, she would stop at the Social Security office and then go to the DMV to renew her license.
***
“Doesn’t pasta make you fat?” Melanie asked as she shoved another fork full of spaghetti into her wide-open mouth.
“You look like a baby bird waiting for its mother to jam worms down its throat,” Abby said, laughing at the look on Mel’s face. “Worms and spaghetti, get it? They’re kind of the same thing.”
“Thanks, Abs. I think I just lost my appetite with that image.”
“Then you don’t have to worry about getting fat. Anyway, yes, carbs will make you fat if you don’t do any type of exercise, but we’ll get plenty this weekend planting all those flowers outside.”
“We’re planting all of those flowers? There’s, like, thousands of them.”
“Actually, I have the invoice here, and there’s precisely two hundred, but that’s the same as thousands in my book,” Betsy said, correcting her.
“I’ll have to take you to work in the morning, Mel. Tomorrow is the big day. By dinnertime tomorrow, you can both address me as Miss Abigail Taylor. Cool, huh? No more Melrose, no more Bellavance. I’ll have my own name and my own identity… finally.”
Betsy jumped up from the table and ran downstairs.
“What is she doing?” Mel asked.
“No clue.”
Betsy returned, huffing but wearing a grin on her face. “We’ll have to celebrate. There’s plenty of champagne in the basement.”
Chapter Eleven
“Good luck, Abs. I hope there aren’t any glitches with the name change. I’ll see you at five.”
Abby was in high spirits. Today would be Day One of the rest of her life. A new name and a new lifestyle made her nervous, but it was exciting, too. “Bring it on,” she mumbled as she drove back home. With two hours to kill, she’d enjoy a leisurely breakfast with Betsy, then shower and dress nicely for the appearance in front of the judge.
Living on South Battery had its advantages. There wasn’t much in downtown Charleston that was more than a ten-minute drive away. With the courthouse located on Broad Street, Abby had a five-minute drive, but parking was always an issue. Leaving the house at nine thirty would give her plenty of time.
Abby and Betsy sat in the morning room having scrambled eggs and toast, facing the beautiful park across the street. “Are you nervous, Abby?”
“Kind of, but it’s probably because I don’t know what to expect. You can tag along if you want to.”
“Really?”
“Sure, why not? That way I won’t have to hang out by myself all day. I know it takes forever to get through the DMV.”
“Okay, cool. I’ll be ready in a half hour.” Betsy stacked the dishes, wiped off the table, and loaded the breakfast plates into the dishwasher.
“Betsy?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Do you miss my mom?”
Betsy turned around to face Abby, drying her hands in the process. Tears filled her eyes. “What brought that on? Your mom and I had a much different relationship than you and I do.”
“I know that, but you just teared up when I asked you. You must have cared about her after fifteen years of service.”
“I cared for your mom and was as faithful to her as any employee could be. She was kind to me, but we didn’t have a personal relationship, like friends. She was my employer, and I was her employee. You must remember some of it, don’t you?”
“Yeah… I do. I hope she never treated you badly. Please, don’t ever feel like you’re a servant here. You’re one of my dearest friends. I’m so thankful for you. I was just remembering some of the fun times with my mom years ago. I guess I was hoping you had some memorable times with her, too. I’m sorry I’m being nostalgic, probably because I’m giving up the Melrose name like it never meant anything to me.”
“That isn’t true, Abby. You’re just protecting yourself from predators like Remy. You have every right to be cautious with people. Your mom would understand that. Okay, I’m going upstairs to get ready. You have a judge and a new name waiting for you.”
***
They found street parking only a block away from the courthouse. So far, so good, Abby thought as she parallel parked Melanie’s Camry. She and Betsy entered the red brick building with the massive columns. The courtroom they were supposed to be in was on the second floor. They walked up the staircase with the beautiful cherry wood handrail and entered courtroom 2C. The room was small, with only five rows of seats on either side of the aisle that led to the judge’s bench. Abby and Betsy took a seat in the gallery and waited for Abby’s name to be called. The antique pendulum wall clock facing them showed it was nine forty-seven.
“Abby, I have to pee. I’ll be right back,” Betsy whispered.
“Okay, I’m not going anywhere.” Abby waited, nervously wringing her hands and hoping for a speedy session without any hiccups. She had brought all the documents she needed and checked inside her purse for the fifth time.
“Abigail Melrose Bellavance,” Judge Ann Simons called out, “approach and state your intentions.”
Abby rose and walked to the plaintiff’s table. “My name is Abigail Bellavance, and I’m here to change my last name, Your Honor.”
“Have you committed any criminal acts to hide your identity, or do you intend to impersonate somebody else?”
“No, Your Honor.”
Betsy slipped back into the gallery while Abby answered the judge’s questions.
“Why do you want to change your last name, Miss Bellavance?”
“Your Honor, I don’t want to be associated with my husband, who has conveniently gone missing after stealing all my money, and I no longer want to be associated with my maiden name either. I would like to have a last name that is actually of my own choosing.”
“And that is?”
“Taylor. A simple name, not related to anyone I know, Your Honor.”
“Granted. Go downstairs and file your new name with the county clerk. Next case.”
The judge hit the gavel against the block, and it was over. Abby turned around with a smile to see Betsy giving her the thumbs-up.
“That was it? Easy peasy, right? It’s over. Now you’re Abby Taylor. Do you feel any different?”
“It’s only been three seconds.” Abby laughed as they linked arms and walked down the staircase to the county clerk’s office to file the papers.
“How many copies do you need, ma’am?” the clerk asked.
“I have no idea. Is there a typical amount people ask for?”
“Typically, I’d say ten copies, and we have to notarize them here. Carbon copies are not considered legal documents.”
“Okay then, I’ll take ten copies, too.”
“Step this way, ma’am. You have paperwork to sign.”
After lunch, they drove to the DMV to get Abby a new driver’s license. That alone took two hours. Getting a new Social Security card went much quicker.
At five o’clock, Abby and Betsy waited at the curb in front of Colette’s Closet fashion house. Melanie was still learning t
he tricks of the trade, but after working there for several years, she was on the fast track to becoming one of their best designers. She glanced out the third-floor window and saw her friends waiting across the street. “I’m outta here,” she told her colleagues. “The girls and I have some celebrating to do tonight. See you guys tomorrow.”
Melanie ran down three flights of stairs and out the front door. Many of the historic buildings didn’t have the room to install elevators or weren’t allowed to alter the buildings. Most people that worked downtown appreciated keeping the buildings as authentic-looking as possible and were used to taking the stairs.
“Hi, guys. So it’s all done? You don’t look any different,” she said, teasing Abby with her quick humor.
***
Luckily, Saturday was a perfect day, at least weather-wise. None of the girls had ever planted flowers in such quantities before. There were a few broken nails here and there, but at least they weren’t breaking a sweat. Abby heard a car door slam out front and walked around through the side gate to see if it was Erik. It was, and she blushed.
“Hi, Erik. Looks like moving day. Your van is really packed. I’d offer to help, but we’re pretty busy in the garden. Come on around. I don’t think you’ve met Melanie yet. She’s a good friend and our first paying tenant.”
Erik followed Abby around to the backyard garden. “Wow, it’s really gorgeous back here. Private, lush, and completely walled in. I like what you ladies are doing. Planting that many flowers is pretty ambitious.”
“Mrs. Melrose ordered all of them weeks ago, but…”
“But we offered to plant them for her,” Abby said, giving Betsy a “zip it” scowl.
“That’s nice of you. I’ve always loved flower gardens. So as tenants, are we excluded from certain areas?” Erik helped himself to a seat in the shade next to Melanie. “I’m Erik Christiansen, by the way.”
“I’m sorry, Erik. This is Melanie Davis, my dearest friend from childhood. You’ve met Betsy already. Betsy is the chief cook here, and my second in command. So if you don’t like the food…” Abby laughed, her eyes twinkling playfully. “Just kidding. Actually, Betsy’s a fabulous cook. Back to your question, yes, all common areas are open for everyone to enjoy. Give me a minute to wash up, then we’ll go upstairs, and you can choose your room.”
