by Allie York
The next blow came when my sister called four times that week, but I couldn’t answer. Then I got a call from an attorney. Carmen never left a message, but the attorney did and I called him back promptly. I had to let the man know he was mistaken.
“Yes, Miss Wolfe, I’m Garret Boroughs. I am handling your mother’s estate.” The man on the other end had to be mistaken.
“My mother was a drug addict with multiple evictions and a repo’d car. There was no estate. You must be confused.” I had to sit on the edge of the day bed in my room at Rae’s.
“No, I can assure you I am not mistaken. Your mother inherited a sizable sum of money when her parents passed away and immediately set up a trust fund for you. You were to gain access to it once you turned twenty-one, but I assume you were never notified?” I answered with an “uh-uh”, and he went on. “Sometimes things slip through the cracks, but her death brought this to light and I want to send this information to you. Is there a fax number you can give me? I can overnight it if that is better?” I was silent for a moment, trying to wrap my head around what he was saying. I stood and started pacing. Estate? Grandparents? Trust? I had never even seen pictures of grandparents and certainly would have used trust money on my move or to pay the rent.
“How much is this trust fund?” I started searching for Jovie’s card with the fax number on it. Who still uses a fax? I rattled the number off and listened while he scratched it down. It was the only fax I knew, otherwise Mr. Boroughs would be mailing the papers.
“After taxes and such, almost five million.” I missed the bed entirely and sat flat on my ass on the floor. I never met my grandparents; Carmen hadn’t either as far as I knew. They disowned our mother when she got pregnant with my sister at sixteen, or that was the story we were told, and they never met us. “So, I’ll fax this first thing in the morning and you call me as soon as you receive it. Thank you for your time, Miss Wolfe.” The line went dead, and I sat completely baffled in the floor. Five million dollars.
Chapter Four
Briggs
I watched the woman across from me check her lipstick for the fifth time since the meeting started. I hated to break it to her, but it was still the same shade of red that it was fifteen seconds before, and no amount of mirror checks would change it. She adjusted her shirt and leaned in to argue her point further. Beck was eating it up, but he wasn’t the one making decisions. The one making decisions was gay, so the woman was wasting her time. Aside from Nick, myself, and the boss, the men were salivating like dogs. She was pretty, but I didn’t stand a chance with her, nor did I want one, so there was no point. Miss Clevenger had already honed in on Beck anyway. They always did. It was like he gave off some smell or had a beacon that attracted women to him. The negotiations went on a while longer, but I had said my peace about the lighting on the building Miss Clevenger was trying to flip. I turned through the pages from the last week in my notebook and tried to convince myself that what I was doing wasn’t completely insane. It was pointless. I was crazy.
Day six: Gym, shower, bus. Gym, shower, bus. My car was done yesterday, but I’m still going through the same routine and I am slowly going more insane. My day revolves around sitting back here and just watching her. Sometimes the book she’s reading makes her laugh and her nose wrinkles just slightly. It’s the cutest thing. Sometimes it makes her cry or gasp. She is completely immersed in anything she reads. I wish I felt anything that deeply. Hell, it would be nice to enjoy anything at all. I’ve decided I need to know how much younger she is than me. There is no way she’s even thirty. Her skin is too vibrant, so radiant. Her clothes always look like she stepped out of a Woodstock photo, but not in a dirty hippie way. More in a woodland goddess kind of way. Fuck. I am a sick bastard. It’s easier this way though, she can’t reject me. Granted, I can’t touch her either. And I really want to touch her.
* * *
Day seven: I think the bus driver is on to my game and he seems to be pretty protective of my girl. My girl, what a fucking joke. She can’t be my girl because she has no idea I even exist. As soon as she gets on, he watches me in the mirror. I’d put money on him stopping me if I tried to follow her by the way he looks at me. The driver has no way to know that while I may be a little unstable, I would never hurt her. Hell, I can’t even talk to her. I could, I suppose. But it would be pointless. I’m too damaged for that. An older woman sat next to her today and she smiled, chatting with the woman like they were instantly friends.
I snapped out of my head when the room started to break up. They must have come to some agreement while I was lost to my thoughts. I had to talk to my mystery girl before I slipped further into insanity. I had to walk up and just introduce myself. Otherwise, my issue was going to get worse. I obviously couldn’t tell her I was watching her—that confession would have me in police custody really fast. It didn’t matter that I was admiring her, I looked like a psycho stalker.
Chapter Five
Harriet
The only way the morning could have been worse is if it were raining. Sunshine, clear skies, and the new necklace around my neck should have made it a great day. After forgetting my purse, then my keys, then my book that had my list in it, and then having to go back to lock my door, I was late, again. My tardiness and the giant bruise on my shin made the whole morning go to crap. Morticia tripped me and my whole shin slid down the bedframe before my knee crashed into the floor. I had inadvertently racked up some bad karma again, obviously. Maybe it was my indecision about the money. Just a few days before, five million dollars had been divided between several savings accounts and other accounts I didn’t fully understand, but wherever it was, I held the title of millionaire. The financial advisor the attorney Mr. Boroughs found for me helped guide me through it, but the shock and the complexity of it all had me lost. I knew a good chunk would be donated and maybe my bad karma was trying to push that along. It was my only wrongdoing—well, not donating it yet and not calling my sister. Carmen had stopped calling every day, but I still got a few in a week. If she left a message, I would be more inclined to call back, but it always rang a few times and then she hung up.
I ran, rather awkwardly, to the bus stop, immediately regretting my shoe choice. When I saw the bus hadn’t pulled off yet, I pumped my legs harder, grabbing the handle and swinging myself up the stairs. Sal greeted me with his usual grunt as I pulled my card out and swiped it before taking my seat right behind him. Once I sat and sighed, I realized I had forgotten to feed the damn cat. I opened my newest book to where I tucked the note to myself and fell into the sci-fi world of Wool. It took my mind off everything for just a few minutes. I quit paying attention to the people getting on and off the bus, no one ever bothered me, and I sat right behind Sal for a reason. Plus, the area was far safer than some of the places I had been. The bruise on my shin was a lovely shade of purple by the time my stop came around. Stupid cat and stupid bed frame. No, one unfortunate morning did not mean anyone or anything was bad, especially my sweet Morticia. I made a mental note to wake myself earlier the following morning, then I wrote it down. Mental notes were no good to me. If I had gotten up on time, I wouldn’t have been rushing, and wouldn’t have tripped over the hungry cat. And I would have been up on time if I wasn’t up late reading.
I tossed my book in my new bag and started to stand as we approached my stop. My foot landed on something and nearly slid out from under me, but I saved myself on a bar. I plucked up the black, hand-sized notebook and looked at the sparse group still sitting on the bus. Everyone was immersed in a smartphone or tablet, so I added the notebook to my bag and went on my way. It must have been dropped by the group that got off before me, so I could return it next time.
The bus let out half a block from job number one for the day, right in front of The Brew. It was one of the only thriving local coffee shops and the atmosphere was just my speed. It even had a room full of pod hammocks for sipping coffee and in my case, reading. I picked up my usual order that Mitch memorized for
me. Iced vanilla latte for Erica, caramel latte for me and Cori, and a decaf hazel latte for Jovie. Mitch waved at me as I left and I nearly dropped my drink tray as I waved back. “Klutz” was my new middle name. I got to The Dog House about an hour before the owners did to return phone calls and get some general cleaning done. In exchange, I made a little extra money and made some kickass friends. I would have done it for free just to play with puppies, but Jovie insisted on paying me. The first day I walked in, I knew Jovie and I would click. There was an instant pull. She had the most frazzled look on her face with a baby strapped to her back, another asleep in a swing, and a phone in her hand. Her sister was there with her husband, fighting with some plumbing issue and they all looked stressed. They immediately took me in like family. I wasn’t looking for a job, I was just helping, but she offered me one as soon as I stepped behind the counter without an invitation and took the phone from her to book the appointment. I loved her kids, loved her husband, and in two weeks had learned my way around the full-service pet empire she was running with Erica. It took a few more days to connect with Cori and Erica, but it finally happened and I loved them both, especially Cori.
I went over my list, making sure not to forget anything. Phone calls: Done; boarding dogs: Done; dishes: Done; laundry folded all before I heard the doorbell and Jovie strolled in baby-free.
“It’s me! How is my favorite millionaire?” she called. Jovie and Nick helped me research my grandparents. Violet and Frank Wolfe owned Wolfe and Wolfe, Inc. that was bought out by Parnell International for millions before my grandparents were killed in a car accident. I was even listed on several news sites and in the obituary. It almost made me sad that I never knew them.
“Coffee has your name and is caffeine free.” Jovie really needed the caffeine, but her sweet little babies were still breastfeeding, and caffeine was not what they needed. I dried my hands and made my way down the hall. “I’m done but have like twenty minutes before I have to go across the street. How are my babies? Still need me tomorrow?” Her three dogs assaulted me as I rounded the corner. Clark was the worst, but he was so sweet and dumb. Merlin was more laid back, taking the affection in stride and rubbing against my legs.
“You sure you don’t mind? The girls are teething, and I don’t want to overwhelm you.” Her words and her face were completely opposite. The pleading in her eyes was unmistakable. She and her hunky husband hadn’t been out since the twins came along and it was the least I could do for her. Her friendship alone was worth a night of babysitting. Plus, my karma seemed off, and I loved babies. They had taken me under their wings immediately when I waltzed into her shop and asserted myself. The whole family was beautiful. Her mother sent me food on a regular basis and Jovie’s Grams was one of my favorite people, especially when she started talking about men.
“I am really excited about it. You two need some time. Amelia will be gone and the girls will be in good hands. Go get debaucherous and have a blast.” I knew she wanted to go, needed to go. Jovie climbed on the table next to me and patted my leg. I assured her again that I could handle Ruby and Norah with no issues if she left me instructions, teething or not, and I promised to update her with pictures every hour they were gone. I even wrote a reminder to text her during her date. Erica and Cori came in, and I knew it was time to get my ass across the street to hang with some dead people.
“What’s this? You use these too?” Jovie was holding up the notebook I found and I shook my head, swallowing my coffee. She had a habit of digging through my bag for gum. “Ewan buys these, won’t use any other notebooks. They’re expensive.” I was lucky to remember to write my lists on scraps of paper. To be honest, I had already forgotten the notebook all together.
“Found it on the bus. Someone must have dropped it; I’ll return it tomorrow.” I shrugged, remembering to flip through it to find an owner. The black cover was stamped “Field Notes” and the silver writing was continued inside with a place to write a name and contact information, but it was blank. Only the first few pages were written on, so I read them. The block handwriting was neat and bold, probably a guy since women tend to be more flowery.
Day 14: Today marks two weeks that I have been too damn scared to approach her. Two weeks that I have been completely intimidated by her sweet face and mesmerizing eyes. Two weeks that I have failed to accomplish anything other than thinking about her. Fear of rejection perhaps? Not perhaps, for sure. She is anything but ‘my type’ and I am all but hers. Women who wear flowing skirts and ankle bracelets don’t date men in suits, or in button downs. It started with my car being in the shop and here I am two weeks later still riding the bus just to stare at her. People give me shit, but I just swear I’m saving the planet. The rest of my day will be spent obsessing over the ‘H’ on her bag. First initial? Last initial?
My stomach clenched after I read the first page and I looked at the bag my sister sent me from some place she had traveled recently. Carmen was desperately trying to get my attention to the point she was sending me gifts. The giant green script “H” on it stood out against the gray canvas. Then I looked at the page again. What the hell?
Day 15: I admit the woman has eclectic reading tastes. She has gone from Bronte to Ian Flemming to Nicholas Sparks to Sylvia Day. Then again everything about her seems eclectic. She also reads really fast, and I can barely keep up. The black tank top and full tie-dyed skirt let me study her tattoo a little more, the birds on her shoulder morph into flowers down to her elbow. It’s beautiful, she’s beautiful. Once she took off the giant brown sweater, I was able to get a really good look at her, and now I may have fallen even harder. But, alas, I will walk past her yet again to disembark without a word. Not a single word. Oh, wait, I know a word. Coward. Great fucking word.
The man was watching me. The Universe had to pick one day to really mess with me instead of spreading it out. There was a person I had been riding the bus with for two weeks, watching me, and I hadn’t even noticed. I turned to Jovie. “Listen to this.”
Day 16: ‘Mermaids Smoke Seaweed’ where the hell does she work that allows her wardrobe? I appreciate it, love it even, but it’s not business appropriate. Anne Rice is on the reading menu, but it’s not one of the vampire books. She looks like the type that would have a hammock in her house to read in while she sips hot tea and burns incense. Even just watching her I can tell she is so much more than I am. She is vibrant and unique on a bus full of boring. A reader in a world of smart phones. A splash of color in a gray existence. I wonder if that golden glow to her skin is natural or a tan, or if her voice is as sweet as I imagine.
Jovie, Cori, and Erica stared wide-eyed at me. “He’s watching you.” I nodded. “Are you freaked out?” Jovie touched my shoulder lightly, trying to be comforting. I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it, unsure of the answer. “It seems innocent, like a school-boy crush, but it’s also a little creepy.” She added. I was vaguely reminiscent of the incident in the bus station a few weeks back, but I had no reason to think the two were linked. The man writing about me seemed smitten, not scary.
“I’m not creeped out. I’m kinda flattered, though. I’m not sure my last boyfriend even liked me this much.” I bit my lip, turning the page, and read the next page, that day, aloud.
Day 17: I started calling her H and H looks incredible today. Leather boots are laced up her ankles and her gray dress stops at her knees. She has a nasty bruise on her shin though. A bright scarf is keeping her hair from her face while she is completely engrossed in a Hugh Howey novel. I’ll need to look him up. I’ve read more in the last 17 days than I did all through college, but it hasn’t helped me learn about her. Her tastes vary so widely. I feel like a stalker but I can’t help it. I want to know what brought her here and the way she is chewing the end of her pen makes me want to kiss her full lips. Now I’ve crossed over to creepy coward from regular coward.
I tuck the notebook back in my bag and start for the door. “I’m late, but I’ll be back for lunch. Curiouser and cur
iouser, right?” They both waved a good-bye to me, telling me to call if I got freaked out, and I ran across the street to the mortuary. Jim gave me a chastising glare but I flashed him an apologetic grin and hurried down to start my actual job. I spoke softly to the person lying on my table as I worked with the provided photo hanging above my sterile little cart. Most people I encountered thought my job was creepy, but I thought it important. When someone passes away, people need closure and the deceased need respect. I helped to provide that closure by making their loved one look as close to their photo as possible, giving the grieving family a good memory to carry with them. I worked with only the sound of my own voice, going from one body to the next.
My mind wandered, as usual, to what I left behind. It wasn’t much, really. I had the same job in a different location, one that I had for nearly three years. I had a room to sleep in. Well, I was supposed to until the eviction notice came. I should have known that my mother was snorting my half of the bills. Wasn’t the first time but it was the last. Washington State to Tennessee was far enough and I had at least one friend. Rae was my best friend and guardian growing up. She went to college in Tennessee, and then settled down with her sweet family. I should have followed her way back then, but the Harriet from the past was a glutton for punishment. She and Nick welcomed me like family, hosting me until I found a new place. Then after meeting Jovie, we found out Nick was her best friend and I looked at it all as fate. In less than three weeks, I had found more love and support than I ever had in twenty-five years with my mother and sister. Thank the Universe for taking care of my emotional needs or I would have shattered. Rehashing it all in my head made me feel a little less nostalgic and more excited about the future. I had stability for the first time in my life, and it felt so good.
