Meant For You

by Lili Valente

  “Oh my.” Shane lays a hand over her baby bump. “Thank God I’m out of the first trimester or you would be seeing my tacos right now. That’s the most revolting thing I’ve ever heard, Adeline.”

  I wince. “Sorry. I forgot about your delicate condition.”

  “Oh, pish, I’m not delicate.” Shane wrinkles her nose. “Far from it. I’m tough as nails. That’s why poison people leave me alone. They take one look in my eyes and realize there’s no point in trying to bring me down. I may look soft, but under the fluffy hair and pink nail polish I’m forged of titanium.”

  She hooks her arm through mine as we meander deeper into the park, giving my bicep a light squeeze. “But I worry about you, sweets. I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but I think you’re made of softer stuff. Soft, wonderful stuff that is precious in a hard world, but….” She sighs. “Well, I would just hate to see a well-poisoner like Eloise get to your groundwater and take your sparkle away.”

  My throat goes tight, and the back of my nose stings in a way I can’t blame on the late autumn wind. “Oh, she’s not that bad. She doesn’t mean to be difficult. It’s just the way she is.”

  And I wasn’t always so soft. I used to be strong, but that was a long time ago, before I learned that forgiveness and forever weren’t in my future, and that love can’t be trusted.

  “The way she is with you, love,” Shane corrects gently. “I’ve never heard her talk to anyone else the way she grouches at you. She takes advantage of the fact that you’re dependent on her for work and housing and everything else. And the past few months…” She shakes her head. “I don’t know. It almost seems like she’s been playing with you, doesn’t it? Seeing how far she can push you before you push back.”

  I huddle deeper into my coat. “Well, she’s going to be waiting a good long while, if that’s the case. I can’t push back. She’s my boss and my only work reference. I was seventeen when I came to live with her, Shane. I’ve never had another job. I’m not qualified to do anything else but indulge Eloise.” I shrug. “And besides, I owe her. A lot. Back then I had no money and nowhere else to go. Without Eloise I have no idea how I would have survived.”

  “I totally get it, babes. But things are different now.” Shane pulls me to the side of the path and turns to face me with a big smile. “I’ve already talked to Jake, and we both agree that you need out of that penthouse of horrors. We adore you so much and want to help, so we thought we could put down the money for you to get your own place!”

  I blink dumbly, while the rest of my features go slack with disbelief. Surely, she must be joking.

  “We’ll co-sign the lease if you need us to,” Shane prattles on, “and cover your first six months of rent and living expenses. That way you’ll have plenty of time to find another job and save for your rainy-day fund.” She waves a gloved hand. “And we honestly don’t care if you ever pay us back, but if your pride won’t let you accept a gift, then the debt will be interest free and you can take as long as you need to settle up.”

  I swallow hard, gratitude and shame wrestling in my chest, making me feel vaguely nauseous. “Oh, no, I couldn’t, Shane. I really couldn’t. I couldn’t take advantage of our friendship like that.”

  “You wouldn’t be taking advantage! I have plenty of money, and there is nothing I enjoy more than investing in people I believe in.” She takes my hand, her grip strong inside her fluffy pink mitten. “And I believe in you, Adeline Klein. You are clever and sweet and a wonderful friend, and I think you deserve to be happy.”

  “I am happy.” It isn’t a lie, at least not completely. I’m not happy, but I’m not miserable, either. Most of the time I’m pleasantly…neutral.

  And I owe that to Eloise.

  Eloise took me in when no one else would. She gave me a job and a room to call my own and never asked any uncomfortable questions.

  In the beginning, I had assumed she avoided awkward subjects because she knew my parents had disowned me. Later, I realized that she simply had no interest in the personal lives of “the help.” But that was okay, too.

  I appreciate the anonymity of being Eloise’s companion, of fading into the background with the other women who spend their days ferrying rich old ladies to card games, doctor’s appointments, and special exhibitions at the MET. In the months before I came to live with my great grandmother’s friend, my world was so painful that at first the absence of pain was pure pleasure.

  And if these days I occasionally feel like a doll tossed around by a spoiled child, that’s as much my fault as Eloise’s. I’m twenty-three years old. I’m not a scared teenager anymore. I’m a grown woman who is fully capable of standing up for herself.

  I just…don’t. I learned the hard way what happens when you bite the hand that feeds you. It bites back, leaving wounds that never completely heal.

  “At least think about it?” Shane asks, breaking into my thoughts. “The offer isn’t going to expire. You can take as long as you need.”

  “All right,” I say, though I fully intend to put the offer out of my mind. I can’t let Shane help me. I want to be her friend, not her charity case. Not to mention the fact that I couldn’t live with the shame if I let her down.

  If she and Jake went to all the trouble to give me a fresh start and I ended up not being able to turn my life around, I wouldn’t be able to hold my head up around either of them ever again.

  Better to stay as I am, where I am, and learn to make the best of it, I decide, and put it out of my mind.

  But now, as Eloise screeches my name again on this ice cold February morning, I can’t keep my brain from drifting to Shane’s offer.

  What might my day be like today if I were in my own apartment? Would I have time for a walk through the winter wonderland outside before I went to work? Would I have friends to call to make plans for a snowman building contest before I headed to my community college classes?

  There was a time when I won big at school. I skipped two grades, graduated high school at sixteen with a National Merit Scholarship, and landed a full ride to Rutgers University. I could be good at learning things again. I could get that degree in architecture, or something more practical that would allow me to earn a living wage faster. Maybe accounting. Or nursing.

  Or you could put your diabolical math skills to use on Wall Street devising quantitative software programs. That way, when you’ve retired, you’ll be able to use your corporate spoils to hire your own companion to treat terribly in your old age.

  The thought makes my stomach churn.

  I don’t want to be a Wall Street shark, or torture innocent people in my old age. I just want to take ownership of my life and stop paying for a mistake I made when I was a kid.

  It’s time to stop hiding in Eloise’s spare room and get back out into the world.

  Except that I’ve never been out in the world. I went from my parents’ house to this room in Eloise’s. Even with Shane’s help, there’s a chance the world will take one look at me, open its jaws, and eat me alive.

  Like a baby bunny. Or a marshmallow peep. Chomp, chomp, all gone.

  I wrinkle my nose at the thought. I’m not a marshmallow peep. When I have to be, I can be brave. Even if, in the end, my bravery is for nothing.

  In the spirit of bravery, I put on my clingy black sweater dress, the only item in my closet that could be considered even remotely sexy. I pair it with knee high boots, a necklace made of beads and copper Shane gave me for Christmas, and my cat eye glasses with rhinestones in the frame. This afternoon, I’m taking Eloise to the theater, but come five o’clock I’m officially off duty for the next twenty-four hours.

  Maybe I’ll take my clingy dress out for dinner somewhere nice. Maybe even hit one of those singles bars Jake, Shane’s husband, assures me are the low-key kind, not the scary kind. I might live with an elderly widow, but that doesn’t mean I have to be in bed alone by nine o’clock every night. And maybe giving dating another shot will build up my courage to make other c
hanges.

  If I can survive dating in Manhattan, applying for night school at a city college should be a breeze.

  Feeling inspired for a day of brave things—or at least seriously considering brave things—I leave my room, treading softly on the thick hall carpet. Eloise detests the sound of feet “tromping like elephants” down her hallways. I was never a tromper, but after years in Eloise’s employ, I move like a ninja, my steps whisper-quiet.

  I’m making a mental note to add “ninja walk” to my list of job skills—you never know what an employer might be looking for—when I step into the kitchen to see Eloise parked in her usual spot in the breakfast nook, the phone book open on the table before her, and a hell-raising expression on her face.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Addie

  “Good morning, Eloise.” I move into the kitchen without delay, fetching the kettle from the burner and filling it at the sink.

  Eloise has surprised me with the phonebook a few times before—usually when she’s angry and compiling a list of Very Important People to call with a list of Demands and Criticisms—and the quickest way to defuse her is with a cup of hot tea.

  “The goodness of the morning remains to be seen. I’ve already had to wait far too long for something to take the chill off,” Eloise replies, even though I’m running five minutes ahead of schedule. She pushes her wire glasses higher on her nose. “Why must they make the print so small, Adeline? Does the phone company expect their patrons to have a magnifying glass on hand when they need to place a call?”

  “What number are you looking for?” I put the kettle on and start arranging the tea things on the tray. “I can look it up online for you. Or you can borrow my cell if you would rather look it up yourself.”

  “Heavens, no. Do you want to give me a brain tumor?” Eloise looks up sharply. “Well, do you?”

  “No, of course not. Don’t be silly.” My smile shrivels beneath her glare. Apparently she’s been listening to her friend Claire’s theories about cell phone radiation again and isn’t in a joking mood. “Would you like me to look it up in the book for you, then?” I ask, changing tacks. “I have my glasses on.”

  “I can see that,” Eloise snaps. “I’m not blind. I also have my glasses on, and my eyes work perfectly well.” Her gaze sweeps up and down, taking in my dress and shiny black boots. “Expecting company for breakfast, are we?”

  I force a smile and pin it in place this time, refusing to let her bad mood rain on my courage parade. “No, just looking forward to the theater later, so I thought I’d wear a dress. Dresses make things feel festive, don’t you think?”

  She huffs as she flips another whisper-thin page. “I thought you might be expecting Miss Willoughby’s beau to stop by. You’ve certainly been fussing with yourself a lot more since that man moved in upstairs.”

  I frown but keep my tone light as I remind her, “Miss Willoughby is Mrs. Falcone now. That man is her husband.”

  “Which makes the way you look at him even more scandalous,” Eloise mutters.

  I turn from the tray, propping a hand on my hip and pinning her with a glare. Unfortunately, she isn’t looking at me. Her nose is still buried in the phone book, somewhere in the Rs, if I’m not mistaken.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say firmly. “Jake is my friend. Just like Shane is my friend. That’s all there is to it.”

  Eloise hums, but she doesn’t take her gaze from the tiny print. “Is that right? Well, my mistake, I suppose. But I’m certainly not mistaking the way you fawn all over that criminal down on eighty-sixth street.”

  “Do you mean Kevin?” I squint, trying to understand how we made the leap from Jake to a homeless man. It’s too early for this much crazy, but Eloise does enjoy tormenting me before I’ve had caffeine.

  “Which proves my point.” She taps a finger emphatically on the page in front of her. “What decent young woman goes around learning the names of the local degenerates?”

  “Kevin is homeless, Eloise. We don’t know if he’s a criminal or a degenerate.” I spoon tea into the teapot filter with more force than necessary. “And when I speak to someone more than once or twice, I like to introduce myself. It’s just good manners. Besides, the man quotes poetry—what’s so horrible about that? Personally, I would rather treat people with dignity until given a reason to do otherwise. We don’t know what Kevin’s been through, and a little compassion can go a long way when you’re down on your luck.”

  Eloise’s brows crawl higher on her forehead, proving she’s as surprised by my rant as I am. She meets my gaze, her blue eyes sharp and assessing, looking as if she’s deciding where to skewer a particularly disappointing piece of black market meat. “I see. This is personal for you, isn’t it?”

  I’m on the verge of begging her to stop picking at me until I’ve had a cup of tea, when the pot begins to whistle, and I lunge for the handle like a lifeline. I’m five minutes of steeping away from a cup of earl grey, which I will drink as soon as it’s cool enough to suck down, Eloise’s perfect temperature be damned.

  “Because of your situation,” Eloise continues as I fill the pot, put the lid on, and cover it with a tea cozy. “With your parents and your…trouble.”

  I freeze, my skin going cold. She’s never talked about my parents or the reason I came to live with her, not once in all these years.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I whisper, my stomach tying itself in an elaborate knot.

  “Well, if I hadn’t taken you in, you might be homeless,” Eloise says, her matter-of-fact words a knife slid neatly between my ribs. “You could have been out there on the streets with your poet, begging for change.”

  I shake my head, silently denying it, though she’s probably right.

  Maybe if Mom had known I had nowhere else to go, she would have let me come home. But maybe she wouldn’t have. The not knowing is a cold wind that blows straight through my heart, and Eloise is clearly relishing holding open the door.

  “But personal or not, this can’t be allowed to continue.” She sniffs, lifting her pointy nose into the air. “I was up all night thinking about how you encourage that man, making him think you’re friends on the way to something more. It’s scandalous.”

  “Eloise, that’s ridiculous! I’ve never—”

  “And dangerous!” She lifts her hands into the air in surrender, as if I’m the one attacking her first thing in the morning. “What happens when he decides talking isn’t enough for him anymore? When he decides to follow you back here and make himself at home in my kitchen?”

  “We have a doorman to let him know he isn’t on the visitor’s list,” I remind her. “But there’s no reason to think that Kevin would—”

  “There are ways around that doorman, as you very well know.” She wags an energetic finger, making me suspect she had Mina pop out and pick her up a cappuccino before I woke up. She’s way too sassy for having been deprived of tea since her cup of Sandman’s Friend last night. “The woman who kidnapped Miss Willoughby walked right past Aaron with a gun and the man didn’t even notice. Not to mention the fact that he allowed a madwoman who wasn’t on the approved list to get up to the penthouse in the first place. There are flaws in our security, and until we implement new procedures, none of us are safe. This isn’t the time to start making dangerous friends and courting disaster!”

  I drop two sugar cubes into my cup with a sigh. “Eloise, please. I’m not courting disaster. I’m saying hello to a nice old man. Don’t you think you’re blowing this out of proportion?”

  Her mouth prunes, and I do my best not to think uncharitable thoughts about how much her lips look like a cat’s anus. “The only thing I may be blowing out of proportion is your continued usefulness. If I can’t trust my companion to keep me safe, then what’s the point in continuing to pay your salary, Adeline? Answer me that if you’re so clever this morning!”

  It’s the first time she’s flat out threatened to fire me instead of inferring it with
a sneaky, passive aggressive comment to one of her friends about the “difficulty of finding dependable help.”

  Strangely, hearing the words spoken aloud is almost a relief.

  “Well, that’s a choice you have to make,” I say, calmly stirring my tea. “You have every right to let me go, but I promise that I have always done my best to take care of you, and I’m happy to continue doing so. I don’t believe Kevin is a threat to your safety or to mine, but if you’re so worried that it’s keeping you awake at night, I can explain to him that my employer would rather I not speak to him while I’m at work. Will that solve the problem?”

  She shakes her head briskly. “No, that won’t do at all. You’ll make him angry if you do that. Honestly, girl, have you no common sense at all?”

  I fight the urge to throw my hands in the air. “Then how would you suggest I handle it? There’s no way around that corner unless we go a long block out of our way every time we cross the street into the park.”

  “We won’t have to go around it.” Her lips curve into a mean little grin as she taps a finger on the phonebook. “We’ll get rid of the nuisance, instead. I’m going to call Eunice’s son, the one who works with the district attorney’s office. We’ll explain to him that this vagrant has been harassing us, saying rude things and threatening violence, and they’ll pop over and have him taken away.”

  My mouth opens and closes twice before I can recover enough to form words. “But that’s not true.”

  She sniffs. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true. I’ll have my peace of mind, and the man will be better off in a mental ward than out on the street. That’s all you care about, isn’t it, Adeline? Your friend’s well-being?”