A Song of Redemption

by Lillian I Wolfe

  When I came back in, I saw Heeni sitting at the little table in the break room, and she pointed to the other chair. I lowered myself into it, feeling ill at ease.

  “Gillian, I know you’re not directly responsible for what happened. But I do think it was a result of your actions elsewhere that have become too controversial. I like you, girl, but I can’t have the possibility of more damage or danger to the dogs or people around here. As it is, I have been lenient with your hours and time away from the shop. It was your financial loss. But I can’t have this. I have to end your agreement with me. I am truly sorry.”

  My heart sputtered for a moment as I heard the words in a daze. Heeni was breaking our contract? She had every reason and every right to do it, but I was stunned. I wet my lips and nodded, feeling numb. “All right. I’m sorry, Heeni. I loved working here. I’ll pack up my things and be gone as quickly as I can.”

  Her lips trembled a little as she said, “You do that. And you take care of yourself, Gillian. Be safe.” She rose and headed back to the front of the shop.

  Now, I had no job. A hollowness filled my insides as if I couldn’t comprehend what had happened and what to do next. Pushing myself up, I grabbed a box from the back and began putting my things into it. Scissors, clippers, brushes, even some of the special items I used. I loaded all my personal stuff into it with a sense of finality; the end of another chapter in my life.

  BY THE TIME I GOT HOME, panic had set in. I hurried inside, flung my coat aside, and ran up the steps to my computer. I went to my banking site and called up the latest information on my checking account. In dismay, I realized I only had $687.33 in it, and one bill that hadn’t yet cleared would take it down another $42.83 before the end of the month. My rent was due in two weeks. I’d counted on the money from grooming to make up the difference to the $800 I’d owe.

  Anxiety increasing, I called Cate, my agent, to beg for work. “Help, Cate. I need money. Can you find me anything I can do short of singing at funerals? Weddings, bar mitzvahs, birthday parties, whatever—I need to work.”

  The urgency must have come through in my voice as Cate responded, “What’s happened, Gillian? You sound frantic.”

  “I am frantic. I don’t have a job anymore. Long story, but the pet salon cut me loose this morning.”

  “I thought you had a contract—”

  “I did, but something happened, and the owner broke it. Please, Cate, there must be something I can do.”

  I heard the deep sigh on the other end followed by, “hmm.”

  “I don’t know, sweetie. A lot of the usual clients don’t want to risk an event with you. Maybe I can find you something that isn’t a public event or something where you don’t perform. I’m trying to line up a commercial or two, but they may not want your face in it. I’ll look at voice-overs... Oh, wait, here’s something that just came on Friday. A local company is looking for a jingle writer. Can you do that?”

  “A jingle?” I repeated dumbly. “Yeah, I can probably come up with something on that. I did a few for class while at the university, sold two of them. I still have the video of those.”

  “Wonderful. Do you have them in a digital file you can email to me?” She actually sounded enthused about it.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do.”

  “Perfect. If the company selects you to do it, I think the pay will be pretty decent, and if they want you to sing it, there’ll be a bonus for that.”

  “Okay, put me in for it.”

  “Right,” she answered. “Send me the files, and I’ll get on it.”

  As soon as we hung up, I started going through my stored video files until I located the two jingles. One was for a car dealership, and the other was for a pet pooper-scooper service. I cringed as I listened to the last one, but the client had loved it. Or he’d loved that he had gotten it for very little money from a student instead of a professional. I attached them to the email and hit send.

  Jingle-writing. God. My head fell forward onto my folded arms as I considered how far I’d fallen. Not that jingles were a bad deal; nationally-used ones could earn a lot of money in residuals. But local ones? Not so much.

  I admitted to myself that I wasn’t crazy about jingle-writing. A concise art form, I hadn’t exactly excelled at it in college. But if it could bring in a decent paycheck, I was willing to give it my best effort. Then again, it might be a long shot to make it pay off.

  In the throes of my despair, I dragged myself up and went down to the kitchen where I pulled out my box of cheap wine and filled a large glass. I glanced at the clock. One minute after noon. Time to start drinking. I took a gulp, picked up the box and the glass, then headed back to my bedroom. I sat propped against the foot of the bed, sipping and considering how I’d ended up in this position.

  I needed to find a job. But what kind of job? What could I do that didn’t involve cutting dog hair or singing? I could teach music, but I didn’t dare put children at risk, and I didn’t like teaching all that much anyway. Face it, anything I did might risk people around me if the demon was after me. And what regular job would give me the time I needed to fight demons and possibly take off for some other part of the world?

  The only other option I had was to give up the house and move in with either Ferris or Orielle. So, I went back to considering which would be the better choice at this time. I loved Ferris and wanted to live with him...eventually. Right now, it seemed too soon. Every, admittedly questionable, instinct I had told me I couldn’t risk screwing our relationship up.

  Orielle wasn’t my favorite person, but I got along with her well enough. She had plenty of room at Gavin’s house until he came home, assuming he would recover at some point. From the standpoint of working to defeat Belphegor and the yiaiwa, it made good sense to move there. We could work more closely and maybe actually come up with a feasible plan.

  My thoughts went back and forth several times over the next couple of hours and into the second full glass of wine. Finally, I dialed Orielle’s number and waited. She answered on the third ring.

  “I’m moving in with you,” I said in a dull voice. “Probably in the next few days. But I don’t have a job anymore, so demon hunting is my new vocation.”

  There was a short pause, then she said, “I think it will be good for us. We can figure this out, Gillian. Demon hunting is right up my alley.” I could almost hear the grin in her voice.

  I hung up, raised my glass in the air, and muttered, “To hunting those monsters.” I took another swig and leaned my head back.

  In response, Nygard crawled into my lap and curled up to sleep. I supposed that was his seal of approval.

  Such was the sad, mostly drunken state Ferris found me in when he stopped by several hours later. Still sitting against the bed in the now almost dark bedroom, I lifted my empty glass to him as he came upstairs calling my name.

  “What the hell?” he muttered. “Have you been drinking all day?”

  “What time is it?” I slurred.

  “Six.”

  “Yep, mostly, I guess. Heenie fired me, so it seemed like a good plan.”

  “I heard,” he said as he squatted down beside me. “I went by the shop before I came here. It’s not the end of the world, babe.”

  “Uhmm, I can’t stay here. So, ends this part of it.”

  He took the glass out of my hand and shoved the boxed wine, what little was left, aside and sat next to me. “I’ve already asked you to move in. So why not now?”

  “Uh uh, I’m not moving with you. Too risky.” Inhibitions down, I was ready to tell him the truth.

  He snorted a little laugh as he reached for my hand. “Risky? What are you talking about?”

  “I think I love you, but I don’t think I’m ready for it right now. I don’t want to blow it.” That almost came out coherent.

  His fingers rubbed over my thumb and the back of my hand. A little buzz of energy worked its way up my arm and down through my middle, sending hints of need to my body.

/>   “Feels good,” I moaned and dropped my head against his shoulder. Nygard pushed his head against our hands and mrrowed. “My cat likes you. He has good taste.”

  Ferris laughed, “Yeah, he does. And you are so toasted.” He somehow managed to get to his feet and pick me up at the same time, lifting me onto my bed. “I think you’d better sleep it off, babe.”

  I started to object, but the thought vanished between one word and the next, and I closed my eyes shutting out the world.

  MY HEAD POUNDED AND my eyes burned as I stumbled from my bed, still clothed from the previous day, and shakily made my way down the stairs by hanging off the banister all the way. Wine hangovers were the worst, at least for me. Mid-way down, I smelled coffee, and I gravitated toward the kitchen immediately.

  Ferris leaned against the counter sipping a cup and flashed a wicked smile at me as I shuffled in. He poured another cup, added a little cream, and handed it to me.

  “You look like you lost the fight,” he said.

  I took the cup and sipped three times before I replied. “I feel like it as well. Thanks for getting me to bed.”

  “Least I could do.”

  “You stayed the night?” I thought he was wearing the same clothes, but I didn’t have a clear memory of them.

  “Oh, yeah. Didn’t want to leave you alone in the state you were in.” His voice still reflected concern. “You okay?”

  I gulped a little more coffee now that it was cooler. “Headache, blurry vision, all the normal stuff. Don’t you have to work?”

  He glanced at the clock and nodded. “Uh huh. I told them I’d be a little late this morning. I wanted to be sure you’re okay.”

  “Right. Is there any toast?” I was hungry but not eager to eat.

  “Sure, I’ll fix you some. Butter and jam?”

  “No...just dry.”

  I turned and made my way to the table, dropping like a dumbbell into the nearest chair. Nursing my coffee, I gazed at the small, but functional, main room on the ground floor of my little house. The one I wouldn’t have much longer, and the feeling of loss hit me again. I was losing everything...best friend, musical career, paying job, and house. My life was a disaster.

  Ferris brought a small plate with two pieces of toast, perfectly cooked and sliced in half diagonally, and set it in front of me. “Anything else? Juice? Aspirin?”

  Reaching for the toast, I managed a shake of my head then took a bite and chewed it slowly. I could hear the crunch inside my brain.

  He sat across from me and leaned an elbow on the table, bracing his chin on his palm. “I wanted to talk to you about moving in. It’s the logical thing to do, and I want you to do it.”

  His eyes held an imploring look as I managed to focus on them. What had I decided? Oh, yeah... I remembered. I took a deep breath and tried to say it without offending him. “I appreciate the offer. Truly, I do. But I can’t do it. Not now. I need some things resolved in my life—more settled—before I can make that leap. I’ve decided to move in with Orielle for a while.”

  “What?!” His whole face frowned at me. “I don’t understand. I love you. I thought you loved me. What’s the problem?”

  I looked away. I couldn’t say this while looking at Ferris’s disappointed face. “I do love you... That’s why now is not a good time. Too many things are falling apart in my life, and I don’t want to put our relationship in the mix. If I’m with Orielle, we can be working on the problem that is causing me so much grief.”

  “So, you’re shutting me out?” he growled, anger and hurt edging his voice.

  “Not shutting you out,” I shot back. “Just keeping you at the same distance you are now until this is resolved. Please understand what I’m going through.”

  “Christ, Gillian... I know this stuff is crazy, but I want to be your partner and be supportive. I want to help you and keep you safe. How can I do that from a distance?”

  “How could you do it if I was right next to you? I can only draw strength from you, but the battle is still mine. Ori and I together have to find the way to defeat the yiaiwa or none of this matters. Please...” My head was pounding, and I was not in the mood for an argument. At the same time, my stomach rumbled with upset and fear of losing him. One more loss.

  He twisted his head away from me, his gaze driving to the far end of the room where Nygard sat at the bottom of the stairs and watched us with his unblinking stare. Ferris slammed the flat of his hand onto the table, a release of his anger, then sprang to his feet.

  “I need to get to work. We’ll talk later.” He picked up his wallet and keys from the coffee table and strode out the door without even a glance back.

  If he’d looked, he would have seen the tears streaming down my face.

  Chapter 11

  BY NOON, I’D SHOWERED, drunk two more cups of coffee, and taken a pair of aspirin, which pretty much took care of my headache. I set out on a quest for moving boxes and caught my landlady as I reached the driveway to give her the bad news. Even though she was sorry to see me leave, she still squawked a little about the short notice. But she understood when I told her I lost my job and didn’t have the rent money. Of course, it meant I forfeited the extra money I’d paid when I first moved in along with the cleaning deposit.

  I knew a couple of places where I could pick up some decent-sized discarded boxes and went there. I tried to estimate how many I would need versus how many I could fit into the Jeep. I hated moving, but it always resulted in my reducing the amount of junk I had. The piano would be the big issue. I had planned to ask Ferris for help with that, but now I wasn’t so sure he would even be around. For now, I tried not to think about that too much.

  While I had a couple of friends I could call on for help, none had a truck or van other than Ferris. I sure couldn’t afford to rent a moving van, so I’d have to figure something out with that. Maybe Orielle had the keys to Gavin’s truck, and we could use it.

  Once I’d filled the Jeep with boxes, I headed home to begin packing things up. While Nygard hopped in and out of the three boxes I set up in the living room, I started to move my books into them. Pausing to look over the titles, I took about a dozen out of the collection to take to a used bookstore and put the rest in the containers. I tackled the CD collection next, filling another two cartons with those.

  Once that was done, I took a break, grabbed a cold drink, and went upstairs to my computer. I scanned through the emails and opened one from Elly, who asked about the package. I sent a brief note back letting her know the glove arrived safely, and I’d be in touch in a few days to set up a test. Nothing else of importance caught my eye. I leaned back and let my eyes drift around the room, taking note of everything I’d need to pack. The furniture would be a problem. I had no idea what I’d do with all of it. Maybe I could leave it, and the landlady could rent the place furnished.

  A sharp knock on the front door interrupted my moving contemplations. Now what? I was half-way down the steps when the door pushed open, alarming me. I started to turn to go back up for my gun when I heard Ferris call out my name.

  I swung back toward him, watching as he stepped inside and paused to stare at the boxes on the floor. Even from my view on the steps, I could see the gloomy look on his face. Well, that made two of us. I continued down.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were coming by tonight.”

  He shrugged. “Starting to pack, I see. So when are you moving?”

  “As soon as I can get everything boxed up. I need to be out before the first of next month.” That left seven days to do it.

  I moseyed up next to him, stomach fluttering with nerves and afraid to talk much about it. I didn’t want to argue with him, and I didn’t quite know how to ask him for help under the circumstances.

  “I’m sorry about the scene this morning,” he said. “I’m disappointed because I’d hoped so much that you’d move in.” He held up a hand to say stop before I might interrupt. “But I understand what you’re saying, and while I disagree, I ca
n see why you’re reluctant. At least, I think I can.”

  I crossed my arms across my chest and dropped my gaze to the floor for a moment, trying to think my words through. “I do love you, Ferris. And I want to be with you. But I need to be more confident in myself in this relationship before I can take that step. And, in all seriousness, the move to Gavin’s house is only temporary until Orielle and I can figure out a plan. I don’t see us as happy roommates but as co-conspirators working on an impossible solution to save humanity. Doesn’t that sound super-hero-like?”

  A hesitant smile touched his mouth, but I sensed more worry than amusement in it. “Yeah, it does. Unfortunately, it’s too true. It doesn’t change anything between you and me, babe. I still want to be with you. I’ll still be there for you as much as I can.”

  Relief washed over me in a flood of emotion as I flung myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck. “Thank goodness. I was so worried.”

  His arms wrapped around me, pulling me tighter, and his lips brushed against my neck as he whispered, “It’s all right, babe. You won’t get rid of me that easily.” While he swayed with me in his arms, my heart swelled with joy and relief, yet I managed to avoid getting too teary-eyed.

  After indulging a few more moments, I pulled back and let out a deep breath. So much had gone wrong lately that I had expected our relationship to take a nosedive.

  Ferris glanced around the room. “So, what are you doing with the furniture? Is there room at Gavin’s?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out. Really, it’s the sofa, two armchairs, the little dinette, my bed, and four bookcases. Oh, and the TV. But, I don’t have the money for a rental truck, so I thought maybe I’d leave most of it.”

  He pushed a foot against the box of books. “You’ll need your bookcases and the bed. What about the piano?”

  I bit down on my lip. “Yeah, that’s a problem.” I’d had that piano since I was thirteen, one of the last things my mother had bought for me. It had taken her three years on a payment plan, and she’d reminded me every month as she’d paid the bill.