Underestimated

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Underestimated Page 7

by Jettie Woodruff


  I also found a whole stack of beautiful Indian paintings that needed to be on display. They were beautiful. The first day that I had hung them on the hooks that Dawson also hung for me, I sold three of them. I hung some uniquely made dream catchers which were also selling like crazy. I found the company that had made them and ordered another box in all shapes and sizes.

  Lauren and Dawson helped two Sundays in a row, scrubbing and re-staining the wood floors. I couldn’t wait for Starlight to get back to see her new store. I also hoped that she wasn’t going to be mad at all of the changes that I took upon myself to do.

  A young girl from the next town over stopped in one day and had just opened up a cookie and cupcake store and wanted to know if I would be interested in placing an order. I had told her that I would order once and see how they went and if they did okay I would order more. They did more than okay, and she was bringing fresh orders daily. The display case that Dawson helped get from the back room to beside the counter was perfect and I even had room for Phyllis’s Saturday morning doughnuts in the case. I was the one to get the cookies, cupcakes, and pastries from the case. I hated the way it was before and people could just finger whatever. I felt much better about taking the food out with my plastic gloved hand.

  Dawson was there, as normal, earlier than he needed to be on Saturday morning. I was frantically cleaning and making sure everything was perfect for Starlight. I was a nervous wreck and hoped that she was okay with all of the changes.

  “Will you get over here and sit down,” Dawson pleaded. “I know Starlight. She is going to love it.”

  I got a cup of coffee and sat at the booth in front of the window with him, patiently waiting and wishing that she would get there already.

  “You want to go eat some ribs tonight?” Dawson asked as we waited.

  “Hmm, maybe,” I replied.

  “Maybe?”

  “Well it’s six o’clock in the morning. I can’t think about supper until I have breakfast and lunch.”

  Dawson laughed. “Okay, let me know after lunch.”

  I ran to the back room when I heard the door unlock, knowing that it was Starlight. She came in with huge eyes, and her hand covered her mouth. Dawson had followed me back, wanting to see her reaction, as well.

  “Oh, my God, Riley, did you do all of this,” she asked in awe of the neatly organized storeroom that you could actually see the floor, and it was clean.

  “Well, I had some help,” I answered, smiling at Dawson. “I would have never been able to do it all myself.”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet, Starlight. This girl is a working machine. Welcome home,” Dawson added.

  “I don’t think I am home. This is not the store that I left.”

  She walked down the hall and opened the office door and gasped. I had hung pictures on the walls, the desk was clear, except for the computer and a folder in a medal slot with an order for some psychedelic flip-flops that I wanted to purchase for the store. It was now pretty warm out, and with the tourists that I had been getting in the store, I knew they would sell.

  Starlight couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She opened the drawers and filing cabinet with the wisely placed tabs with a tangible system. She couldn’t seem to close her mouth. She continued and walked in both the men’s and women’s restrooms. They too were transformed into delicately decorated rooms. Both rooms had an Indian theme and the décor all came from things that I had found in the storeroom, except for the paint. We did paint those two rooms because they desperately needed it. The rust colored paint with the Indian design looked almost urban.

  “Riley, I am speechless,” she exclaimed.

  “So you’re not mad?”

  “Mad? No way. I am in shock that you did this.”

  “Keep walking,” Dawson said. I gasped when I felt him place his hand on the small of my back. I knew it was just a friendly gesture, but it made me feel like, like, I don’t know, like maybe I liked it.

  I thought Starlight was going to have a heart attack when she finally made it to the front. She took note of every little detail, not missing a thing, and commenting on every little alteration.

  She loved the new look and thought that my design was magnificent. She thought we had painted there too, and couldn’t believe it when I told her that we only scrubbed the walls. I told her that I had wanted to get the ceilings painted as well, but didn’t want to use all of her petty cash.

  “I will get the ceilings painted for you,” she almost demanded. She walked around the new counter and slid the deli case open just in time for Phyllis to bring in the Saturday morning doughnuts.

  “Oh, I better get the coffee going,” I said, forgetting the time after getting wrapped up in showing Starlight everything.

  “Oh no, you don’t. You’ve done enough. I’ve got it,” Starlight demanded, taking a bite of an oatmeal cookie. “I love the cookie idea, and I love you, Riley Murphy,” she stated. Dawson and I smiled at each other.

  Dawson didn’t hangout as long as he normally did, and Starlight was again amazed at the traffic that came in and out all day. We didn’t get to close until an hour later than normal and stayed another hour restocking the sold merchandise.

  “Riley, I don’t know if we can keep up at this rate,” she said as she replenished the tie-dye shirts on the rack.

  I smiled at her, and she shook her head. “Let me guess, you already have it covered?”

  “I do,” I said. “I sent for a catalogue from this company out of Oregon. They have the coolest stuff ever,” I explained, disappearing to the office to retrieve it.

  Starlight followed me, and we sat across from each other at the desk while she turned each page. I had corner pages folded of the things that I thought would be nice for the store and she circled a few things, as well.

  My cellphone rang, and I answered the call from Dawson.

  “Are we eating ribs or not? I’m starving.”

  “I forgot all about it, Dawson. You go ahead. I think I am going home and making homemade pizza.”

  “You made me wait until eight o’clock at night and didn’t call me. I’m coming over for homemade pizza,” he demanded, and I laughed.

  I wasn’t nervous around him anymore and wasn’t worried about anything happening between us. We had been hanging out for a month, and he had never even tried to kiss me.

  “Okay, I have to stop at the store and then I am headed that way.”

  “Sheriff Dawson, uh?” Starlight smiled.

  “No, we’re just friends. There is nothing romantic between Dawson and me.”

  “Why not? Dawson is a great guy.”

  “I just got out of one mess. I am not interested in another one. No thank you. I will see you Monday,” I said, taking my purse from the hook.

  “No, you won’t. You take the day off, take a couple of them if you want. You deserve it.”

  “I really would rather be here, Starlight,” I admitted, not wanting to be home alone with my thoughts.

  “Well, only if you want to be. Thank you so much for all of this, Riley. I couldn’t have asked you to do half of what you did.”

  “I’m just glad you like it.”

  “I love it. Have a good night.”

  It was almost nine before I got the pizza in the oven. Dawson came, and I told him to chill out while I grabbed a shower. I didn’t care that he was there, and I was putting on comfortable clothes, done with the whole impressing somebody else situation. I put on a baggy comfortable t-shirt and a pair of soft flannel pants. I figured we would end up sitting on the deck, and although the days were fairly hot, the evening ocean air was brisk.

  “I brought a couple of movies,” Dawson said as I entered wrapping my hair in a ponytail.

  Lauren was there and sitting on the sofa.

  “Hey, what are you doing? I figured you would be with Joel tonight,” I said when I saw her.

  “I am. Dawson answered your phone and said you were making homemade pizza.”

 
; I laughed. I don’t think the girl ever cooked. She just came to my house and helped herself.

  The three of us sat out on the deck and ate pizza and drank beer. I tried to tell Lauren to invite Joel over to my house, but they wanted to go to the bar because they had a band. She tried to get us to come with them, and I refused. She didn’t push it. My turning her down to hang out in the bar was starting to catch on, and she didn’t badger me about it as much.

  She drank two beers, ate two slices of pizza and left to meet Joel.

  Dawson and I stayed out on the deck and consumed more alcohol than I should have been drinking. I could feel it, and knew that was my limit when I stumbled a little when I went into the bathroom.

  “Comedy romance or action romance?” Dawson asked, holding up the two DVD’s.

  Romance? Awesome.

  “I don’t care. You pick.”

  We sat on separate ends of the couch, and he picked a comedy romance with Sandra Bullock. I had already seen the movie but didn’t tell him and watched it anyway. The wedding part took me back to my wedding day, and I stared blankly at the TV.

  I was looking out the small jet window when I knew that we were descending. I saw one runway and knew that we were going to land there. I remembered my heart beating too fast and was trying to talk myself out of a full blown panic attack. We landed the Jet and a black limousine picked us up.

  “Good evening, sir,” the man dressed in a black suit nodded to Drew, opening the door for us. I didn’t know where the other two men had gone that was on the flight with us, but they didn’t get into the car with us.

  Drew talked on his phone the entire time we were in the limo, not that it was a long drive. We were pulling up to the mansion of a house fifteen minutes later. I had found out later that the runway was his own private runway and was on the property of the estate. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. We drove through two stone pillars with the numbers 41293. I remembered repeating the number over and over in my head, just in case somebody cared and needed to come and rescue me. I wondered why the gate read, Callaway Estates, but assumed he had purchased it from the Callaway’s or something.

  I could barely keep my mouth shut when we were let into the house by a lady, maybe mid-thirties or so. She smiled at me and could probably tell how scared I was. Drew was still talking to someone on the phone, telling whoever he was talking to that he couldn’t drop price and to tell them that if they wanted it, the price was thirty five thousand and to take it or leave it.

  Wow, what could he be selling for thirty five thousand dollars? No wonder he lived here.

  Drew held my elbow and led me to his office where two other men were waiting for us. He walked around and sat in the oversized leather chair. I stood awkwardly at the door. The one guy was the one who had traveled with him to retrieve me. I wondered how he had gotten there before us and why he hadn’t ridden in the limousine with us.

  “Let’s get this over with. I have a plane to catch.” he told one of the men.

  “You sign here,” the same man in an expensive suit said, sliding the paper to him.

  All three men turned to look at me, and I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing.

  “Come on, Morgan, I don’t have all day,” Drew said. I was still puzzled.

  He got up and pulled me by the arm to his desk when I didn’t move. He grabbed my hand and shoved the pen in it.

  “Sign!” he almost yelled, poking hard at the X where my name was already printed.

  My hand started to tremble when I saw the top of the paper that said Secretary of the State, Nevada, and then it said certificate of marriage.

  What! This was my wedding? I couldn’t believe it. What was his motive? Why was he doing this?

  “Sign the Goddamn X, Morgan!” he yelled, and I could feel the tears forming in my eyes. I didn’t want to sign. I didn’t want to marry Drew Kelley.

  He grabbed my hand and scribbled my name with his.

  “Witness it, Derik,” he demanded and the other man signed as well.

  I was speechless. What the hell was going on? I was just forced to marry someone against my will. A very rich someone that didn’t care about the law, or that we had just gotten married illegally, I was sure.

  “That isn’t real,” I stated boldly. “You have to have a county of the clerk or a judge or preacher or justice of the peace,” I was rattling on and on nervously. Drew laughed.

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. Kelley. Ronald is a judge. It’s legal. Somebody get her the fuck out of here,” he said, and the lady that met us at the door came to retrieve me.

  “I will show you to your quarters, Mrs. Kelley.”

  “I am not Mrs. Kelley. Stop calling me that,” I demanded. She shushed me.

  “That is what I am ordered to call you. Please don’t make it difficult for me. I am just trying to do my job.”

  “But don’t you even care that I don’t want to be here? I don’t want to be his wife. I don’t even want to be in the same state as him. I hate him already.”

  The lady shushed me again. “Everything that you say Mrs. Kelley is heard by Mr. Kelley,” she whispered.

  Great so now I am going to be spied on too.

  “Do you have a name?” I asked.

  “Rebecca,” she answered, moving me right along.

  She opened the double doors, and I couldn’t help but suck in a deep breath at the beauty of the room, my room. It was absolutely gorgeous. The king size bed was bigger than my whole bedroom in the trailer. I never saw Drew again that night or for the next seven nights. Rebecca explained to me that he had to fly to Africa on business, and he would talk to me when he returned. I hoped he didn’t return, and his plane went down in the African rain forest, and he was eaten by a lion.

  Rebecca showed me around, and I gasped again at the bathroom. She told me to get cleaned up and to come back to the kitchen after I was bathed. She explained that she had a few things sent for me but not much, and I would have a fitting the following day for more clothes.

  A fitting?

  I showered with shower heads hitting every part of my body. I had to admit even though I was scared shitless, wondering what the hell a good looking rich man would want to marry me for, I couldn’t help but be just a little excited. The shower gel scent was outlandish and left my skin feeling soft and smooth.

  I put on the pants suit that was left for me on my luxurious bed and it was so pretty and soft, it made me want to do my hair and put on makeup. I didn’t of course. I didn’t have anything to do that with, yet.

  I wanted to open every door that I passed as I went to find Rebecca. I passed another younger girl that didn’t speak or look at me. She was carrying a stack of towels, and I assumed she too worked for Drew.

  I didn’t sit at the massive table in the dining room. I sat in the kitchen at the table that was still at least three times bigger than my wobbly table back home. I had the best meal I had ever had in my life. I had heard of shrimp scampi from the magazines that I used to get from the library and always looked at the recipes wishing that I could try some of them.

  I actually went to bed with a smile. I had the biggest flat screen TV that you could possibly buy. I stayed up so late watching all of the channels. We had a TV back home, but it was an old console one, and we didn’t have cable. We had an antenna and only got two channels. You had to beat the side of it every so often to make the lines stop rolling up it. I was so comfortable in the massive plush bed with satin designer sheets. I couldn’t believe that I was there. I think it was around two in the morning when I finally turned off the television and dozed off.

  I had slept until almost eleven before Rebecca finally came into wake me.

  “Mrs. Kelley, it’s time to wake up. You have an appointment at noon,” she said.

  I remember thinking that it must have been a dream. I felt so good in the bed, and the silk nightgown felt elegant against my skin. I didn’t want to wake up. I liked the dream.

  “Mrs. Kelley,”
Rebecca called again, waking me from my dream that wasn’t a dream after all. “You have to get up and get something to eat. You have an appointment soon.”

  “Appointment for what?” I asked sleepily. “Where am I going?”

  “You have an appointment here to have your hair and nails done, and they are doing your fitting so that you can get more clothes.”

  This is not real. This doesn’t happen in real life.

  I was going to put on the same pant suit from the night before, but it was gone and a new light pink pants and jacket were in its place. It was the softest material I had touched in my life. I looked at the tag, and it said 100% cashmere. I didn’t want to put on the stockings or the shoes. I loved the feel of the plush carpet under my feet, but I did wear them. I had a feeling bare feet weren’t quite acceptable around there.

  I had fruit and coffee for breakfast. I was eighteen and had never tasted coffee in my life. It was divine with just a hint of vanilla.

  “What does Drew do, Rebecca?” I asked, curious about his business.

  “That is a subject for you and Mr. Kelley,” she replied. I had a feeling that she was pretty loyal to Drew, and I wouldn’t be getting any information from her.

  My hair was past my waist. I wasn’t upset at all about cutting it. I had wanted it cut for a long time. I had even tried to cut some of the length off myself, but the only scissors that I could find in the trailer were too dull to cut one strand. I was not as happy about dying it. I liked my brown hair and wasn’t crazy about being a blonde.

  “You can cut it, but I will decline the blonde,” I said.

  Rebecca bent down to my ear sitting in the chair. “Mr. Kelley wants your hair lightened. Don’t be difficult, please,” she pleaded.

  I let them do my hair. I let them do my nails and a pedicure that felt wonderful. I loved being pampered and couldn’t believe that I had three people sucking up and kissing my ass the way that they were. However when it came to the bikini wax I was having no part of it. My hair was down there for a reason, and nobody was waxing it off, let alone one of these strangers, especially the guy. I threw a fit for ten minutes, refusing to lie on the table. Rebecca pulled me out to the hall and pointed to three men.

 

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