Forget-Me-Not

by Kris Bryant

  “He’s a stray that the shop took in. I’m sure Leigh would take him when the shop sells,” she says. She puts Abram back on the floor and points to the office. “The way upstairs is through the office.” She marches past me and I fall into step behind her. Now that I’m only a few feet behind her, I can appreciate her form as we climb the steps. Her curves are hidden beneath a suit that is a half size too large for her, but I can still make them out. She is about four inches taller than I am, but about two inches are heels. Because of her slight form, she seems taller. “It might be cold up here. I opened a few of the windows for fresh air.” My great aunt’s place is surprisingly fashionable. The furniture is so retro, it’s actually modern again and in really good shape. The sofa and recliner are a neutral color and contrast well against the dark mahogany coffee and end tables. Most of the personality of the room is punctuated by colorful artwork. Turns out my great aunt was pretty hip. She has an old fashioned radio that I reach out and turn on for no reason other than to keep my hands busy.

  “I really like this place,” I say. It’s about the size of my condo back in Dallas, only not as modern. I don’t see a dishwasher or microwave in the kitchen, but I do see a gas stove and I can’t help but turn on the burner. “I love cooking with gas.”

  “How do you cook now?” Kerry seems confused.

  “I have an electric stove now and I don’t like it so I don’t cook very often,” I say. “Plus it’s hard to just cook for one person.”

  “You are not married?”

  “No. Most of my meals come from the microwave or from the Chinese restaurant on the corner,” I say. I can’t tell if she’s horrified at the fact that I nuke my meals or that I eat Chinese food. Her lips are pursed tightly and her scowl isn’t pleasant.

  “I always thought that was an exaggeration,” she says. So it’s the microwave.

  “I work quite a bit during the week and get home late so my meals are sketchy,” I say.

  “What do you do for work?” she asks. She seems genuinely interested.

  “I work for an advertising firm,” I say.

  “For print or television?”

  “Both. I mainly dabble in print and layout, but I head their media department, too,” I say. Finally, I’ve impressed her.

  “It sounds like you have an important job,” she says. I shrug at her, but secretly I’m trying not to smile. “How long will you be here before they can’t work without you?”

  “I’m here just shy of a week, but if we need longer to seam things up, I can take more time. Thankfully, I can work out of the office. Most of what I do is approve campaigns or give suggestions to our teams.” I don’t tell her that we have six teams that keep me busy or that I do a lot of the photography for ads because I have a hard time trusting our photographers to capture exactly what I want. Hence, my sixty to seventy hour work weeks and zero love life.

  “Sounds interesting. I’m almost certain we will be able to wrap this up in a week.”

  “One question, I noticed when I was looking at places to stay a lot of houses and apartments come fully furnished. Do you think I should do that with Aunt Nola’s stuff?” I correct myself because I sound heartless. “I mean, offer her furniture and belongings since it seems to be a popular thing to do here. Or, if anybody who works here at the shop wants anything of hers, I’m more than willing to give it to them.”

  “I think you should do whatever you want to do,” she says. She is not helping me.

  “What do you normally do? As a real estate agent or as somebody who probably knows what to do in a situation like this.” Getting information out of her is not easy. “A little bit of help here would be great.” Now she’s starting to get under my skin and not in a good way.

  “It’s really up to the seller,” she says. I grit my teeth and just shake my head. We stare at each other for a few moments. She senses my frustration and gives in first. “In your situation, unless you want to box up and ship the furniture somewhere, we can list it as a furnished apartment included with the sale.”

  “Thank you.” Jesus, how hard was that? “This might take me longer than a few days. Maybe I’ll tack on a week so I can get through all of her things.”

  “We aren’t done with the property. I need to show you the best part.” The tension in her voice is replaced by appreciation.

  “Oh?” I lift my eyebrow at her. She does that almost smile thing at me again and asks me to follow her. We head through the kitchen to a door almost hidden by a closet.

  “Be careful and watch your step.” She points down to an uneven first step. Again I follow her up. When she opens the door, she turns to me and gives me a smile that makes me weak in the knees. I’m not expecting that. I grab hold of the railing and give her a quick smile back. We walk out onto the roof and I understand why her smile is so large. This is fantastic. The roof was a getaway for my great aunt. There are plants and flowers everywhere. A cute wicker patio set faces the Irish Sea. I’m instantly mesmerized. It’s a beautiful view. There is even a hammock off to one side and as tempted as I am to jump in it, I refrain. I walk around, soaking in the beauty and peace of this slice of paradise.

  “Wow. This is incredible, Kerry. Absolutely gorgeous.” She’s still smiling at me and I have a strong urge to keep that beautiful smile on her face. “I hope my aunt spent a lot of time up here. I know that I would if I lived here.”

  “I think that with this bonus, you won’t have any problem selling the property,” she says. She is all business again. I honestly can’t keep up with her mood swings. She quickly looks at her watch. “I bet Leigh and Emma are downstairs now. Would you like to meet them?” I nod and follow her back down the two flights of stairs until we are back in the office. A woman is sitting at a desk reviewing paperwork. “Leigh, come meet Nola’s great niece, Grace Danner. I will be working with her in handling the property,” she says. A thin, wisp of a woman stands up to greet me. She is in her late fifties, early sixties with salt and pepper hair and a pleasant face. Truthfully, she could be from any of the last seven decades, her practical, cotton floral dress timeless. Leigh reaches out to my outstretched hand and cups it in both of hers.

  “Oh, dear. I am sorry about Nola. She was quite the lady.” She holds my hand a little longer than necessary and stares at me. Suddenly self-conscious, I carefully remove my hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you. This is a beautiful shop. You’ve done a wonderful job with its upkeep,” I say. I can be charming. Even Kerry smiles at me. Weak knees again.

  “Has she shown you around then?”

  “Yes, Kerry has been extremely kind in showing me the property.” I confess that I accidentally made her crash her car and the look on Leigh’s face makes me feel ten times worse.

  “Are you all right?” At this point, I really just want to slip away and start this day over. Leigh must sense my discomfort because she does an about face and is charming once again to me. “Well, obviously Kerry is fine and Luke will take care of things.” We all turn and look when we hear a bell announcing someone has entered the shop. “Oh, look. It’s Emma. Good morning. Please come over and meet Grace from America.” A very pregnant and beautiful young woman walks over to us, careful not to trip over Abram who wants her attention, and stretches out her hand to greet me.

  “Grace. It’s nice to meet you. I’m just sorry it’s under these circumstances.” She tucks a few strands of hair up into her bun, the color as pretty as Kerry’s, and I wonder how long hers is. “We really admired your aunt. She was a very nice lady.”

  “I wish that I knew her better. She’s been over here so long that I have only visited with her a few times back in the States,” I say. I don’t tell them it was only twice because I already feel the two strikes against me. One, I caused Kerry to crash her car and two, by selling the place, I am going to put three employees out of their jobs. I’m not about to lose any more respect they might have for me because I’ve made no effort to get to know Aunt Nola. My heart is even heavier
now that I know Emma is pregnant and she will be out of a job soon.

  For the next fifteen minutes, I politely listen to Leigh explain how the business is run and how there are ups and downs depending on the season, the social events, and the age of people in the town, but I’m really trying to overhear Kerry and Emma’s conversation. They seem very friendly with one another and I wonder if they are about the same age. Maybe they went to school together or attend the same church. There are so many little churches in this town, I don’t know which ones are historical sites and which ones are active. When Kerry reaches out and puts her hand on Emma’s tummy to feel the baby kick, I know they have serious history. “So what are your plans while you are here in town? My husband and I would love to have you over for dinner one night if you aren’t too busy,” Leigh says.

  “That would be wonderful. Thank you very much for your hospitality. I know this is a big change for you.” I don’t know how to apologize to somebody who is about to lose their job. Even though it’s not my fault, I know it’s my responsibility and I feel horrible.

  “We will treat you to a home cooked Irish meal,” she says. Damn, if it’s as good as the Irish stew I had last night, I’m going to want to stay and eat my way through Ireland.

  “That sounds lovely. Any night is fine. I will spend several nights here at the shop going through Aunt Nola’s belongings,” I say. I know I will have to go through every piece of paper up there and ensure it goes to the right person or place. As much as I want to get to know Howth and the neighborhood, I’m going to have to stay focused so that I stay on schedule. Hopefully they won’t mind if I head upstairs after a few more minutes of pleasantries. The door boldly opens and we are interrupted by a thin young man with a mop of dirty blond hair who apologizes for scaring us.

  “Ladies, good morning. Sorry for being late,” he says. He runs his hand through his hair, pushing the long curls from his forehead. He is tall, pale and borderline unkempt, but charmingly so. I instantly like him. “I’m Conor. You must be Grace.” He is not shy and briefly I think he might be flirting with me, but I see he is this way with all of the women. He leans past me and places a quick kiss on Leigh’s cheek. He focuses his attention back on me and I’m stunned by his copper colored eyes. “It’s nice to meet you. When did you arrive?”

  “Last night. I’m ready for a nap. Jet lag and all,” I say.

  “I’ve never flown before but I understand it can be challenging,” he says. He turns his attention back to the rest of the women. “What’s in store for us today? Any new deliveries?” Leigh motions for him to follow her to the back to review the orders of the day and I’m left with Kerry and Emma. Feeling very awkward because now I’m the third wheel, I gingerly step away under the guise of looking for Abram. I’m sure Kerry can’t wait to tell Emma about our initial meeting. I inwardly cringe again recalling the scene from just an hour ago. We hear the bell again and I see a large man wearing navy blue coveralls enter the shop. He’s all muscle and looks like he’s been playing rugby since birth. A true bulldog of a man. I’m actually frightened.

  “Where are you, missy?” Knowing my luck, he’s looking for me.

  “Which one of us are you looking for?” Emma asks. I struggle a bit to understand her when she slips into her dialect.

  “Come here, you.” He gently scoops up Emma into a bear hug until she squeals.

  “Da, be careful. You don’t want to hurt your back again,” she says. He reaches out and grabs Kerry, too, although with her he is a bit gentler.

  “Don’t worry about me.” He hands Kerry a set of keys. “Here. Take my car. Sean is loading up yours right now. It’s not as bad as you think. We just need to pop out the hood, bang out the bumper, nothing major. I’ll have it back to you by the end of the week.” I quietly slink over to them, my presence forgotten.

  “I’m so sorry. Please let me know how much the repairs are going to be and I’ll pay for them. And whatever the cost for the car she will be driving until hers gets fixed.” He turns to me and I almost take a step back from his size and intensity.

  “So, you’re the one who jumped out into traffic?” He barks out a laugh. “Oh, boy. I wish I could have seen it. Kerry’s temper is always a pleasure to see.” He’s rewarded with a small punch in the arm from Kerry.

  “Luke, be nice. My temper isn’t that bad,” she says. A pink flush splashes across her cheeks and neck.

  “She is very understanding,” I say. He nods his head at me sarcastically, knowing full well she had a burst of very colorful and explicit language before reining in her rage. “I know I would have been very upset, but she really did not take it out on me. Please just let me know the costs. I’ll still be here by the end of the week. And even if it doesn’t get fixed by then, I’ll give you my credit card number.”

  He softens his look. “I’m sorry to hear about your aunt. She has always been nice to my girls here and to everybody in town.” He turns back to Kerry. “Now, give me your keys so we can get out of here and let you girls do what you need to do. I’m leaving you the Focus.” He waves at everybody again and leaves as quickly as he came. Emma doesn’t act surprised so I know Kerry must have told her.

  “What do we do now? Do I need to sign papers or go to your work?” I ask. Kerry waves me off.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll get the paperwork together and run it back out Monday or Tuesday. Does your mobile or handy work here in Ireland?” I stare at her blankly.

  “Your cell phone. Can you receive international calls and such on your phone?” Emma is quick to translate what Kerry is asking.

  “Oh, yes. I had my carrier add international to my cell before I made the trip.” Good call, Morgan. I silently praise her decision for insisting I upgrade my plan. I give Kerry my phone number. “Oh, and give this number to Luke, too, please. I don’t know how car insurance works over here, but since it’s my fault, I don’t want you to have to pay a deductible or anything.”

  “We will figure it out, Grace.” That’s the first time she’s called me by my name. It sounds musical and I find myself staring at her lips. The soft Irish lilt mixed with her raspy voice gives me a quick chill and I look away in case she starts getting uncomfortable. Kerry must be the kind of woman who gets a lot of attention and is completely clueless about it.

  “Okay. Well, I will leave you ladies and head upstairs to get started.” I give them a half wave on my way to the back of the store. I scold myself for attempting to be friendly. I’m not their favorite person right now and we aren’t friends.

  Chapter Three

  With the windows closed, the temperature upstairs is comfortable although I’m eyeing the fireplace. I can’t even remember the last time I sat in front of a fire. Not that I have time to relax, but I can only imagine it being very comforting. The only fire I see in Texas is when I’m grilling. I will have to ask Leigh if the fireplace works. Daydream over, I decide Aunt Nola’s desk is the best place to start. Judging by the look of her place, she is extremely organized so I say a quick prayer that she managed to keep great records. I open up the main desk drawer to find a large brown envelope addressed to me along with other documents, paper clipped in alphabetical order. I definitely did not inherit her organizational skills. I’m careful when I open the envelope. A wave of melancholy washes over me as my fingers brush over old photos carefully banded together with blue ribbon. I immediately recognize a few faces including my parents when they were first together, and my grandfather fishing with his brothers. The rest of the papers forgotten, I thumb through the stack of photos, a roller coaster of emotions as I realize most of the people in these photos are long gone. Thankfully, Aunt Nola has written on the back of the photos so I know who, what, when, and where they were taken. Her handwriting is smooth and calming. I find a color photo of her and another woman smiling and seemingly celebrating. I turn the photo over for more information, but find that she only has the name Kate written on it. I guess the photo to be about thirty years old based on how young m
y aunt looks and the style of clothing she and the mysterious Kate are wearing. They are smoking fat cigars and laughing. I pull the photo out from the rest of the stack and slip it into my back pocket. I want to know more about this photo and about Kate. I see a photo of the flower shop and my aunt standing proudly outside the front door. I flip it over and see that it’s from twelve years ago. Everything looks the same. I have a feeling change doesn’t come to this community very often. I keep that photo, too, and box up the rest. I’m surprised to find out that going through just the photos has taken up over an hour of my time. I get up and stretch for a moment, and am startled when I hear a scratching noise at the front door. I hesitantly crack it open and am greeted by Abram who mews his way past me and heads for the windowsill. He curls up as if he’s been doing this his whole life. I leave the front door open a crack so he can leave again when he’s done napping and head downstairs for a quick break. Now that Kerry is gone, I feel like I can be myself around Leigh and Emma.

  “Are you done already?” Leigh asks.

  “Oh, no. I’m just taking a quick break. Thankfully, Aunt Nola was very organized and I don’t think this should take me long,” I say. Leigh nods, turning her attention back to a bouquet she is working on. Yeah, that probably isn’t what she wants to hear right now. “I just went through a stack of photos. It was fun to see photos from her past. Do you happen to know how long Aunt Nola lived here in Ireland?”

  “I think for about twenty years, if not longer.”

  “I found a photo of her standing in front of the flower shop. It’s a great shot. I’m surprised she didn’t have it hanging up by the register. Does the shop bring in a lot of business?”

  “People here are very loyal to local businesses. We try hard to support one another when we can,” she says. “What do you think of this arrangement?” I study it for a bit.