by Dawn Edwards
When I returned, the door was opened. ‘Hello?’ I announced, knocking.
‘Come in,’ I heard, so I entered and placed the box on top of the other. Her room was very different from the rest of the house, tucked away in a far corner above the kitchen. Her room was modern, clean lines, and no knickknacks, with the exception of a few photos on her dresser and desk. The pale yellow and dark brown colors were solid, different from the floral themes from the rest of the house.
She emerged out of her bathroom wearing sweatpants and a Harvard t-shirt. Her hair pulled back, make-up removed and wearing glasses. She looked different but in a good natural way.
‘Is this your building outfit?’ I asked joking, and she gave me a curious look. ‘Well, you have a school look, a meet-your-friends look, errands look, now a building look.’
Her eyes went wide, and I got the biggest smile from her. The night was off to a good start already. I knew I sounded like a stalker and gave away that I paid her far more attention than my actions over the past week led her to believe.
‘This is my lounge look. I had to change, might have given you a peep show in that skirt otherwise. And that’s not something you want to see,’ she said, sitting down on the floor between her bed and her dresser.
I stood near her door, leaning against a wall. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow and whispered, ‘Don’t presume things you don’t know for sure.’ And I was back to flirting obviously. I couldn’t help it; it just came out with her. The comment threw her off, and she blushed. I laughed, and she started to open one of the boxes. She placed wood all about her and looked at the instructions.
‘You sure you don’t want any help?’ I offered, as she looked overwhelmed.
‘No, I think I’m fine.’ She sighed.
‘That’s not convincing, let's have a race, you do one, I do one,’ I encouraged, stepping into the room, kneeling next to the other box and starting to open it already.
‘Yeah, because that’s fair.’ She snorted.
‘Well, you keep saying you don’t need help, so yeah, I’m justified in my statement of fairness.’
‘Fine.’ She handed me a screwdriver. ‘But if we’re going to race, you have to do it with your left hand.’
‘Sure,’ I said, taking the tool and bent over to open my own box. ‘I’m left-handed anyway.’
‘Really?’ She sounded defeated.
I laughed at her. ‘No, but I’m really good at repetitive back and forth motions with my left hand.’ I winked at her, and she shook her head, laughing at me.
The room was bigger than any I’d ever had, including when I had to share with my brother or a flatmate in university. It was clear she had never gone without, but she seemed so different from those around her. The one thing that worried me was that she rarely seemed happy.
‘Is Brett introducing you to all his friends?’ she asked, knowing that I’d gone out a few times with him over the past few weeks into town for drinks in the evenings.
‘Yeah, they are a good bunch, reminds me of some of my mates from home. I really miss my other friends, feels a bit isolated here sometimes. So, it’s good to get out,’ I said but regretted it, not wanting to sound desperate, I didn’t want her to think that. ‘But I am really happy to be here,’ I added, wanting to assure her of my being here, especially here in her bedroom with her. ‘You have a lot of friends,’ I commented on the few people who’d stopped by the past week.
I placed the wooden pieces around me in an organized manner. It wasn’t my first time putting together an Ikea puzzle.
‘Well, I know lots of people, but honestly, most of them I don’t like all that much, some at all. The truth is, I have very few close friends and a lot of acquaintances,’ Jessa responded for clarification.
‘Quality over quantity.’ I nodded, I liked that.
‘Yes, except in my social circles there’s not a whole lot of quality to choose from.’ She moaned, being frank.
‘Why limit yourself to small circles?’ I asked screwing in the sides to the shelves.
‘I don’t limit myself.’ She looked to me as if I said something horrible. ‘My closest friends are Amber, whose family is like mine, and Zoe, who is my very best friend and she’s not wealthy, I mean, her family is upper-middle class, but not like this.’ She held a screwdriver in her hand and waved it around, shaking her head.
‘And Breton?’ I asked.
She laughed. ‘He’s well enough off.’
‘Are you guys good now?’ I asked seriously.
‘Yeah,’ she smiled. ‘I know he probably didn’t give a good impression that day in the parking lot, but I was stressing and really upset over something. You should know by now, working with him so much, he’s a really good guy and super down to earth. He gets protective sometimes is all.’
Her whole demeanor changed.
‘Boy problems?’ I probed, and by the way she recoiled, I could tell I hit the nail on the head. It wasn’t something she was prepared to talk about at the moment, so, for the sake of continuing to spend more time with her tonight, I changed the subject. ‘Why did you buy these?’ Looking around, I didn’t see many books or clutter.
‘Shoes,’ she said with a straight face. ‘And you’re going too fast, you’re making me look bad.’ She pouted.
‘It will take a lot more than this to make you look bad, and I can’t help it if I’m exceptionally good with the jerking wrist action.’ I mimicked a masturbating movement.
‘I take it you have lots of practice.’
‘So much practice, especially lately, it's pathetic.’ I smirked, I wasn’t going to tell her that a lot of the time I had to jerk off because of her, and she was the one I was imagining jerking off to. ‘Almost as pathetic as you are with that Allen key.
She looked to the screwdriver in her hand, and I reached over and picked up the Allen key from the floor, handing it to her as she snatched it out of my grip.
‘I’m not stupid,’ she protested, tossing the booklet back at me.
‘I didn’t say you were stupid; in fact, I’m going to say you’re rather smart. I see you studying or reading all the time.’
She looked up at me and blushed. ‘You watch me?’ she asked in a low shy voice, it was breathy and sexy as fuck. I had been doing well all night, keeping my dick to a low-grade hard-on, but when she talked like that, it went straight to my crotch and my dick was awoken. She had no idea she was even doing it, which made it all the more appealing. She had the whole innocent act down pat, but I had no illusions she was still a virgin, she was engaged.
Of course, I watched her. She was funny without trying to be, shy in a self-conscious way, and sweet just by her nature. I could tell by the way she was with her family and her girlfriends who had been around a few times. I could tell she just loved her family and a few of the friends she had mentioned she truly cared for. And the way she studied, putting so much work into it when she likely didn’t need the education to get anywhere, but she was determined to get one all the same.
‘It’s hard not to take notice,’ I told her. ‘We live on the same property,’ I deflected, trying to rein my dick in from embarrassing me. I was nearly done the shelf, I only had one side left to secure and then tighten everything.
‘What do you do in the evenings when you’re not helping useless girls like me?’ she asked me. ‘Or...um...exercising your wrist.’
The comment caught me so off guard, I was momentarily stunned, not able to answer. Replaying the question again in my head to actually make sure I heard her right. I did, and my girl was teasing and flirting with me.
‘Oh, so you admit to being useless when it comes to assembling furniture. Acceptance really is the first step,’ I teased, and she reached behind her and took a sandal and tossed it at me. I caught it. ‘Got to be better than that little Miss Cahill.’
‘Jessa?’ I looked up and saw her mother standing in the doorway. ‘Andrew.’ She nodded at me.
‘Hi, Mom. I got shelves for my sho
es, Drew is helping me put them together.’ She paused and then asked. ‘Is that alright?’
‘Of course,’ her mother said, walking into the room and laughing at her. ‘But perhaps Drew could lend you more of a hand with that one.’ She looked to the pile of wood still in front of Jessa
‘I’ve been offering,’ I told her.
‘Sweetie, let Drew finish, you should stick to your books.’
‘I think you’re wasting your money at those fancy schools,’ I teased. ‘The girl doesn’t even know the simple rule of “righty tighty, lefty loosey.”’ But by the look of Mrs. Cahill’s face, I saw she had no clue what I was talking about either. I just laughed at these kept women, they were something else.
‘Goodnight, kids,’ Mrs. Cahill said.
‘You too, Mom,’ Jessa replied as her mother left the room.
Jessa looked at me with a worried look. ‘What?’ I mouthed.
She put up a finger indicating me to wait. Then after a few moments, we heard a door close and Jessa said in a low voice. ‘I’m not really allowed “boys” in my room.’
I laughed, ‘And how old are you?”
She folded her arms in protest. ‘I’m 21, but they’re just old-fashioned.’
‘And protective, nothing wrong with that.’ I smiled at her but couldn’t help but wonder how that affected her and her fiancé's sex life, and, considering that they likely couldn’t get it on much, I had to agree with this rule. ‘I think it’s a very good rule.’
‘Then that means you shouldn’t be allowed in here either.’
‘See, I have a reason to be in here.’ I pointed to the shelves. ‘And besides, your parents love me. They don’t see me as a threat. Plus, you are engaged, and we all know I don’t stand a chance,’ I told her. Knowing for a fact that she was way beyond my league. As much as I liked her, there was little chance of her ending up with a guy like me.
But there was something about her, something pure, true and a little hurt, and I saw it in her eyes. I wished I could cheer her up, the way she seemed to light up other people. She could have anything in the world, yet over the past week I noticed she just didn’t look happy.
‘Do you like living over here?’ she asked me, sounding as if she genuinely wanted to know, and trying to change the subject away from her and back to me. She seemed interested in my life, and I was happy to share parts of me with her because it usually meant she’d be more willing to open up to me also.
‘Yeah, this is fantastic. I love my job, working with your parents is something I could have never dreamt of a year ago, hell, a few months ago even. So yeah, I’m really happy. You’re really lucky, you have an amazing family.’
She smiled and looked to the sky, looking as if she was having a personal moment.
‘You must really miss your family.’ She asked the question in the form of a statement as she looked at me.
‘Hardly.’ I laughed. ‘My family is a disaster.’
Jessa looked at me surprised. ‘How do you mean?’
‘I am nothing like my family, and I am so happy to be away from them. Even with a massive ocean between us, I still can’t seem to escape all the drama.’
‘What kind of drama?’ she asked, intrigued by the possibility of some gossip, then suddenly added, ‘Oh, sorry if that’s overstepping, you don’t have to answer.’
I just laughed at her. ‘I don’t mind sharing with you, Jessa, it’s ok. I’m not proud of my family, I’m the only one who’s done anything with his life, and I think they really resent that. They just do stupid things and make even stupider choices. But they never own up to it and take any responsibility. Nothing is ever their fault. I’m just fed up with always having to bail them out. I cut them off when I moved here, but they are still causing me headaches.’
‘Do you have a big family?’
‘I was raised, if you can even call it that, by my single mum, who had an on-and-off relationship with my nan. I have three other half-siblings, none of our fathers played any role in our lives. I’m the second oldest, I have a younger brother and sister, and an older sister.’
‘What do they do?’ she asked me.
‘Oh, they followed my mum into the family business.’ I smirked and saw the confusion on Jessa’s face. ‘Aside from my youngest sister, they don’t do anything, that’s the problem. My mother got pregnant with Rachel at 16, me at 18, Mark at 21 and Nicola at 25. She never worked a day in her life. See, the benefits system in the UK is profitable to single mums, it’s ridiculous. We grew up on council estates, like what you call projects here I guess, and now my siblings are pretty much the same, aside from Nicola. She has managed to go to college and now works at a salon, she’s at least trying and her fiancé is decent. They have a child and are making plans for the future, but my other siblings, they are just too much to deal with. They have a few kids each, use them for benefits payments. My brother has been in jail and has substance abuse problems. My mum defends him all the time and just constantly rags on me and Nic. Especially when we won’t give her money. I’ve changed my number so many times. They know I’m in America, but I don’t dare tell them where. I check in every few weeks, I call using an internet account. The less they know about me the better, that way they can’t fuck up my life any further.’
‘How did you end up so different from them?’
‘One of our neighbors growing up. East London is made up of a lot of different cultures and nationalities. When I was 10, we had this family from Iraq move in. They had a son, Ali, he was my age. He went to my school, and as he learned English, he and I became friends. His family was really good to me. I saw his family work hard and eventually got out of the council estate. I wanted out too, I stayed in touch with them. His dad was strict with school and stressed the importance of studying to get good grades. I was always good at school. So, I managed to do well in school, got into college and then uni. Ali and I both went to university in Manchester. I just wanted out of London. I knew if I had any chance to succeed, I’d have to move. Ali’s family really helped me, and he is still my best friend. I miss him, and his entire family, more than my own.’ It was the truth.
‘So, you went to university?’ she asked and then covered her mouth as she said it. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.’
‘Yeah, I’m not just a gardener. I know it looks like it, but I went to college first and did landscape design, and in university, I took electives in environmental studies and sustainability while completing a double major in botany and architecture. So, I am an architect but specialize in outdoor things, like yards, small structures, things like that. I’ll be doing work on your house next door over the winter, and other projects around here. Not going to lie, I’m really looking for more to start building a name for myself. I won the lottery when your father hired me, it’s a golden opportunity. He wants to invest in me, and between his business sense and your mother’s insights, I can’t think of two better mentors.’
She looked at me with bewilderment. ‘No one’s ever considered my mom a mentor before.’
‘Are you kidding me? She’s brilliant.’ I beamed.
‘That’s really interesting to hear. And sorry for the comment…’
‘No worries, trust me, I get it. You’re not the first person to think it, most people do. It’s ok, I’m not a snob about my degree or anything. It was useful, but mostly a waste of money.’
‘Tell me about it,’ she told me.
‘Well, I can’t compete with a Harvard tuition, you’ll win for the waste of money there, hands down’
‘Yeah, it’s not like I even use my degree for my job or anything.’
‘Yeah, must be nice to have a dad with a family business…’ I stopped, not wanting to overstep. ‘And you’re lucky to have your family. It’s no wonder you turned out so well.’
‘Thanks.’ She smiled. ‘I had a brother too,’ she stated, looking up to the ceiling again.
‘We lost him just over a year ago.’ She rema
ined looking at the sky. No one had mentioned him, not even Breton who was basically an open book. ‘They ruled it an overdose, possible suicide,’ she told me without any prying. ‘But he’d had no previous drug use as far as any of his friends were concerned, he’d never even smoked weed. Weeks prior, he had a go at Breton for smoking weed. So, it had never made any sense to us. What’s more, a day before he went to buy his girlfriend an engagement ring. People with those plans don’t off themselves.’
‘How did it happen?’
‘Autopsy report showed elevated levels of heroin and fentanyl in his system.’
‘Shit. I’m so sorry,’ I offered, at a loss for words. I was never good at these kinds of situations. I looked at Jessa, she seemed so sad and vulnerable. I wanted to take all her hurt away. I felt this protective urge with her from the first day I met her, and the more I got to know her, the more drawn to her I became.
‘Yeah, me too. Breton tried to look into it…doing what he does, but none of it fit together.’
‘What does he do exactly?’ I asked, trying to change the subject.
She smiled, ‘Breton is a procurer of information.’ She laughed.
‘Meaning…’ I prompted.
‘Like, private investigation stuff; he can get dirt, well-hidden, top-secret kind of dirt.’
I was shocked, I would have never guessed that about him. ‘Is he good at it?’
‘Very,’ Jessa said in a serious voice.
‘Does he do much?’
‘I’m not sure how much, but I know he does background checks, private and some corporate kinds of things. He’s very selective with his clients, always needs it justified to go digging into someone’s histories. I mean, it can be pretty intrusive, it has the potential to ruin someone. I shouldn’t have said anything, we like to keep his talent a secret.’
‘No worries, I signed an NDA.’ I shrugged. ‘Wouldn’t want to be his girlfriend, there’d be no skeletons there,’ I joked, and I was curious if he’d checked my history.
