She opened the refrigerator and frowned at the emptiness. Someone’s leftovers from dinner, covered in foil, and not much else. The pantry wasn’t as well stocked as she’d like, either - some cans of alphabet soup, three packs of instant noodles, and a third of a pack of rice. Not much to work with. They’d have to find money somewhere to go grocery shopping, especially with Delilah staying with them now.
The kitchen light flicked on, revealing Luke and Felix in the doorway. “Hey,” Luke said, sitting at the table. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“No. You either?”
Felix shook his head. “Too much on our minds. Either that, or Luke is snoring too loud. Hard to tell.” His big, mischievous brown eyes twinkled.
“Oh please,” Luke said, shoving him playfully. “As if you aren’t like, the loudest Bear ever.”
“Whatever, man. Your snoring could wake the dead.”
Cat nodded. “It’s true. Sometimes I hear you in my room.”
“Check the freezer,” Felix said, a grin spreading across his face. “We might find a nice midnight snack in there.”
“Oh really?”
“Something I brought home from my apprenticeship today.”
“How’s that going, anyway?” Cat asked, pulling at the freezer door. There was a mysterious box inside.
Felix nodded. “Good. In a few weeks they’ll start letting me help out on the big catering jobs. They’ll need the extra help for holiday parties and stuff.”
“So what is it?”
“Open it!”
She set the box on the counter and pried up a corner with her fingernail. “Whoa, is this chicken parmesan?”
“Yeah. There’s enough for all of us, if we share.”
“What about Anita and Delilah?”
Felix shrugged. “We can save them some, I guess. Put it in the microwave. Actually, no, I’ll do it. I bet you’ll have it on too high and dry it out.”
“Oh ho ho, master chef,” Cat said with a laugh. “You’re already putting my mediocre cooking skills to complete shame.”
“It’s not like it takes much,” he said, emptying the box onto a plate and putting it in the microwave. “You manage to burn water.”
“That was one time.” Cat sat back down and rubbed her eyes. “How about you, Luke? How are things?”
“Yeah, good. Learned some drywall today.” He looked down at the floor. “I was thinking maybe eventually I might try to go to school to be an architect.”
“You should!” she shouted excitedly. “How cool would that be?”
“It’s a ways off, don’t scream the house down and wake everyone up,” Luke said nonchalantly. “It’s just something I’m considering.”
“Well, whatever you decide, we’ll make it happen one way or another, okay? I mean, hell, apparently with Felix’s job we’ll be eating like royalty.”
“Don’t expect this every night,” Felix said, depositing the plate and several forks onto the table. “But I’ll do my best when there’re extras.”
The chicken was moist and succulent, the cheese stringy and delicious. It was the best meal she’d had since the pasta at Andie’s. Her heart ached at the thought. “I don’t know if there’s going to be any left when we get through with it,” she said, diving in with her fork for another bite.
“The hell you say,” Anita said, snatching the fork from her hand as she leaped into the kitchen, looking like she, too, hadn’t slept. She shoved the bite in her mouth, laughing.
“Bitch,” Cat griped, taking the fork back. “You could have just asked.”
“Scoot over, I want some,” Anita said, perching on the arm of Cat’s chair. “You could at least tell a Bear when you’re foraging at midnight.”
“We thought you were sleeping!”
“Yeah, right. This is so good, I can’t even blame you for trying to hold out on me.”
Luke blocked Felix from taking another bite. “Maybe we should wake up Delilah, she might want some.”
“I’m already awake,” a small voice said from the other room. “I just didn’t want to be rude.” She appeared in the doorway in her mismatched, ill-fitting pajamas.
“Did we wake you up?” Cat asked.
“No, I couldn’t sleep.” She eyed the plate curiously. “Can I have some?”
“Here, take the rest of mine,” Luke said, giving up his seat.
Cat gave her fork back to Anita. “We’re going to have to figure out how to get you back in school. If someone from the foster system finds you here, we could get into trouble.”
“I don’t want anyone to get in trouble because of me. Maybe… maybe if it comes to that, I should just go back with them. Though I’m not sure my foster parents want anything to do with me anymore.”
“They’ll take you back to those people over my dead, grizzled body,” Cat growled. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Luke stepped up behind Delilah and laid a protective, brotherly hand on her shoulder. “You’re with us now. You’re family.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Andie swung open the door to her apartment building, triumphant. She couldn’t believe that she managed to pull that off. It was the first good news in days, since Cat all but told her to go and screw herself. Despite her anger, she kept checking her phone, only to be disappointed to find an empty screen. Climbing the steps to her apartment, she enjoyed the feeling of her camera bag over her shoulder again. The week without it had been devoid of any energy or excitement… except for the date with Cat. That had been magical.
She shook her head. No. No more of that. Distracted, she nearly tripped over the cloth tote bag sitting on her faded welcome mat. No one was around who could have left it, the hallways were quiet. Had it been left by a neighbor? Andie slid her key into the lock and pushed into her apartment, nudging the bag in with the toe of her boot. She hoped it was Christmas cookies from the apartment upstairs; last year the teen boy who lived there made the most beautiful macarons she’d ever seen, perfectly round and pink, lined up in orderly little rows.
Holding the borrowed camera in her hands, her creativity and enthusiasm surged through her fingertips. Finally, she was feeling like herself again. The woman behind the lens. She peered through the viewfinder, pointing the camera at Daisy’s cage. “Daisy!” she called. “Look at me, sweetpea!”
Daisy rolled over and went back to sleep.
“I bet you’d pose if I had a box of treats,” Andie muttered. But a photo of a chinchilla wasn’t going to win a wildlife photography competition, especially not a lazy one in a cage. “I also bet as soon as I pull your dinner out, you’re going to get very excited.”
She rummaged through the fridge, frowning. “Not much left dinner left in here, Dais.” The chinchilla stirred, giving little squeaks. “Oh, sure, that you understand.” The last of the lettuce leaves were for Daisy, not that Andie really wanted a salad, anyway. She set them in the cage and gave the chinchilla gentle pets on the head. “Don’t think you’re getting out of movie night, either.”
The bag was still sitting by the door. Andie grabbed the handles and peered inside, almost able to taste the cookies. “The hell?” she muttered to herself. Dropping the bag to the floor, she removed two long, flat trays of dirt, along with a note.
“Water when the soil is dry to the touch. Place in north-facing window. Lettuce seeds for Daisy.
-Cat
PS: I’m sorry.”
If this was her idea of an apology, it sucked. A thoughtful gift of lettuce plants wasn’t going to undo the fact that Cat had destroyed Andie’s camera on purpose. An accident was one thing, especially in the midst of chaos, but for her to intentionally smash it? To Andie, that was almost unforgivable. It was her career, her life. It’s not like it was a carton of spilled milk she was upset about. She zipped the camera back into the padded bag and flipped her phone around in her hands.
Was she being too stubborn? After all, this was obviously an olive branch from Cat, an attempt to make peace after their ter
rible argument. Andie poked the damp soil. It was a cute gift. Daisy would get some use out of it, if Andie managed to keep the plants alive long enough to harvest some leaves.
Of course Cat smashed the camera. She has to protect the other Bears, Andie understood that. But to lie about it? To not say anything, even after the fact, before their date? Andie scowled. What the hell was Cat’s game, anyway? She wasn’t sure if she felt more used or heartbroken. Lettuce seeds. It was laughable.
Yet, part of her wanted to text Cat immediately, to invite her over, to kiss her soft, warm lips and hold her in her arms. Her hand hovered over her phone. No. Her emotions were still too jumbled for this. It was too… complicated.
Daisy munched noisily on the leaves, scrabbling in her cage. For her own dinner, Andie made some instant noodles, again, the savory chicken flavor like ash in her mouth. Not even the last of the hot sauce could save the taste. Someday, she’d be able to buy her groceries without having to add each item to the calculator in her head, doing her best to account for the tax that would be added at checkout. She shoveled another forkful in, trying not to taste it. The spaghetti she’d shared with Cat was long gone, and so was the potential for their budding relationship.
* * *
“Andie!” Mara shouted excitedly, waving from behind the counter, now festooned with a wreath of fake holly and accompanying plastic pine boughs strung from one end to the other. The cafe was warm and inviting, the yellow-tinged lights glowing in the window. Even the bells on the door sounded more festive, despite their sameness.
“Hey.”
“I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you in here!”
Andie scrunched up her face. “It’s been, like, a week.”
“Well, maybe we miss seeing you around here.”
“My camera got smashed, so…”
“You don’t think we only like having you here because you take pictures for our social media, do you?” Mara asked, bemused. “Andie, I like you because you’re my friend.”
“Oh. I guess I didn’t think you thought of me as a friend.”
“You’re more than just your job, you know.”
“Hmm.” Andie unzipped her camera bag. “We should get some photos of the decorations, I bet people will love that. Here, stand behind the counter like you’re about to serve someone. Perfect.” The shutter of the borrowed camera swished closed several times before she stood back, scrolling through the gallery and admiring her work. “Not bad.”
“So if your camera got wrecked, what’s that around your neck?”
“Rental. Kind of.”
“Sit on the stool here, I’ll fix you something.”
“No, no, I’m fine—”
Mara took one of the large ceramic mugs from a hook. “Shh. I’d say it’s on the house, but someone already pre-paid for the next time you came in.”
“Who?”
“I was told you’d know who it was from.”
Cat, thought Andie.
“I was also told you might like one of these,” Mara said, pushing a bear claw on a plate across the bar.
“Well, I’m not going to turn down my favorite food, am I?” It was still a hollow gesture, but at least this time it was something Andie could eat.
“Coffee?”
“Tea, if you have it. Green.”
“You know we do!” Mara poured steaming hot water into the mug, releasing the scent of lemon and honey along with the earthy green tea. “So tell me about this kind of rental camera. Did it fall off the back of a truck?”
Andie laughed. “No. It’s from the camera shop a few towns over. You know it?”
“Yeah, in the strip mall next to the movie theater.”
“That’s the one. Well, after a week without my camera, I was starting to get a little desperate. I drove up there a couple days ago, to see if they’d consider renting one out to me, even though they don’t really have a program like that.”
“And it worked!”
“Well, kind of,” Andie grimaced. “I had to agree to teach their intro to digital photography class for teens on Saturdays.”
“Only you could walk in somewhere as a customer, and leave an employee.”
“I’m not going to be working there, it’s too small a place. But it’s lucky I’ve spent the past decade going there instead of the big chain place in Bloomingvale, at least they knew I wasn’t lying.” She sighed and blew on her piping hot tea. “At least I’ve got a camera back in my hands,” she continued, “if for no other reason than I get to take pictures for Jazzy Java.”
Mara snorted. “Please. Some day you’ll be some big shot photographer, you won’t have time for us anymore. You’ll be off taking pictures of rare animals in the restricted areas of national parks, thinking about how boring your life was when you traded photos for coffee here.”
“I’d never call Jazzy Java boring!”
“We’ll see. So tell me about this class you’ll be teaching. How many kids? Will you get paid?”
“It’s not paid. It’s a community outreach thing, to get kids from the community to come learn to take pictures for free. They asked me to do it in exchange for the rental camera.”
“Professor Andie Zanetti. It has a ring to it.”
“I’m no professor. I’m just glad it worked out. It feels like it’s a one-in-a-million thing.”
“Speaking of which…” Mara trailed off.
“No.”
“I’m just saying, she seems into you. And she’s cute!”
“Yeah she’s probably like, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but it’s not going to work.”
“What? Why?”
“She doesn’t like that I work for that real estate development company.”
Mara frowned. “The one that won the bid to build that new place over by the reserve?”
“Yeah.”
“Listen, Andie, I wasn’t going to say anything, but…”
“But what?”
“You know that company has big ties with Syndicorp, right?”
“Well sure, I assumed, given they won the bid. I think I heard that they did some work together before, out in Tucson or something.”
“Syndicorp owns a majority stake in that development company.”
“Oh.”
“And that development company owns this building. Andie, we got a letter four days ago that our rent is going up two hundred percent.”
“What? They can’t do that!”
Mara shrugged. “They said what we’ve been paying ‘isn’t in line with the current market rate,’” she said, making air quotes with her fingers, her nails painted red with white snowflakes for the season. “It was baked into our initial contract, but we never thought they’d raise it that much all at once.”
“Bastards.”
“If we can’t argue them back down to something reasonable, I don’t know if we’ll be able to stay open. We were only just starting to make a little bit of profit, you know?”
“Is there anything I can do?” Andie asked.
“We’re thinking of starting a petition, but I don’t know how much good that will do. What are your contacts like over there? Do you know anyone who might be able to help?”
“I don’t know many people, but I can definitely try. You’ve worked too hard on this place for them to close your doors like that. Haven’t they noticed all the empty places around here? Market rate, my ass, Applefield is hardly some bustling metropolis.”
“Do you think you could talk to them tomorrow?”
“Of course I will. I have to meet someone at the office anyway, to let me into one of the properties that doesn’t have a lock box with the key. I’ll ask them what exactly they are thinking, what a totally bone-headed idea to raise your rent. Who’s going to be in here, if not for you?”
Mara wiped the bar with a clean rag, scrubbing at a small sticky patch where a coffee syrup had dripped. “Probably a big chain, if our new landlords are to be believed.”
“With all those burnt coffee grounds?” Andie made a face and stuck out her tongue. “No, thanks.” She bit into the bear claw and relished the sugar rushing to her head. Was there anything more satisfying than a pastry? “We’ll figure it out, we have to.”
“I hope so. I’d be heartbroken if I had to close this place.”
“Yeah, where else would I get bear claws like these? I don’t know what you put in these, but they’re addictive as hell.”
“Sugar. And lots of butter.”
* * *
“Morning, um, I’m the photographer for today,” Andie said to the bored receptionist.
“You’re early? Your agent isn’t here yet.”
“No, I know I’m early, I was wondering if I could talk to someone about a commercial rental property.”
The weedy, thin man looked over his rectangular glasses at her and sighed. “You’d have to make an appointment. Obviously.”
“I just had a few questions, that’s all.”
“You can make an appointment through the portal on the website.”
“It would only take a minute. It’s for a friend.”
“Well, then, your friend can make an appointment.”
Andie chewed the inside of her cheek. “I promised her that I’d ask for her, seeing as I already work here.”
“You shouldn’t have promised that without making an appointment.” He glanced at the clock on the wall, then turned his glare back to Andie. “And according to your ID badge, you’re a contractor, you don’t work here. Not really.”
“I’m here almost every day, of course I work here.”
“My suggestion would be to request an appointment. Online. Through the portal.”
“Fine,” Andie muttered, whipping out her phone. “I’ll just make one right now.” She scrolled through the website, looking for the contact form. The man raised an eyebrow at her as she typed furiously, and then sent it.
His computer chimed softly. “It sounds like you have an email,” Andie said smugly.
“We don’t have any appointments today,” he said, without looking at the schedule. “Bad luck.”
“You didn’t even look!”
“Because I, unlike you, do work here, and I know there are no appointments available until the new year.”
Christmas, Pursued by a Bear Page 11