Uncle Mel and Bob helped me to figure out how I can get all of my debt paid off in three years. Some of that is through a loan with Uncle Mel (I protested but I was shot down), and the rest through a debt management plan.
It seems that law enforcement people have connections in the delinquent financial circles. They called a woman they know who specializes in working with creditors to lower interest rates and monthly payments, in order to pay off all the balances in one lump monthly payment to her company. She’s going to work on the details tomorrow, but she gave me a good idea of what I would have to pay. Uncle Mel paid off enough so that I could get my payments to a manageable level. When I objected, he said he’s taking it out of my inheritance.
My inheritance. You would think I would have one, right? I was orphaned as a child. Unfortunately when my parents died, they left so much debt that the insurance money plus the equity in the house was barely enough to pay it off, and provide Uncle Mel with some money to support me until I could get a job. There was no college fund, not that I wanted one anyway. A couple of misguided years at the community college showed me I was better off just getting a job, and accepting that I would live from paycheck to paycheck.
I had never connected the dots before. My parents didn’t teach me fiscal responsibility because they had no experience with the course material.
To his credit, Uncle Mel did not bring up my parents or blame them. That’s why he’s my only relative. My parents were both only children, but there are other aunts, uncles, and cousins. All of them turned their backs on me and didn’t want to be associated with my parents’ shady lifestyle. To this day I don’t know if they were involved in anything criminal, or they just spent way more than they earned. One day maybe Mel will spill the real story.
But for now, I have my own mess to deal with.
Before I do yet another stupid thing and drop my phone in the tub, I hit dial and take a deep breath.
“That was a fine meal, Princess.” Uncle Mel reaches for his beer and turns his attention to Marcus. “We’re at Amanda’s for dinner because I can’t cook a thing.”
“I guess your partner can’t, either.” Marcus smirks and continues to tease my uncle about his relationship with Bob.
“I will have you know my partner is on a date tonight.” He points at both of us and says, “With a woman.”
I suppress a giggle as I start to clear the dishes.
“Amanda, wait. I need to clear the air here.” Uncle Mel stands up and starts pacing.
“Marcus, I can see you’re a fine young man, and I know you will do right by my niece. I am very overprotective, but I’ve had to be. She’s had a tough time.”
“I understand that, Mr. Ferguson.” Marcus leans back in the stiff kitchen chair and crosses his ankles.
“Call me Mel. And yeah, I can also be an asshole. I know that. Police work is tough, and I never had a woman to soften me up.” He stops and chuckles, looking wistful. “But you two kids need to make this work. Amanda, you know you have my blessing, and I am really not a racist jerk, and—”
“Mr.…Mel…stop, I get it. When I told my parents I was proposing, they were fine with it, but my grandmother asked me why I can’t find a nice black girl. It goes both ways, and I know that if Amanda and I get married we will always face some of that.” Marcus looks at me and says, “But now I’m not convinced this is why you are stalling with your answer.”
Uncle Mel and I rehearsed this, but we are not actors. I still need to explain why I didn’t say yes right away, and I am a bad liar. I refused to agree to telling Marcus the truth, even though both my uncle and Bob tried their police intimidation tactics on me. Not really, but they pushed. So we came up with an angle we could all agree on.
I will tell him some day, but I would rather do it when I’m in a better financial position. I figure if I can hold off on planning a wedding, maybe I can fix this problem, or at least apply a better bandage. Bad credit stays around a long time, but it may soften the blow one day if I can at least show progress on the debt. Right now, I still feel like a loser and a stupid girl. I can’t go into a marriage that way.
Waiting for me to speak, Uncle Mel says, “Okay, kids, this is my cue to check out. You’re both adults. Talk it out, and I’m sure come tomorrow I will see this little girl with a sparkly gem on her finger and a new fiancé.” He walks over to Marcus and extends his hand, “Congrats, Son. Welcome to the family. It’s small, but I’m countin’ on you to add to it.”
Marcus shakes his hand and my eyes start to burn.
Uncle Mel kisses me on the cheek and whispers in my ear, “Remember, you’re telling the truth…just a different one.”
The door closes and Marcus and I stare at each other across the kitchen.
“Can we sit down?” I gesture to the living room and Marcus follows me.
We sit on the sofa, and I take his hands. His big, strong hands.
“Yes. I want to marry you, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it right away. It hurts me so much that you thought it was a racial thing.”
“I know your uncle is your only real family, and I thought maybe he was really against it. But it didn’t add up because if that was such a problem, we probably wouldn’t still be dating.” He rubs my fingers with his thumb and gives me chills. “So what’s the reason?”
Here goes the story that is now reality.
“I need a new job. A new career. And I was worried that you would want me to get married right away, have babies. I hate my job, but I feel like a failure because I haven’t found my calling. After my parents died, I wasn’t able to figure it out, and I wasn’t a great student in high—”
Marcus grabs my hands a little tighter. “So you think I wouldn’t support you in this? I would love to help you find your passion. Other than me, of course.” He smiles and kisses me.
“I believe you. After I thought about it and talked to Uncle Mel and Bob, I realized that I need to grow up, and stop wasting my time. I love Pam and being her assistant is a good job, but it’s boring. I want more, but I don’t know how to get it.”
The truth is that once we started down this road as a good excuse for cold feet, I was faced with the fact that I do want to find a better job. A career. And just because I get teased for looking, and acting, like a Disney princess, I know my co-workers think I’m smart, too. Claire was the one who forced me to apply for the CEO’s admin job, or I would have stayed a receptionist forever.
And of course, part of my debt issue is my low salary. The only problem is now I will be forced to actually DO something about this.
Marcus grabs the black box off the coffee table, where he left it.
“I’m going to do this all over again.”
I smile and he drops down to one knee.
“Amanda Jane Ferguson, prettiest girl in the world, will you be my wife?”
“Yes!”
He places the ring on my shaky finger, and I try to clear my head enough to slow this moment down. I want to remember everything about it, so I can tell my friends and family tomorrow, and our children one day.
“Do you like it?”
“It’s amazing. It’s so sparkly. Princess cut, right?”
He raises an eyebrow. “What else would make sense for you?”
The night is perfect and we sit together on the couch a long time, before heading to the bedroom and a proper Valentine’s Day celebration.
As I watch my new fiancé sleep, my stomach tightens. Right before he drifted off, he said, “You’re sure there are no other reasons why you hesitated to say yes?”
I hugged him tightly and thought of all the reasons.
All 27,859 of them.
I wonder if I can get into law school.
THE END
Zoe’s Secret Crush
“Are you sure you guys want heart tattoos with your names? I mean, didn’t you just start dating last week? Let me see your eyes?”
“Hey, man, I’ve got money, and if you won’t do it, I’ll jus
t go to another tattoo—”
Our stoner customer seems to be offended at Axl’s questioning of his decisions, as his arm slides off the counter display and he almost bangs his head on the register.
“Noooo, baby. I want Axl to do it. He’s the best tattoo artist in town.” The girlfriend sways as she pouts at her man.
Axl is the best tattoo artist in Richmond. He should be. His parents opened this shop, The Tattoo Rose, before he was born, and he practically grew up here. He was sketching tattoo designs when he was four years old. And yes, his parents named him after Axl Rose.
Axl surveys the scene and runs his hand through his spiky black hair. “Listen…what’s your name, man?”
“John. And this beautiful lady is Melissa. We’re going to Applebee’s for dinner.”
Melissa’s skirt is bunching up around her waist and I can see her panties. It would be a good idea to help her. If I could just pull the hem down…
Axl gives them his extra wattage smile and says, “Yes, she is beautiful. And she will be just as beautiful tomorrow…or next week. And Applebee’s is probably going to get crowded early today. Valentine’s Day is a big date night.”
John open his mouth to protest and Axl continues. “I am happy to give you guys whatever tattoo you want, but I think for a girl this special you need a custom design. You don’t want a stock image on your bodies forever, right?”
“Yeah, I want a special rose tattoo. It’s the shop’s signature thing…”
John manages to catch her before she hits the ground.
“Can you get a cold rag from the bathroom?” Axl motions to me and I put down the magazine I was reading and rush to the back of the shop.
I’m glad Axl has the sense to refuse their business, and I love watching him schmooze the customers. He has many talents. As I grab a bunch of paper towels and run them under the faucet I think of some of the skills he performed for me…and on me…last weekend.
This shouldn’t be a problem. We’re both young and single. Yes, I work at his parents’ shop, and yes, our mothers are childhood friends. And okay…this is a lot of complication. I also moved here from Chicago two years ago to apprentice as a piercer, and I lived with the Rose family up until a few months ago. But it’s not like he’s a brother figure.
I quickly turn off the tap, wring out the excess water and run back to the front desk. Melissa is now laying on the couch in the waiting area. There is a nervous looking teen with her mother, probably waiting for me. The underage kids usually want piercings more than tattoos. Or I should say, their parents are usually more willing to allow them to put holes in their bodies instead of permanent ink on their skin.
“Hi, I’m Zoe. Have you been helped?” I address the mom while I shove the paper towel at Axl, who is trying to coax John to get Melissa out of here. She’s awake, but clearly needs to sleep something off.
“That’s it. Just pick her up. You know what, I will help you out to the car. Better yet, let’s call a cab. And when you guys are ready, I will give you the best Valentine’s Day tattoos.”
John is practically blubbering his thanks as Axl winks at me on the way out. I wanted to slip them a card for the drug treatment hotline, but who am I to judge? I just hope she’s okay.
I shake my head and sit down with the new customers to discuss what the girl wants done.
A few minutes later I have them set up in the piercing room, and make sure Axl is back before I get started.
“Hey, you’re back. Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s just out of it. Maybe they’ll think twice about putting each other’s names on their bodies once they sober up.”
He sits down on the stool behind the counter and glances at the time on his cell phone. “Another hour and we can close up. What’s that little chick in here for?”
“She just wants a small nose stud. And yes, I got their IDs and her mother signed all the permission papers.”
“Good girl.”
I turn towards the piercing room, and he says, “Hey, so how come you won’t let me take you to Applebee’s tonight?” He smiles and my pulse quickens.
“While that is a stellar offer, I told you. I’m babysitting for my friend and his wife. And I’m not sure—”
“I know, you’re not sure about what happened between us.” He stands up and walks over to me. Shit.
Closing the physical space, I can feel his breath. Only it’s on my eyelashes, since he is several inches taller than me. “Zoe, we need to talk.” He touches my chin. “Okay? It doesn’t have to be now, but soon. How about I drop you off and pick you up tonight? How late can people with babies stay out on a Sunday night?”
I bite my lip and take a tiny step backwards. “Good point. I guess I can leave my car here and you can bring me back to it later?”
“Babe, we own the place. You could leave your car here forever.”
“But won’t your parents wonder…never mind. We’ll talk later.” I take a bigger step back and turn. “I have to get back there. The girl could be in tears right now, or the mother could change her mind. We don’t need another Valentine’s Day meltdown.”
I rush to the back room before he can stop me.
Things with Axl are complicated, but he doesn’t even know just how complicated.
“Okay, Aurora just had a bottle, so she should be good for another four hours. I don’t think you will need to feed her. If she fusses, you can try the pacifier. Sometimes she needs to be walked a bit, too. Are you sure this isn’t too much?”
Claire is breathless as she zooms in and out of rooms, grabbing her shoes and purse, all while trying to secure her earrings. If she would just hold still for a moment, maybe someone could help her.
“It’s fine. I can handle it. I’m sure the baby will sleep most of the time, and I would love to hold her if she wakes up. And Aidan and I will play. Right, little man?”
Claire and Brandon’s toddler leaps off the couch and high fives me, as his mother winces.
“I can’t get this earring to close. I’m going upstairs to grab another pair. Brandon, Zoe is here!”
She yells in the direction of the kitchen, but I know he’s probably in the basement, finishing something up in the studio. We played our first out of town show last night, and Chain was met with much enthusiasm, and I know Brandon was eager to perfect some of our original tunes. On top of that, this is Claire’s birthday weekend as well as Valentine’s Day, so he’s got his hands full.
But who adopts a second baby when the first child is still a baby? Aurora is only a few weeks old and Aidan is only like fifteen months old. And then there’s the furry babies.
Speaking of them, here they come, following their master. Dixie and Duncan, the wiener dogs, are quite excited to see me, and immediately fight for belly rubbing position.
“Hey, Zoe. What’s up? You look bright and cheery. Didn’t you work today?”
Just as I start to answer, we hear Claire yell down, “Brandon, can you also take the dogs out?”
He rolls his eyes and smirks, “I just did that, Dear.” He addresses me and says, “She’s a little keyed up. I’m secretly glad she didn’t come to the show or she would be a complete basket case.” He whispers the final statement conspiratorially.
“Well, she does have two babies and a full time job, and some genius planned a show on a very important weekend.”
“I know. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thank God for her mother being here during the week. And her company for letting her work from home for a while. But I’m out of the doghouse now.” He gestures towards the bassinet and his sleeping baby girl. It was apparently his idea to go ahead with a second adoption.
I smirk and say, “So you still think if you surround Claire with babies and wiener dogs she’ll be happy, no matter what?”
He smoothes back his thick, sandy hair and his blue eyes gleam. “Not anything. But I did manage to weasel my way of the whole Diamond debacle.”
Diamond is their neighbor, and
last month she was coming on to Brandon heavily. He resisted, but Claire didn’t find out in the ideal way. On one of her many visits to the Harmon home, Diamond decided to leave a pregnancy test in their trash, and a pair of her panties in their bed. If she wasn’t renting Claire’s old house across the street, and if she didn’t have a little girl who loves to play with Aidan, she would have been history. Unfortunately for Claire, she is now dating Rob, the guitarist in our band.
It’s a small and complicated circle we live in, but no one knows how complicated it really is, and I’m not sure I can do it anymore.
“Yes, you did manage to finesse your way out of that.”
Brandon comes close to me and whispers, “Yes, I am very good at finessing.” He winks and plops down on the couch with Aidan and the dogs. “Where the hell is that wife of mine?”
I stare a moment too long and feel a little sick. “What? Oh, she’s upstairs getting an earring.”
“Just one?” He laughs and regards my serious expression. “Hey, are you okay?”
I sigh and remember to put the smile back on my face. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“So why don’t you have a hot date tonight?” Aidan is being too rough with Dixie, and Brandon intervenes before the crazy little wiener dog gets too aggressive. “Aidan, remember, we touch the doggies nice. Like this, see?”
Watching Brandon run his hands along the dog’s fur is eliciting an uncomfortable feeling. In what sick, twisted world do I get turned on by a man petting a dog?
“Well, about that. Well, not really that, but I did want to talk to you about something.”
I just made this decision, but it seems to want to jump off my lips now.
“I think I may need to quit the band.”
Brandon’s eyes widen and he says, “What? Why would you want to do that? And what does that have to do with Valentine’s Day? Hey, are any of the guys hitting on you? They better not be since they’re all married or in relationships.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just I think it’s time I focus more on a career.”
Valentines on the Edge Page 4