by Lindsey Hart
I can always sell it later. Laney dragged the dresser out of the back of her SUV. She had the mirror separate but left the drawers in. She thought about taking them out so it wouldn’t be so heavy, but it didn’t seem like it was worth the extra effort. She struggled, pulled and pushed, and finally got the dresser up to the front steps. She stared at it and heaved a sigh.
“I guess I’m going to have to take the drawers out after all.” There was no way she could get it up the steps, exhausted as she was from loading and unloading the trailer already.
She glanced around after, embarrassed that she was talking to herself, or inanimate objects, but there was no one around. It was so late that most of her neighbor’s lights were off.
Laney worked the bottom drawer out. It slid without any issue. She worked the middle one out as well and it too came off, with a bit of wiggling and tugging. She knew that wood was a living organism and those wood on wood slides didn’t always come easy without a lot of protesting if the piece hadn’t been kept at the right humidity. Even though it was hot and dry, the top drawer didn’t want to budge. It came open an inch and stuck hard after that.
After battling with the thing for fifteen minutes, Laney half wanted to just leave it there, but she was so annoyed with herself and with the drawer, it felt like it was admitting defeat to leave it. Laney stuck her hand on the dresser and braced her foot on the other side and gave one last tug. Just one more try. I can’t let it win. The drawer popped open an inch.
Laney let out a triumphant little cry. It was something at least. Sensing victory, she gave another sharp pull and the drawer gave another inch. She realized, on the next pull, that something didn’t feel right. The wooden slides weren’t just being sticky. It finally dawned on her that there must be something lodged inside.
With a shudder, she stuck her hand in. She’d found all sorts of nasty things in old furniture over the years and just hoped that it wasn’t something dead. Her hand hit something hard and slightly cool. Cardboard? It certainly felt like a box. She explored around a little more, chaffing her wrist between the drawer and the top of the dresser in the process. It really did feel like a box. Her fingers bumped against the corner and she raised her hand up. When she tried to pull the box, it actually seemed like it was going to come. She had to wiggle and tug, push and pull, but finally, the object gave way. It slid to the front of the drawer quite easily after that and since it was no longer blocking the drawer from sliding out, Laney was able to pull the entire thing out.
She stared at the box after. It was one of those old card boxes, the kind that Christmas cards used to be come in. The picture on the front was long since gone. She decided to wait until she was in the house to actually open up the box.
Once the dresser was settled in to the front entrance of the condo, where it barely fit, the drawers back in and the mirror on, Laney took the box into the kitchen. She set it down on the small island, made herself a cup of tea, and pulled out a barstool.
She stared at the box or a long time. Normally she wouldn’t have hesitated to pop it open and go through it, but the fact that it belonged to Hector, at least kind of belonged to him, gave her pause. She felt a little like an intruder, even as she reached for it. I’ll just see what’s inside. Maybe it’s just trash or maybe it’s nothing at all. Maybe it’s old cards. If it was anything else, she’d put the cover on the box and call Hector to say she’d found it. She’d ask him what he wanted her to do with it. If he didn’t care, then she’d go through it. She just didn’t want to be nosy or pry into things that weren’t her business.
Finally, after staring at the box for a few minutes, Laney decided she was just being silly. She popped open the top and stared at the contents inside. She didn’t move to touch anything. Her breath caught and it wasn’t until her chest started to burn that she realized and let it out.
“Letters,” she whispered into the stillness of her little kitchen.
She brushed aside the folded pieces of paper gently when a flash of something caught her eye. Gold. There were two gold wedding bands in the box, one thinner and smaller, the other thicker and larger. Clearly, they were a set.
Laney let out a little gasp and grabbed for the lid. She popped it back on, as though the contents of the box had the power to hurt her somehow. No, it’s not really that. It just felt… like she was intruding on something private.
It didn’t really make sense, the strange emotions flooding her chest, but she knew that Hector likely didn’t know that box was in the dresser. He wouldn’t have just given away something that had gold in it. Even if the rings had no personal meaning to him, he could have got money for them somewhere else.
The right thing to do would be return the box. Even if she was curious about the letters, there was no way she was going to let that curiosity get the better of her. It would just be wrong.
Instead, she picked her phone out of her purse. She didn’t even really remember setting it down on the counter and was surprised to see it there.
She flicked it on and went into her recent calls. Hector’s number was right there, below a few others that came in over the past day. Her finger hovered over the number and she finally hit it. It was late but she moved the phone to her ear. If he didn’t want to answer, she would leave a message. Even though it was nearly midnight, she just felt that she had to tell him about the box. She couldn’t explain the sense of urgency she felt, but it couldn’t wait until morning.
He answered on the third ring. His voice was deep and firm, masculine, distinctly his. There was no hint of sleep in it. “Laney?” The fact that he said her name and not hello… it tied her already tight stomach into a bundle of knots.
“Hector… hey. Sorry. I know it’s late.”
“It’s not that late.”
“You weren’t sleeping yet?”
“No.”
“Okay, good.” She realized she was rambling. Her eyes strayed to the box a few inches from her. “I- I decided to keep one of those dressers for myself.” He totally doesn’t need to know that. “I- I was putting it into the house and it was heavy so I tried taking out the drawers. The top one didn’t want to come. I realized there was something stuck in it… sorry I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. It’s like giving someone the story of your life when they didn’t ask for it. I- well I’m just calling because I found this box in the top drawer. It’s- it has letters in it, I think. But that’s not it. There are- uh- I found two rings in there. They look like wedding rings.”
The line was dead silent. She swore that she heard static crackle. Laney was about to ask if he was still there, but then she heard his breath, harsh and uneven.
“I…” he trailed off and said nothing else.
“I didn’t look at it for more than a few seconds. When I realized what it was, I put the lid back on. I promise I didn’t read anything in it or even touch anything.”
“No, I know you wouldn’t have.” His silent faith in her somehow gave her confidence.
“I want to give them back to you. I- I shouldn’t have called this late, but I just had this feeling that it couldn’t wait. I know that’s probably stupid.”
“No. It’s not.” He voice was even more gravelly than before.
“I can come in the morning. I don’t have anything planned.”
“No. I’ll come now.”
“Now?”
“Yes. I know it’s late. You can just wrap them in a bag and hang them from your mailbox and I’ll pick it up. I don’t have to bother you at all.”
You wouldn’t be bothering me. Even if you were, I want to be bothered. That just sounded wrong. Laney shook her head. “I… sure. I mean- if you- yes. Okay. I’ll hang them outside. Uh… unless- unless- it’s pretty late. I could make you a cup of coffee when you get here. It would be at least two in the morning and then you’d have to drive back. I- I wouldn’t want- well, it’s a long drive and it’s late. Or it would be early…”
There was a long pause. She was s
o sure he’d say no. “Yeah. A cup of coffee then.” She nearly fell off the stool in shock.
“Okay… I’ll have it on. Just ring the bell. I’ll be up.”
“Alright.”
“There’s a visitor parking spot in front of my condo.”
“Alright.”
“I’ll give you the address.”
“Alright.”
She realized she was rambling and that he’d said alright a hundred times, so she listed off the information and waited. The line was silent for a few more minutes, then Hector thanked her and hung up.
Laney was glad she was sitting down. She might have fallen over otherwise. Her legs felt like jelly, to the point she doubted they would even hold her up if she tried to stand. She had two hours to get that coffee ready. She didn’t need to move immediately.
Except all of a sudden, she felt like going into full cleaning mode. The house wasn’t a mess, but there were things to be picked up here and there. Shopping bags, clothes, dishes… she lived by herself and it showed. She didn’t even have a pet.
Her eyes strayed to the box. Whatever was in it, Hector obviously wanted it back. It meant something to him since he was willing to drive all that way in the middle of the night for it.
She knew. She just knew. A shiver stole up her spine. Out of all the furniture she could have picked, why that dresser? She might not have even opened the drawers. Ever. She didn’t really want it for storage. It was more just because she loved the piece and adored the mirror. But she had. She had opened those drawers. She’d fallen in love with that dresser and opened the drawer and found the box immediately.
Laney wasn’t a believer in fate or destiny or any of that stuff. She’d had too many failed relationships, too much shit luck, too many things go wrong, to actually believe that there was ever going to be something right.
That box sitting on the counter though, plain and old, neglected, hidden? It might just change her mind.
CHAPTER 8
Hector
Hector barely managed to keep himself together as he drove the old beat up pick up that belonged to his grandfather, into Houston. He had a list of directions beside him on the middle console. Since he didn’t actually have internet on his ancient cell phone, and just used what was at the house, he had to print them out ahead of time.
Between trying to navigate not only the traffic but his own downward spiral, he was exhausted by the time he pulled up in front of Laney’s condo. It was a nondescript building, unremarkable in that it was like all the rest. Vinyl siding on the exterior, tan, two stories, a small porch on the steps with a white railing and three concrete steps. The rest of the buildings circling the parking lot had the same exact look.
Being in the city made him long for the freedom of the country. He loved the farm with its rolling land, the little white house, the barn he was going to have to tear down.
He’d never felt so lost in his life. Not only was he going to put the farm up for sale but he also had no idea where he’d go after.
Even before he shut the truck off, he spotted Laney at the door. He missed the exact moment she opened it, but she stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the light behind her. She’d changed into a flowing green maxi dress. With all that orange red hair spilling down her shoulders, she looked like a goddess. The dress was the kind of thing that would be featured in a medieval painting. God, she looked like she’d just stepped out of the pages of time.
Maybe that’s why I can’t get her out of my mind.
He shut off the truck, gave himself a shake, and stepped out. He, on the other hand, hadn’t changed his clothes. He was out working on the barn, moving boxes into a storage shed without going through them so that he could begin tearing the thing down. He knew he was filthy and probably needed a shower, but there was nothing he could do about it. He’d literally dropped everything to come into the city.
“Hector,” Laney said softly. She stepped out onto the little porch.
He finally unglued himself from the truck and walked up the steps to meet her. She looked up at him and her flawless beauty, bathed in the soft yellow glow of streetlights and the overhead light that came from a thousand unknown sources in the city, nearly stopped him.
“I- I found your place.” It was a stupid thing to say. Obviously, he’d found it. He was standing right there on her porch.
“Good. I’m glad. It’s really late. Will you come in?”
“Yes. You promised me a cup of coffee after all. I need something to stay awake.”
“Oh my god. Please don’t say that. I’ll worry endlessly if you leave my house and I don’t think you’re going to make it.”
“I’ll make it.”
“I- well, come in. I’ll give you that cup of coffee. I made some cornbread muffins too. They’re sweet though. I don’t know if you like them like that. I should have made some that weren’t, but I was out of eggs, so I substituted applesauce and bananas and they turned out really sweet. They’re still good, but-”
“I’m sure they’re fine.”
Laney’s ramblings touched a soft spot inside of him. She reminded him, just a little of his grandma when she was well. Always fussing over him. He’d never forget all those meals she cooked for him and his grandpa. They always tasted so good when he came in starved from all the hard work. He missed that- having someone there. More than he missed the meals or anything else, he missed the conversation. The fact that someone had his back. He missed someone knowing him. Truly, truly knowing him. The house was really silent now that he was alone.
Laney stepped back inside, and he followed her in. The dresser that she’d taken from the barn was right in the front entrance. She glanced at him apologetically when he noticed it.
“Sorry. I haven’t taken it upstairs yet. It’s pretty heavy and I was tired when I got home.”
“Don’t apologize to me. It’s your house. It’s your dresser now.”
“I know, but…” she trailed off. Her eyes flicked to his face then danced away. Her hands clasped the flowing fabric of her dress before she let it go, leaving little creases in their wake.
“You picked the only dresser that had something in it, I would bet.” He glanced at the thing. Why that one? What was so special about it?
“There might be things in the others. I didn’t even think of that. I haven’t gone through anything. We unpacked it all into the back of the store where we refinish and clean things up for sale, but I haven’t looked in anything. I was exhausted, so I just came right home.”
He shrugged. “I just doubt that there will be anything in it. But if there is, you know my number. Or, if it’s trash, just throw it out.”
“I… alright. Come on into the kitchen. Do you take cream and sugar?”
“No. Black is fine, thanks.”
Laney’s place was small. There was a tiny living room off to the left of the kitchen. The entrance way kind of opened up into it and the kitchen just flowed naturally from there. There was no table since there really wasn’t any room. He pulled out one of the barstools and sat down heavily. He realized, too late, that he hadn’t removed his boots. He stared down at them, embarrassed. His grandma had been a stickler for boots being removed in the porch. They were usually muddy, or dusty at best, so her anger at finding them on in the house was justified.
Laney didn’t say anything about his boots, so he did his best to ignore them. Just like he ignored the fact that he wished he’d put on something clean or at least applied fresh deodorant. He felt old, sweaty, stale.
A steaming mug of black coffee was set down in front of him along with three small cornbread muffins. They’d been baked in one of those pans that wasn’t really a real pan. The kind that made miniature food, an inch or two wide.
He picked one up and tasted it. He managed not to close his eyes and sigh in contentment. They were still warm in the middle. His mouth flooded with saliva and he was reminded he hadn’t eaten dinner. He hadn’t even tried any of that peach pie Laney left
with him. After she left, he put the food in the fridge and buried himself in work.
She remained standing. She sipped at her own mug. It was pink and grey, homemade looking with irregular angles instead of being perfectly circular. Her eyes traveled to his left and he looked that way. His entire body went limp as he spotted a grey box. It did indeed look like something that cards used to come in. It was tall though, like it had been a jumbo pack, enough cards to last a lifetime. No wonder it caught in the tiny top drawer of the dresser. It was only a couple inches tall.
“That’s the box then?” He was afraid to move, afraid to breathe or do anything. It was irrational, that fear building inside his chest.
“Yeah. That’s the box.”
He laughed softly, surprising both of them. “Oh god… it’s just funny that out of all the furniture in the place, you’d take that one for yourself and find that box. You and my grandma…”
“Me and your grandma?” Laney looked at him in confusion.
“You would have liked my grandma and she would have liked you.”
“How do you know?” Laney’s coral lips turned up in a small smile. She studied him intently. He wasn’t used to people looking him in the eye when they talked to him. He wasn’t really used to talking to people at all.
“I don’t know. I just- I just think so.” He took a large sip of the coffee and nearly scalded himself. He didn’t choke or slam the mug back down, just swallowed it back and kept a straight face.
“Was it her who put that box there?”
“I would guess it was.”
“The rings… whose are they?” She paused and the start of a blush crept up her cheeks. “Or- uh- if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s ok. I understand. I’m sorry, I’m always being told that I’m too nosey and too pushy.”
“Who tells you that?”
“Oh, no one. Everyone. I don’t know. My friends sometimes. Other people here and there. My mom more often than not.”
Instead of taking another sip of the far too hot coffee, he opted to stuff another corn muffin in his mouth. He chewed and it gave him time to think. “I would guess the rings belonged to my parents. I couldn’t be sure though until I read the letters. But my guess is that their names would be on them too.”