Breathless

by Vanessa Marie

  "Ms. Evans, good to see you. Why don't you step into my office and we can discuss your account?"

  Charlie rolled her eyes as she followed him down the hall to his office, which was completely made of glass walls. He sat behind his desk and gestured to the seat across from him. She sat down and crossed her foot over her knee, bouncing it while she looked around his office.

  "So, what exactly are you looking for? My teller mentioned you're trying to get information off of your account?"

  "I didn't realize that warranted a trip to the principal's office." She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in the chair. Hostility probably wasn't the best way to go, but she was losing her patience.

  He laughed, unaware she wasn't trying to be funny. "So what information were you needing exactly?"

  "My grandparents set up my trust for me. I need to know if their names are still attached to it and if I could get a print out of the original documents."

  His brows pulled together and his mouth twisted to the side. He was obviously beyond confused by her request. "I'm sorry, Ms. Evans, but I can't give you that information."

  "It's a simple question. Are they on my damn account?"

  Nodding, he squinted before he spoke, like he was bracing himself for her to lose her shit. "They are, but I cannot release any of the names to you. They are on your account, but you are not on theirs and there are specific instructions on this matter."

  She smacked the arm rests of her chair, all hope fading. "That doesn't make any sense. If there is anyone on my account, I need to know who it is."

  "I'm sorry, Charlotte, but this is bank policy." The shift in his posture made him seem weak and uncomfortable.

  "Well, that policy is ridiculous and I will be cashing my accounts and transferring them to another bank that doesn't keep information from their customers."

  "We don't want to lose your business, but I can lose my job if I give you that information."

  "I'll be back later this week to close my accounts," she said in a low growl and walked out of his office.

  A damn name is all she wanted. It wasn't like she was asking for their social security numbers or their account numbers. A name. Why was it so damn difficult? She shoved the heavy glass door open as hard as she could exiting the bank into the sunlight. There had to be another avenue. Think Charlie. I wonder if her obituary will say their names. It has to.

  She'd already snooped through all of her dad's personal items and never found where he'd stashed her mom's stuff. That was a dead end. There wasn't anything online either. The archive in the library was going to be her best bet. Charlie jumped on her bike and took off toward the Main Street public library.

  ✦✧✦✧✦✧

  To say the library was a beautiful example of architecture at its best was the understatement of the century. Charlie sat in the parking lot at stared at the stone building, basking in all of its historical glory. She wasn't sure why she'd never been there before, but she knew it would definitely be a new haunt for her.

  A large round oak desk sat in the middle of the main floor with an older woman sitting behind it, wearing the most open, friendly smile she'd ever witnessed. "Hello and welcome. Is there anything I can help you with?"

  Nodding, Charlie took in her light blonde hair pulled tightly into a bun. Her brown eyes sparkled back at Charlie through her thick coke bottle glasses. "Actually, yes. Do you happen to archive old copies of the Charlotte Post?"

  The librarians face lit up and her smile revealed perfect white teeth behind her rosy heart shaped lips. "I do. How far back are you looking, dear?"

  "Twenty years?"

  "Oh boy. Yes, I do, but you're going to have to dig for them. Follow me." She led Charlie down a series of book shelves to a table in a corner in the very back of the room. "This is a microfiche Machine. All of the slides are on this bookshelf here. They used to be in order, but a lot of people never put things back and I haven't the time to fool with it."

  "That's okay," Charlie answered with a small smile. "I don't mind looking. All of a sudden, I kinda feel like Nancy Drew."

  "Well, in that case, I'm Mrs. Gruen. However, I will not clean up after you, young lady." She winked before she walked away.

  Charlie chuckled, remembering Mrs. Gruen was the housekeeper in the Nancy Drew series. She got to work pulling out different cases of slides. It didn't really matter what they were yet. She just needed to figure out how to get the damn machine to work.

  After a lot of trial and error and cursing under her breath, she'd finally figured out how to make the damn thing work. There was no rhyme or reason to the way the slides were filed. She looked for all of the issues on and around her birthday that she could find. Dropping her head onto her forearm, she let out a defeated sigh. I've been here all day and I'm no closer than where I started. Ugh.

  Charlie slowly started stacking everything back in order and putting it away except for the last stack she'd pulled out. She headed over to the Librarians desk, catching her name plate this time. Mrs. Clark. She looks like a Clark. How does someone look like a Clark? Focus Charlie.

  "Um, excuse me. Mrs. Clark?"

  "Yes, dear?"

  "Is it all right if I leave this stack out for tomorrow? It took me forever to find them. I'll be back in the morning."

  "Sure, sweetheart. I will see you tomorrow." Her smile was genuine and sweet.

  That night was a sleepless one. All she could dream about was coming across her mom's obituary. How morbid was that? The next morning she strolled into the library as soon as it opened, holding two cups of coffee, hoping Mrs. Clark was a coffee drinker.

  "Good morning. I hope you like coffee?" Charlie handed one of the cups over to her.

  "This is for me?" She seemed shocked that someone would do something nice for her.

  "Yes ma'am."

  "Well, bless your heart. Thank you. That is just so sweet!"

  "Anytime." Charlie smiled and turned to head off toward the back corner of the library.

  "Are you getting any closer to finding what you're looking for?" she asked.

  Charlie looked back over her shoulder. "I hope so."

  After three hours of slides, she didn't find any obituaries in the pile she'd set aside.

  It shouldn't be this fucking difficult.

  Sitting back in her chair, she rubbed her face in frustration. I don't think I'm ever going to find out anything about them. Maybe this is some sort of sign from the Universe telling me to stop looking for them.

  "You look upset, dear. Is there something I can help you with?" Mrs. Clark sat next to Charlie.

  "I just can't find what I'm looking for."

  "What is it exactly that you are looking for?

  She sighed, not wanting to meet the pity gaze she knew was coming. "My mom's obituary."

  "Oh dear," she said, putting her hand on Charlie's knee.

  "It's okay. I was a baby. There may or may not be information in it that I am looking for."

  Taking the bait, the librarian didn't linger with any more questions about her mom. "Have there been any obituaries in the stack you've gone through?"

  "Some, but not many. The filing is so screwed up—" Once again she wanted to stick her foot in her mouth and prayed she didn't offend the only person trying to help her.

  "There was once a system to it all, but so many people have gone through these and they never bother to put them back in the order they found them. Let me see if I can make some sense of it.” She looked at the different boxes.

  After a few minutes at the shelves, she handed Charlie a box. "Here look at these."

  "I'm sure you have better things to do than look through these things with me."

  "Oh, I don't mind. I want you to find what you're looking for. There aren't any reading groups today, so it should be relatively quiet."

  For three hours they looked at slides…And then they found it.

  Bingo.

  Angela Delgado, 24

  Charlotte,
North Carolina

  Beloved daughter,

  Survived by Javier and Gloria Delgado

  Funeral services to be Private

  Seriously? No mention of my dad or me? Maybe Callie's right. Maybe they are horrible people. What kind of horrible people just give over millions? At least I have their names.

  Mrs. Clark must have sensed her internal conversation, because she didn't say a word as they cleaned everything up in silence. Charlie jotted down the info into her notebook and headed over to the computers. She typed their names into Google and hit search.

  Nothing that relates to them. Shit. They aren't listed. Double shit. Why do I keep hitting walls?

  She couldn't help but lay her head on her forearm in defeat.

  "If I'm being too nosy, just tell an old lady to go away," she relented as she sat next to Charlie again.

  "No, you're fine."

  "What didn't you find, dear?"

  "I'm trying to find my grandparents address, but they aren't listed."

  "Move your skinny butt over and let me see that box."

  Charlie stifled a laugh, knowing all too well Jules would have been on the floor dying of laugher at the unintentional innuendo.

  "Things are always listed in public records. Let me see their names."

  She handed her the paper. Her fingers danced across the keyboard and she hit enter.

  1 entry found.

  She found them. Holy Hell. She found them.

  Mrs. Clark scribbled down their address and handed it to Charlie with a triumphant smile. She couldn't help but wrap her arms around her and squeeze.

  "Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me."

  "I think I just might, dear. I just might."

  Once she got home, Charlie typed everything into Google maps and pulled up directions and researched hotels that were near them. It was going to happen. She was going to meet them and come face to face with them. She had so many questions that only they could answer. It wasn't a matter of if anymore; it was a matter of when.

  ✦✧✦✧✦✧

  Jules needed to be needed. Okay. She got that. So, that's why she made sure he was the first person she told when she found her grandparents. She sent him a text.

  Hey, call me. I found them.

  A few minutes later her phone rang. She picked it up on the second ring.

  "Hey."

  "Found who?

  "Them." It came out a lot shakier than she thought it would.

  "Holy shit. How? I didn't think my mom gave you their names? Never mind; I know there's no stopping you when you want something."

  "I did a lot of research." Her nerves were on edge as she paced her bedroom floor.

  "Okay, so what did you find out?" To her surprise, he actually seemed interested and not as against it as he was when they'd first talked about it.

  "Well, they live in Charlotte and they're names are Javier and Gloria. I have their address, Jules."

  "Are we going on a road trip?" The pep in his voice startled her.

  "Um. I am but I think I'm going to ask Sam to go with me."

  He huffed. "Here we go."

  "Will you let me finish?"

  "Fine. Whatever."

  "Your mom may not be able to stop me from going, but do you know what she'd do to you if you go along with this? I've put you in a lot of bad positions with my decisions lately and I don't want to do that to you again."

  "Does Sam already know you found them?"

  A slow smile crept across her face and she came to a stop in front of her bed. "Nope. You were my first call. I know it seems like I didn't hear you the other night, but I did. I thought about it a lot and I think it's best to keep you out of this one."

  He huffed again and there was a long pause. "Okay.... He’s at least going with you, right? I don't want you walking into the lions den alone." His concern was pure and didn't seem to be laced with any jealousy.

  "Yeah. I figured I'd talk to him about it later."

  "Well, let me know how it goes. I need to get off here. Mom's calling for me."

  Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She was afraid he was going to spill her secrets. "Don't tell her, please."

  "I wish you had a little more faith in me. I'm not going to say anything. I'll talk to you later."

  "Kay. See ya." She hung up and flopped on her bed. Charlie felt like a complete asshole for not having more faith in their friendship than she currently had. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why the hell she was so emotional and all over the place. Hopefully, it was just PMS.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Charlie rifled through the kitchen cupboards looking for a snack. She was like a bottomless pit lately and figured it was from all the stress. What the hell do I want?? Sweet and Salty...hmm.. Nachos! She pulled out everything she'd need to make her signature chicken nachos and spread it out across the granite counter top.

  "Whatcha makin?" Joe asked as he opened the fridge and pulled out a beer.

  "Notcho Chicken Nachos," she said wearing a smirk.

  "You better share."

  "What is it with you people and sharing all of a sudden?" She pulled out a skillet and dumped half a bag of diced chicken into it.

  Joe hopped up on the opposite counter and popped the top off his beer with heel of his boot. "Coolest shoes ever," he muttered.

  Shaking her head, Charlie glanced back at him. "Only you would have boots with a beer opener in them."

  "Hey, I could have used the edge counter top again."

  "And I would have killed you—slowly—for messing up my granite. Sometimes, I think you forget that you're supposed to be the responsible one."

  He took a long drink and smiled at her. "You know...you've been even grumpier than usual. Are you PMSing? Do I need to go buy you some things with wings and a giant Hershey bar?"

  Charlie thought back to the first time she'd ever gotten her period and it made her laugh.

  "What's so funny?"

  "Remember when I got my period for the first time?"

  "Oh God. Yes. It was awful. I tried to get some lady to help me in that isle but she called me a pervert and walked off."

  They laughed. "Yeah, and you bought one of everything. I think there were even depends in the bags you brought home."

  "I'm still trying to figure out why they say those things have wings? What the hell do they do? Fly? It's absurd."

  Charlie laughed. "You remembered the most important thing, at least."

  "The chocolate. Yeah. I figured that might make your head spin in a circle a little less. No father should ever have to experience that alone. I thought I was going to need a priest for an exorcism, and we're not even fucking Catholic." He faked a shudder.

  "You? What about me? You gave the worst puberty speech in the history of speeches."

  "Hey. I did the best I could. It's not like I had Youtube and Google for help back then."

  "True." Even though Callie had to walk her through everything from thousands of miles away...Charlie knew that Joe did his best. It was just funny to look back on how uncomfortable he was but it didn't stop him from getting her everything he thought she'd need. Now he just asked her if the Lady Devil was coming every time she was in a bad mood.

  Dicing the tomatoes, green onions, and avocado, she worked around the kitchen making a giant plate of nachos just for herself.

  "I hope to God that's for both of us. It could feed five people."

  "Hell no! It's mine old man. The only person it's going to feed is my belly."

  "You better make me one too. You don't want me to die from starvation do you?"

  Joe stood close to 6'4" and was a wall of a man. His black hair and light blue eyes offset his olive skin tone. Starving was one thing he wasn't.

  She groaned and shoved a mouthful of nacho goodness into her mouth before she started to make his plate. It was like heaven on her tongue. As she made him food, Charlie started to wonder if it was her time of the month or not. Her perio
ds had never been regular. So the whole twenty-eight day schedule didn't work to try and count it out.

  Fuck. How long has it even been?

  Her eyes went wide when she couldn't remember. Nausea made itself known. Fear. This is all just a misunderstanding. My body is stupid. This isn't real. It can't be.

  "Charles, are you okay? You look like all the blood just drained from your face.” Concern pulled at his eyes as he hopped off the counter and walked over to her.

  "I... um. I'm fine." She slid her plate over to him, no longer hungry.

  "I thought you were starving?"

  "I was, but I feel sick now. It’s probably my meds. You eat up."

  Charlie left the kitchen before Joe could say another word. I need to call Sarah.

  ✦✧✦✧✦✧

  Three minutes. That's all it was going to take for her life to possibly change forever.

  What gives a stupid piece of plastic so much power anyway? It doesn't matter. It's just to prove a point. Nothing earth shattering was going to come of it. Or was it?

  Charlie paced her bedroom floor, chewing on her fingernails. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her heart pounded so hard in her chest she was almost positive it was going to explode. This isn't real. This can't be happening. It’s just a means to an end. It doesn't mean anything.

  The ding from a timer stopped her dead in her tracks and she stared at Sarah, who was silently watching her from the bathroom. "You look like you've seen a ghost," Sarah pointed out. "Are you going to look or do you want me to?"

  If she looked at that stupid little white stick, her life could change. It could be over. There was a possibility it would be her death sentence. She'd be repeating her mom's history. She always knew she'd die young, but like that? Not something she'd anticipated.