Lock, Stock, and Over a Barrel

by Melody Carlson

  The big gray cat eyed her curiously as he sauntered out. Almost like he was saying, “Where have you been?”

  She reached down to scratch his head. “I guess you’re not such a bad guy. We just never hit it off, did we?” He rubbed against her leg as if to confirm this. “And now I’m moving away. Leaving you for a couple of girls.”

  Daphne went to her room and set her carry-on down. Everything looked exactly as she’d left it. With all the crates and stuffed closet, she had her work cut out for her. But she just wasn’t ready to attack it yet. So she poked around the apartment, trying to understand what had enticed her to stay here for twelve years. Except that she’d been stuck.

  As usual, Greta came home late from work. “Oh, I forgot you were coming back today.” She kicked off her shoes and set her briefcase on the table by the door. “Did you have a good flight?”

  “Uneventful.” Daphne set down the magazine she’d been reading. “Have you rented my room yet?”

  “I’ve got a gal who wants to move in as soon as you’re out.”

  “That will be on Saturday.”

  “Great.” Now Greta frowned. “Well, not great that you’re leaving, Daphne.”

  “That’s okay. I understand.”

  “Quite honestly, as roommates go, you’ve been one of the very best. And you know me, I don’t hand out praise lightly.”

  “Well, thank you.” Daphne didn’t know what to say.

  “And you probably already guessed that Shelby’s out with John Junior.” Greta flipped through some junk mail, tossing it back down on the table. “She’s certain he’s about to pop the question, but I told her not to hold her breath.”

  They visited awhile but, like always, it wasn’t a friendly warm conversation. It was more of an exchange of information about New York, the weather, Greta’s job status, and whether or not Oliver had been fed.

  “Sorry, I didn’t even think of that,” Daphne admitted.

  “I’ll feed him.” Greta slowly stood. “And then I have some work to do.”

  Taking the hint, Daphne excused herself to her room, and turning on the little TV, she tuned into HGTV. But this time as she watched, instead of being lulled into a vegetative state, she was excited to think that a real house and garden waiting for her back in Appleton—a house and a garden and two cats—needed her.

  The next day, she rolled up her sleeves and attempted to start the process of sorting her room. But instead of making decisions based on the three simple rules, she kept getting stuck. And being a procrastinator, it didn’t help to know she had several days to figure it all out. And that only allowed her the luxury of taking too long to examine every little thing. At the end of the day, she had packed one crate to ship home, with one small pile to give away, and even less in the trash.

  She was relieved to stop and clean up for dinner. Beverly had called earlier, saying that she and Robert had decided to fix dinner in their apartment instead of going out like they’d previously said. Daphne was a little surprised and slightly disappointed since she’d actually been looking forward to a good restaurant meal, but she figured it had to do with the expectant couple’s need to nest.

  She discovered shortly after arriving at their apartment that it had more to do with the expectant couple’s finances. “Robert made an offer on a house,” Beverly announced happily. “And it was accepted yesterday. So we have to pinch our pennies.”

  Robert opened a bottle of sparkling apple cider to celebrate, and Beverly showed her photos of a little, unimpressive-looking house. “I feel so bad telling you this as soon as you get home,” Beverly apologized. “But I knew you’d be happy for us. And I’m sure you’ll come out to visit and see the baby.”

  Daphne gave her a genuine smile. “I am so happy for you. It’s wonderful news—and what a sweet little house. Congratulations!”

  “Really?” Beverly almost seemed disappointed. “So you’re not bummed to see us go?”

  “Actually . . . I have a little announcement of my own.” Daphne quickly explained her decision to relocate to Appleton.

  “You’re leaving New York?” Beverly looked stunned.

  “Well, you’re leaving New York,” Daphne reminded her as she washed the lettuce.

  “Not like that. I mean, we can just hop on a train and be back here in a couple of hours. You’re really leaving. How can you bear to do that, Daphne? Won’t you miss the theater, the restaurants, the museums, the culture, everything? I can’t believe you’re settling for your hometown. That doesn’t seem like you.” Beverly peered curiously at her. “Is it because of us? Because we’re expecting . . . and moving from the city?”

  Daphne tried not to be offended by this assumption. She wondered if pregnancy might lead to narcissism. “Being back there reminded me of how much I love Appleton. And the town has changed and grown a lot.” She described some of the new businesses and how she loved being in the charming little town. “And it helps that my aunt left me her house. And I’ve been running into old friends and making new ones. And honestly, it’s just where I want to be.”

  Beverly looked uncertain as she stirred the spaghetti sauce. “That’s cool. If you really like it that much.”

  “What’s the house like?” Robert asked as he sliced a tomato. “The one your aunt left you.”

  Still feeling a bit defensive, Daphne went into full detail about the house, even explaining how the painters were there right now and how Olivia helped her to pick colors. Daphne even put down her knife and ran to her purse, getting the set of samples that Olivia had insisted she should keep handy in case she needed to make any shopping decisions, as well as her phone that had some photos in it. With enthusiasm she showed them, explaining her plans to make the home feel more like her own.

  The kitchen grew quiet as the three of them continued with food preparations. And so Daphne filled in the space, rambling on about Mick the Australian Garden Guy who’d discovered her sunbathing in her nightie and how he resembled Matthew McConaughey. “And the garden he’s making for me is incredible. And he took me to see his nursery last week, which was actually built on a farm that belonged to my grandparents.”

  “Cool.” Beverly put pasta into the boiling water. “What will you do for a living?”

  “That’s the best part.” Daphne was shredding lettuce into the bowl. “I’m going to start writing a novel.”

  “Really?” Beverly sounded a little cynical. “A novel?”

  “I don’t want to rain on your parade, Daphne.” Robert’s brow was creased as he chopped radishes. “But an old house like you described could be pretty expensive to maintain. And then there are property taxes and insurance and all sorts of hidden expenses. And what about your health insurance—when you’re self-employed you have to think about these things? Seriously, have you really thought this move through?”

  “And writing a novel?” Beverly frowned as she stirred the pasta. “Wouldn’t it be more prudent to do some freelance magazine articles instead? You know, like I’ve been doing? At least that would bring in a little income. Not enough to support yourself, but at least it would be something more dependable than selling a novel.”

  Daphne felt irritated by their assumptions. As if they really perceived her as their pathetic, incapable, needy, foolish friend. Was that how she’d come across all these years?

  “Expecting a baby and purchasing our first home has been a reality check for us,” Robert continued in a paternal tone. “Having to verify our income and project into the future—it’s made us realize our need to become more fiscally responsible.”

  “And that’s good you’re doing that. But my situation is a little different.” She set the bowl of shredded salad lettuce in front of Robert. “For one thing, I’m single and not expecting.” She laughed. “That alone makes my life much less expensive. But besides leaving me the house, my
aunt has been very generous in her will. And well, her estate was a lot larger than anyone imagined.”

  Hoping to lighten the serious atmosphere, she told them about the Corvette with low miles and how much fun she’d been having driving it around with the top down, even showing them a photo of the car on her phone.

  “You’re kidding,” Robert sounded slightly envious now. “A 1955 Corvette that’s hardly been driven? That’s unbelievable.”

  “So as you can see, there’s not really that much to be concerned about.” She smiled at both of them. “In fact, for the first time in my life, I think I’m learning how to have fun. I guess it’s about time, huh?”

  Holding a wooden spoon loosely in her hand, Beverly stared at Daphne with a hard-to-read expression. And then, to Daphne’s surprise and horror, Beverly burst into sobs, and without saying a word, she ran from the kitchen to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Robert cleared his throat. “Uh, Beverly’s been having some mood swings lately. It has to do with hormones and the pregnancy. But it should be getting better soon. The second trimester is—”

  “Excuse me,” Daphne told him. “I’m going to check on her.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t do that.”

  But it was too late, she was tapping on the door and then going in. “Beverly,” she said gently as she sat next to where Beverly was lying facedown on the bed. “Did I upset you just now? I didn’t mean to go on like that. I’m sure it sounded pretty arrogant. I only wanted to put your mind at ease, you know, that I’ll be okay in Appleton. I’m sorry if it sounded like I was bragging.”

  Beverly sat up with a tear-streaked face. “No, you were just happily telling me about your life, Daphne. I’m sorry to get so emotional.” She reached for a tissue, blowing her nose. “The truth is, I’m probably jealous. It sounds idyllic. The house, the car, writing your novel. Of course, I’m jealous. But I’m happy for you too. You deserve a break like this.” Beverly reached out to hug her. “You’ve been such a good friend to me—and Robert too—and I know your life’s been disappointing. I’m really glad for you.” But now she was crying again.

  Daphne stroked Beverly’s short, dark hair. “You are so blessed. You have Robert. And you two are having your first baby. A baby—can you believe it! That is so exciting. And now you’ll have a house to nest in. You have so much to be thankful for. We all do.”

  Beverly nodded. “We do, don’t we?”

  “Absolutely. And like your understanding husband just told me, you’re feeling hormonal because of the pregnancy. It’s natural for you to overreact sometimes.”

  “Yes, you’re right.” Beverly stood now. “We should check on dinner. And Robert.” She giggled. “The poor man. But you’re right, he is understanding. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s younger or just wired that way. But I’ve got a lot to be thankful for.”

  “You really do.” Daphne almost added that they both did but stopped herself. She didn’t want to set Beverly off again.

  For the rest of the evening, Daphne was careful to keep the spotlight of happiness on Beverly and Robert. And she didn’t even mind doing so. She was getting some new glimpses now and she sensed that their life was a little more precarious and a bit less perfect than she’d originally thought.

  After helping to clean the tiny kitchen, she could see that Beverly was tired and it seemed the perfect reason to excuse herself. Thanking them for the dinner, she prepared to leave.

  “I’ve got a lot of sifting and sorting to do back at my apartment. A friend in Appleton gave me some rules, but it’s still a challenge.” Daphne looked around the cluttered apartment. “I’d offer some of my stuff to you, but you probably have some sifting and sorting to do yourself. I mean, before you move to your new house.”

  “Hey, why don’t I come over and help you tomorrow?” Beverly suggested. “I don’t have much going on this week.”

  “Really? You’d want to do that?”

  “Sure. Maybe I’ll find something you’re tossing that I could use at the new house.”

  “That’d be great.”

  “And it’ll allow us to spend some more time together,” Beverly told her.

  But as Daphne rode the subway home, feeling more like a visitor than a resident, she hoped it wasn’t a mistake. What if having Beverly there just slowed the work down? Or what if she fell apart again? Daphne decided it wouldn’t really matter. Maybe the important thing was just spending a day with her old friend. Her old friend who was probably not quite as happy as Daphne had assumed.

  To Daphne’s relief, Beverly was in better spirits the next day and she was actually surprisingly helpful in the sorting process.

  “They say a trick to getting rid of stuff is not to actually touch it or hold it in your hands,” Beverly had explained early on in the process. “It’s a psychological thing. I saw it on a hoarders show.”

  Beverly would pick up an item and let Daphne look at it from a safe distance as Beverly asked her the three simple questions. And this system was actually working. But at the end of the day, instead of three piles, there were four. The send-home pile, the giveaway pile, the throw-away pile, and the Beverly-and-Robert pile, which had grown steadily.

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” Daphne told Beverly when they were done. “I never could’ve done this without you.”

  “You’re thanking me with all the cool stuff you’re giving me,” Beverly said as she continued bundling her pile into bags and boxes.

  “I’m also going to pay for the taxi to take you home.” Daphne tied off the trash bag she’d just filled. “Will Robert be there to help you get it upstairs?”

  “He should be home by then.” Beverly sighed.

  “Are you tired?” Daphne said suddenly, clearing a spot on the cluttered bed. “Here, sit down. Don’t overdo. I keep forgetting that you’re pregnant.”

  “Being pregnant isn’t like being sick.” Beverly sat down. “You’re supposed to stay active, keep doing what you normally do.”

  “Even so, you rest while I pack the rest of your stuff up for you.”

  “I’m really going to miss you,” Beverly said sadly.

  “At least you have Robert.”

  Beverly sighed again. “Yeah . . .”

  Daphne stared at her. “Are you okay? I mean, you and Robert? Is everything all right between you two?”

  “Sure. I guess so. It feels like things are changing. Despite always wishing for kids, I can tell I’m dragging my heels a little. And hearing about your life, being free and single and running around in your convertible, has probably depressed me a little.” She made an attempt to laugh. “You know, the old grass is greener on the other side.”

  Daphne laughed. “Do I know? I usually look at you and Robert like that.”

  “I really am happy for you. Appleton sounds like a perfect change.”

  “And it won’t be long until you and Robert are settling into your new house,” Daphne reminded her.

  “Yes . . . hopefully.”

  “I thought it was for certain.”

  Beverly shrugged. “Robert is trying to be positive about it, but we’re still having some problems with the bank . . . for financing. It’s hard with my income being freelance. They see us as some kind of risk.”

  Daphne remembered Robert’s fatherly spiel last night, warning her to be careful of her finances. Perhaps he’d been preaching to himself. “Well, hopefully, it’ll all work out.”

  “Hopefully. It’s such a nice house. I’d hate to lose it because of the bank. Robert has suggested we get some kind of private financing. Like our parents. Except that they’re not exactly rolling in the dough either.”

  She gazed at Daphne with a look that seemed somewhat expectant . . . or curious. “You mentioned a large inheritance . . . but it’s probably not enough to do h
ome loans.” She laughed. “And really, I would never ask that of you . . . of a friend.”

  Daphne set down on a pile of crates, looking earnestly at her friend. “Beverly, if I could loan you the money, I would. I really would. But my inheritance is kind of tied up for a year. My aunt had some conditions in her will. I’m not really supposed to talk about it though.”

  “Oh?”

  “The truth is, I might not even be able to remain in my aunt’s house at the end of a year’s time. If I don’t meet her, uh, her conditions.”

  “Really?” Beverly seemed slightly encouraged by this. “So after a year, you could be homeless as well as jobless?”

  Daphne gave a weak smile. “Actually, I could.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll land on your feet.” Beverly stood again, looking at her watch. “I guess I should get the rest of this packed up. Robert will be on his way home by now.”

  It was close to seven by the time Daphne got Beverly and all her stuff loaded into the taxi. She had just paid the driver and was waving good-bye to her friend when Shelby came walking up.

  “Hey, I thought you were home,” Shelby said cheerfully as they went up the stairs together. “But you must’ve gone to bed early last night.”

  “And you went to work before I was up this morning.”

  “Lucky you.” Shelby opened the door. “I can’t wait until I’m a lady of leisure and able to sleep in too.”

  “So how is it going with John Junior?” Daphne glanced at Shelby’s left hand. “Any talk of diamonds yet?”

  Shelby giggled as she set her purse down. “Not exactly. But I have hinted to him that the Fourth of July would be a nice day to get engaged on. Then we could be engaged for almost a whole year before we have a June wedding.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Daphne picked up a garbage bag. “I’m heading down to the Dumpster.”