“This isn’t working. I’m still messed up over this. Talking to you was a mistake. I have to go.”
“Don’t go. I’m sorry.”
“It’s too late. I want you out of my life.”
I stalked off, got into my car and drove away. For the second and final time I was done letting Linda lie to me. I was tired of the lies. The meeting with Linda turned out to be a good thing. It helped me decide what my next move would be regarding Brandi and James.
Chapter 7
A Cruel Fate
I descended the stairs of the police station, feeling like I’d betrayed Brandi and James by telling Detective Tanner what I knew. But worse, there was still someone who’d died because of a poor choice. There was still his family to consider. Not only had I done the right thing, but I wasn’t interested in getting in trouble for anyone. Whatever happened after that, I didn’t want to know. It was time to get out of Colorado and start a new life for me.
When Tuesday came, I awoke euphoric. I was eighteen! Finally! This was it. I was going to be free. It was time for me to focus on Reyersen and my career.
Night had settled in the skies as I turned on the lights on in my house. I checked my phone. 8:40 p.m. “My parents should be back by now.”
“How long have they been gone?” a girl asked.
“Two hours. They had to pick up a last-minute birthday present.”
“It’s probably something special. I mean you are eighteen now. Maybe you’re getting a car?” said another girl.
A strong odor, part cat pee, part skunk assaulted my nose.
I looked in the direction it was coming from and followed two of my friends towards the bathroom. “Are you psycho? Smoking weed in here. My parents are going to kill me.”
Larry, a boy I’d worked with on stage, coughed, releasing a puff of smoke. “We’re sorry, O. We only wanted a quick hit.”
I fanned at the smoke. “A hit. You look like you’ve had more than a hit.” I ran to open up the windows and turn on the ceiling fans. I faced Larry as he fell softly against the wall, his eyes the color of his red t-shirt. He was in a pair of skinny pants cuffed at the ankles and suede chocolate brown boots. “Get rid of that stupid thing.”
“Calm down.” Larry knocked the tip of the joint into his soda can and dropped it into his cigarette pack. “You’d stress less if you smoked.”
“There’s a cop car outside!” said a girl, rushing to my side.
“Oh my, God,” I said through clenched teeth.
As I entered the living room, a tall man dressed in a police uniform walked up to the door. “Officer Bloom?” I said, confused.
“Oliana, I need to speak with you outside.”
“I told the detective everything.”
“Please, step outside.”
I folded my arms around me and did what Bloom said. His eyes had taken on a fatherly concern.
“Your Mom and Dad were in a bad car accident. Traci did not make it. Norman is not in good shape. I was on the scene and recognized your address on the car’s registration. I told them I’d be the one to come get you.”
Officer Bloom’s voice blurred as I stood there, unable to move. I heard voices while hands touched my shoulder. I wanted to disappear. The car ride to the hospital felt like a dream. Just as I arrived, I learned that Dad had died too. Learning that I’d lost both parents, crushed my spirit.
After the double funeral was held, family from both sides did what they could to console us. I was grateful to learn that Mom and Dad had their wills. None of the stuff the lawyer said made any sense. All I knew was that Daniel had a trust fund that he couldn’t touch until he turned eighteen. I was able to access mine, but it was to be paid out in monthly payments. It wasn’t much, but it’d be enough to help me pay for my cellphone and car insurance. I’d still have to get a part time job to make ends meet.
Later, arrangements were made to put the house up for sale once I left for school.
Weeks passed. It took a few days for me to find the strength to pick up where’d I left off. So many decisions to make while dealing with a barrage of bad news. Daniel was placed with Marc and Linda had passed away not long after that.
Although, it was too late, I’d found room in my heart to forgive Linda. Because I accepted that life was too short and the people that you think will be with you forever, can be taken away.
Thank you for reading Staged.
Thank You
Read more about the world of Oliana Mercer…
COLD READ #3 Coming 2018
Cold Read
Reyersen
Two Months Later
“I’m so embarrassed. When I registered your information, I forgot to make a copy of your social security card. Can you get it to me before classes start next week?”
Mom handled all of this stuff. Now she was gone. “I don’t have it.” I explained about losing both of my parents in a car accident.
“I’ll make notes in the computer. Get it to us as soon as you can.”
“Where I can get a copy?”
“Since you’re eighteen, you have to put in the request on your own at the social security office. All you need is a copy of your birth certificate or passport. Unless you have access to it at home?”
My mind spun as I tried to figure out where all of that stuff would be. Mom’s cedar chest. The problem was she knew where the key was. The only thing I had were the papers showing the change of my last name. “Thanks.”
I fled out of the office, down the hall, my flats pounding the tan linoleum. In seconds, I was in my car heading for the highway. I stopped at home, grabbed my court papers proving my name change and left.
Thirty-five minutes later, I arrived at the vital statistics building so I could get a copy of my birth certificate. There were only a few people inside. I took a number and filled out an application.
“Number 477,” said a male clerk.
I checked mine. 482.
Off to my left, a phone rang as a guy stepped away from the counter. I moved toward a row of chairs and took a seat next to a girl holding a sleeping baby in her arms. She looked to be about my age, only tired. Flyers littered a cork board. One showed a cell phone with a black line over it.
I hadn’t given any of this type of stuff much thought. I’d always thought Mom would be around to help me figure everything out. Now, I had no one.
“Number 482,” said another clerk.
I went up to the counter and was greeted by a woman with short brown hair and bright eyes. She held her smile as I quickly updated her about needing my birth certificate and handed her the paperwork.
“It’ll be twenty dollars, and you’ll get it in about four weeks.” The woman scanned the application, stopping at the last box near the bottom. Her smile faded and looked up at me. “What a beautiful lady you’ve become.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Is your grandmother’s name, Linda?”
“I didn’t know her that well. I’m adopted.”
“The woman that gave birth to you, she and I were best friends,” the lady said, lowering her voice. “We shared the same birthdate.”
“What?”
“I could lose my job for this,” said the lady in a whisper. “I was there when your mother gave birth to you and your twin brother. She hated to give him up for adoption.” She typed in some information into the computer. “Bless those parents who agreed to an open adoption. We still keep in touch.”
I have a brother?
Meet Ms. Ashton
When Marguerite Ashton was in her twenties, she took up acting but realized she preferred to work behind the camera, writing crime fiction. A few years later, she married an IT Geek and settled down with her role as wife, mom, and writer. Five kids later, she founded the Crime Writer’s Panel and began working with former law enforcement investigators to create; Criminal Lines Blog, an online library for crime writers who need help with their book research.
She’s a workaholic who hides in h
er writer’s attic, plotting out her next book and stalking Pinterest for the next avocado recipe.
A member of Sisters in Crime and Crime Writers’ Association, Marguerite grew up in Colorado. Now she’s happily living in Wisconsin and playing as much golf as possible.
You can find Marguerite at:
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Staged: (Oliana Mercer series Book 2) Page 4