by Paloma Meir
Mr. Galloway had set me up on an online payroll service for my checks after my first year working for him, when the temporary job had turned to permanent. Before that Mr. Galloway had paid the temp agency directly, and they sent me the checks with their commission taken out. I was tempted to keep myself on his payroll, but knew it would best for my alibi if my employment end date was before he died.
I was too scared to even pay myself for my last real week of work. Yes, I had been watching a lot of crime shows on his premium cable. They were instructional videos for me by this point in the story.
I was down to my last thirty-three dollars and feeling very desperate. I even called the trendy pizzeria I had worked at after my parents died. They had gone out of business.
On a positive note, Jack’s calls were slowing down. He was down to eight times a day and the messages weren’t endless tirades. He had settled into, die bitch die.
It was as if he were possessed by the devil. What had happened to the sweet natured boy whose only fault had been a salty and sarcastic mouth. Had there been mental illness in is family? Is that why his mother had left him at the firehouse?
There was nothing I could do about it without endangering my life. My once best friend/one love wanted me dead. I couldn’t quite believe he would actually hurt me, but I couldn’t afford to take a chance.
I would have been destroyed by his change in character if I hadn’t had so much else going on in my life. I didn’t have time to think about him. My survival instinct had grown cat-like, spry. I was the human embodiment of my Mila, my only friend.
I sat at Mr. Galloway’s desk in his office off the living room, clicking through webpage after webpage trying to find a job. No such luck. I opened his brokerage account. So much money, and no way for me to touch it.
He had me take over the responsibility of his home expenses and had given me all of his passwords a few months after coming to work for him. He declared me trustworthy for, “my kind”. I cringe at the memory of me thanking him for the compliment.
I took care of his home accounts by setting up automatic debts for all of his utilities. Very smart of me in retrospect. I would have been sitting in the darkness if I hadn’t fortuitously organized his affairs this way. I couldn’t even imagine what his electricity bill was every month for running the air-conditioning the way he did even in the dead of winter. The man was always too hot.
I had thought it was the opposite with older people before I met him. That’s the way it had been with my other elder patients. Mr. Galloway was a contrary man in every way.
I heard a crash from the living room and my heart nearly stopped. The sound of Mila skittering away calmed me down. She had knocked something over. This happened occasionally.
I retrieved the broom and dustpan from the kitchen and went into the living room to clean up the mess. “Mila… This was one of my favorites, I loved swirling colors of the glass…” Mr. Galloway had told me it was Lalique and that it was an important piece because of… I can’t remember what he said. He could get a little longwinded when discussing his precious objects that he placed more importance on than actual humans.
It was beautiful, and I was sad it was broken. I’m sure it was worth more than a month of my previous salary. I wished I could have taken all the objects down and kept them on the floor. I had put earthquake putty beneath most of them but it doesn’t always work, especially with Mila running up against the walls and shelves.
I held the largest sliver up to the light, “Mila look how the colors light up the walls—
I hate to say it, but another idea sprung up into my head that was growing more twisted everyday. I dropped the piece of crystal and ran to Mr. Galloway’s bedroom. “No, no, no… This will create a trail.” I admonished myself.
I did it anyway. I opened Mr. Galloway’s bedside drawer and took out the hand-tooled leather case that held his collection of vintage watches. He had been a collector in the 1960s, and then had lost interest. I was sure that somebody would eventually do a full inventory of his possessions once his body was found, but he had so many objects. Would they really notice one little watch missing?
I knew some of his pre-Colombian pieces were worth hundreds of thousand of dollars, because he talked about it a lot. Generally when I was dusting. He would tell me life’s wages wouldn’t amount to cost of one of them. Sweet.
But how much could one of his watches really be worth? Maybe a thousand dollars if I were lucky? It would keep me going until I found a job. I grabbed the most simple looking one with a plan to go to one the small jewelers shop on Wilshire Blvd. They seemed a little shady by Beverly Hills standards. I was sure they wouldn’t ask too many questions.
…
I didn’t think about what I wearing until I was buzzed into the small and rather musty jeweler’s shop. My reflection in the glass door was quite a shock. I looked like a loon in Mr. Galloway’s rolled up black tuxedo pants, and white dress shirt tied tightly at my waist.
A cute loon, but very out of place for my circumstances. My circumstances being selling a dead man’s watch. Was there any chance I wasn’t going to hell for my actions?
“Hello,” I confidentially strode across the room to the elderly man sitting in a chair towards the back of the store. He held a magnifying glass with one hand, and a tiny diamond-like object in the other. He did not look up at me.
“How can I help you?”
“I have a Philippe Patek watch, I need to… sell.” I stated questioningly.
“Do you mean Patek Philippe?” He looked up at me suspiciously. I almost turned and ran out the store. I didn’t because I was desperate woman.
“Yes,” My fingers trembled as I thrust the watch towards him.
He placed the jewel on a velvet tray, took the watch from me, and looked at it through the magnifying glass, “May I ask how you came into possession of Patek Philippe watch from 1908? There are only ten known surviving pieces from this collection and they’re all accounted for.”
My heart pounded hard in my chest, I was sure the man could see it, “My grandfather left it to me—
“I see,” He laid the watch and magnifying glass on the velvet tray and looked up at me with a very serious but unreadable expression. “I’ll pay you 80,000, not a penny more.”
I’m surprised I didn’t pass out on the spot. I nodded my head instead. He nodded his and reached under the desk for his checkbook.
I hadn’t considered how I would be paid for the watch. But a check was not going to work. I had watched a college-education level of crime shows in the previous week. Checks were a paper trail. I would not be having one of those.
“Is there a way…” I didn’t know how to phrase my question.
“You need cash?”
“Yes,” I said with the added force of a heavy sigh.
“40,000, that’s the most I can do with cash. IRS keeps an eye on me… and others in the area.”
“Fine, thank you,” I tried not to sound too relieved. I don’t think it worked.
“Promise me something, if you have anything else to sell from your “grandfather’s” estate, come see me. The other jewelers in this area can be… unscrupulous. I wouldn’t want you to be taken of advantage of.”
It was very clear in that moment that he had taken advantage of me. Not much I could do about it, being a criminal and all. I let go of it.
“I will… Thank you again.”
He nodded, went into the backroom of the shop, and came back with 40,000 cash in a very attractive vintage gold knit purse. It was beautiful. I still own it.
“The handbag is a gift to you.” he smiled brightly as he handed it to me. He was missing a tooth like Mr. Galloway. Why did all the rich octogenarians have such bad teeth? Very strange.
“Thank you,” I checked the bag, not quite believing it was stuffed with money. It was. My hands were definitely in a full tremble but I did not pass out on the floor. Small miracles everywhere.
I walked as gracef
ully as I could out the door. Once I was outside, I was free to be me, and me? I was rich. I leapt down Wilshire Blvd, pirouetting around the beautifully manicured trees. My face felt like it was on fire from the pure joy pumping though my veins.
A group of older women as well maintained as the city’s foliage whispered, very loudly, that they wished people wouldn’t let their “help” prance around the town on their day’s off. Did I let her words ruin my day? NO.
I did come to a sudden stop in the middle of my happy dance. Elitism never ceased to amaze to me. Did these people really think they would have attained the same position in life if they had been born in a hut in Nicaragua?
The odds against it were astronomical. They would be better off playing the lottery.
The stop I came to on the sidewalk wasn’t so bad. I found myself in front of Barney’s. I went inside…
Three hours later and 8,000 dollars poorer, I left. Did you know there was a world of elegant and comfortable stilettos outside of Christian Louboutin?
I didn’t buy them, but they exist. Lanvin slippers is what I bought to cover my feet. Glove soft leather in every color and hue of the rainbow. I bought five pairs.
I bought a lot of other things too, dresses, so many dresses. I didn’t think anyone would be confusing me with a housekeeper anymore. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that.
Chapter Seven
Catholic guilt over my reckless spending threatened my shopping high, but I wasn’t going to let it win. I pushed away the thoughts and sang out loud to a poppy song on the radio. I was rocking out pretty hard by the time I pulled up in front of Mr. Galloway’s home.
I glanced up at Landon’s house and saw him standing beside his mailbox, laughing. Laughing at me for my solo performance of an old B-52’s song. Being caught in such a private moment was usually embarrassing, but not with him.
I smiled and felt as if hearts were shooting out my eyes. I could see them in his. We might as well have been grammar school.
He jauntily ran to the passenger side of my car and leaned in the window, “Esme…” His voice trailed off in a sweet sigh.
“Hi Landon,” I practically purred to him. I had never behaved in such a way before. It felt ridiculous, but it was well beyond my control.
He looked down at my stack of shopping bags in the passenger seat, “Shopping? You should have gone to my family’s store. I could have gotten you a big discount, almost free.” He squinted his face in the most adorable way and shook his head up and down, “In fact, it would have been 100% free.”
“Are you one of those Aldridge’s?” I asked with genuine surprise. Exactly how perfect could this man be?
Aldridge’s was the Orange County equivalent of Barney’s, very chic, very expensive. Not part of my world.
One of my patients before I came into the employ of Mr. Galloway would spend her days ordering online from the store. She was bedridden and couldn’t wear the beautiful clothes, but she loved to open the boxes. It made her remaining days an endless birthday party of gifts. Very sweet woman, she passed on not too long after I came to work for her.
“Yes I am, you should have dinner with me tonight. There’s so much more for you to know… And all I know about you is that you’re lovely.”
“Lovely… If you only knew… I’m sorry, I’m busy. School, I’m in my second to last quarter at UCLA.” I gripped the steering wheel, eager to be away him, “Study, study, study.”
“I know what you mean… My last year in law school, it’s a blur of late night study sessions. And a week later, here I am in L.A… with you.”
“You just graduated? Where did you go?”
“Harvard Law.”
This was too much, I started laughing and couldn’t stop. Was I dreaming?
“What’s so funny, Esme?” He laughed along with me and ran his fingers through his tousle of golden brown hair that was so similar in color to mine.
“Heir to the Aldridge’s, Harvard Law, handsome, charming… Did my sainted mother send you down from Heaven? Do you have any flaws?” I couldn’t help myself, I started laughing again.
“Hmmmm,” He very seriously stated, “No, I don’t think so.” He smiled to me and only me. I melted into the car seat.
“Well…” He glanced around the quiet cul-de-sac, “Can you keep a secret?”
“Yes,” I whispered, “I know how to keep a secret.” Which is why you, Mr. Perfect will never be a part of my life.
“I’ve never spent anytime in Los Angeles before,” He lowered his voice, “I’m a little scared of earthquakes.”
“That’s your secret?” One last blast of laughter erupted from me, “Earthquakes aren’t dangerous until they hit 5.0, so don’t worry about the tiny jolts. Goodbye Landon.” I drove off to him to the sound of his deep timber calling after me.
I logically knew what I was feeling couldn’t be true love, more a virulent case of puppy love. It was a shame it wasn’t going to get to grow.
…
I thought about Landon as I hung up my new dresses in the closet next to Mr. Galloway’s playful wardrobe of soft colors and luxury fabrics. The house Landon lived in had been empty for months before he moved in. The owner had moved to Canada years before and now rented it out.
Four or five people had come and gone in the time I had worked for Mr. Galloway. We were at the end of a hillside canyon cul-de-sac. I had never even seen the people who lived at the bottom of our hill. The citizens of Beverly Hills weren’t block party kind of people. The neighbors only ever met in cases of emergencies, like the earthquakes Landon worried about.
Exactly how cute was it that he worried about earthquakes?
Landon had mentioned in one of our previous romantic rendezvous by the mailbox that he had only rented the house for three months. He was looking to buy a home of his own and he wasn’t sure yet which area in Los Angeles he favored.
Landon was very aware of the fact that I lived in Mr. Galloway’s house. His awareness was a definite kink in my plan. I would have to stay here at the very least until he moved out. I didn’t think the eventual discovery of Mr. Galloway’s body would make the news, but if it did… Landon could grow curious.
The idea of Mr. Galloway entombed in his temperature-controlled sarcophagus for such a long period time was not ideal. I fretted and fretted but couldn’t find another option. I needed at least a month between leaving permanently and my surprise visit to my former employer.
I was definitely not looking forward to washing off any kitty litter that may have clung to his body. I had checked the day before to make sure he hadn’t congealed. The litter worked, he was holding up well. I figured as long as the air conditioning didn’t malfunction, his condition would remain the same.
Landon’s moving out would coincide nicely with the end of my academic quarter. I would have a job by then. The police will have definitely apprehended Jack. I couldn’t understand how that hadn’t already happened.
“Mila, so cute,” I sat down on the floor next to her where she was playing with the shoeboxes, pouncing on them as if they were prey. “We’re here until the new year,” I stroked her fur and said, “Is that okay with you?” She curled up onto my lap. I would take that as an enthusiastic yes.
My phone buzzed. I hesitated before getting up from my cozy spot to pick it up, and looked out the window. The daylight was still shining. Jack only called at night now. It was as if he had turned into a vampire. I know I should have blocked his number, but it was hard to let go. I still had a tiny pocket of hope left in my heart for him.
I looked down at the caller ID. It was Mara. I picked it up, “Hello.”
“Esme, are you okay? Where are you?” She sounded panicked. I was used to her sounding stoned. My stomach clenched.
“I’m laying low… Is everything all right?”
“Jack came by, more like almost broke down the front door.”
I stiffened and sat up straight, “Did you call the police?”
“Yea
h but he was already gone by then. He’s like… crazy. He said we were keeping you from him. Then he started crying, then he was bashing the wall and then he was gone.”
“I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. I eyed the golden handbag stuffed with cash and thought of giving them enough money to move, immediately.
“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything. Crazy boyfriends can happen to anyone. Bobby is going to stay over for the next few nights.” She breathed in deeply. I assumed she was smoking a joint. I wasn’t going to say anything about it.
“Who’s Bobby? And I am sorry. I don’t know how to make this up to you and Belinda.”
“New boyfriend. I met him a couple of days ago at the Westside Pavilion. And if you want to help, you can move back in. Bobby is a bodybuilder, so hot. He could squash Jack. Jack’s really skinny now too. Is he on drugs? He looks like he has AIDs” She exhaled hard into the phone and laughed. I crossed myself at her mention of AIDS, “I put an ad on Craigslist looking for a new roommate, but they’re all kind of gross. You know what I mean? And where are you?”
“I’m safe and I’m going to send you money to cover my rent for the next three months. If you can’t find anyone by then, I’ll send you more.” I would be happy to send her the whole money grab of cash in the bag. What was my life turning into? I was once a nice Catholic girl. Now I’m the lam, with ill-gotten gains and dead body proverbially on ice. “I’m safe, don’t worry about it.”
“Really? That would be great. Are you sure it won’t set you back? Are you sure you’re safe?”
“Very safe, it’s like I have a guardian angel,” I really did feel like Mr. Galloway was watching all of this and getting a perverse kick out of it, “I’ll get the money to you in the morning. I’ll send it by courier. Take care of yourself, okay? No more kitchen fires…” I tried to laugh but my eyes felt full of tears, “Bye Mara.”
I needed a vacation.
Chapter Eight
I needed a vacation, so I decided to take a vacation. My academic quarter was over, and winter break had begun. Sounds nice, right? Wrong. I was incredibly lonely, even with Mila by my side.