by Dawn Umrie
She’s going to be the death of me, for sure, but what a hell of a way to go out. “I’ll work on it,” I say crossing my heart with my finger.
She laughs while she says, “You do that.”
Damn, if she doesn’t sound like an innocent temptress if there even is such a thing because it’s clear she’s not trying to be one.
“Since I almost sent you into cardiac arrest, let me buy you dinner. Sylvia and Trish are waiting for me in the bar, but they wouldn’t mind waiting a little longer so that you could get dressed,” I say while skimming my eyes over her not-covering-much, cover-up. My new favorite kind.
“Um, well, that’s very kind of you… considering I almost died and all, but I’m going to have to decline. Brook and I ate at the beach today, which included devouring a full-size bag of Doritos.” She holds her flat stomach and turns her body sideways to unlock the door that leads upstairs.
“I can’t top Doritos, but consider it an IOU.”
I hold the door for her as she climbs the stairs, just seeing the writing on the back of her hat that says, ‘Bring on the sunshine, bitches.’
“Consider it already paid in full. Night, Seth,” She says as she climbs the stairs.
She’s referring to how I treated her to lunch. I wish I thought of something clever to persuade her to come along.
“Goodnight.” Angel.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Merissa
This day marks a very important milestone, moving day, so I’m bouncing off the walls in here. Everything I own, which isn’t an awful lot, is packed up into boxes, having finished it last night after running into Seth. I can’t stop thinking of it, actually—and that’s wrong… very wrong. I’m not even sure which direction my moral compass is pointing to, and I’m meeting Seth’s girlfriend once more in about an hour at the house to do the final walk-through, and I feel guilty as hell as if she’ll be able to read my double-crossing thoughts.
Seth showed a very different side of himself that was more playful and relaxed, one might say even flirtatious if I didn’t know that he was in love with another woman. When he asked me out to dinner, I panicked. I just couldn’t subject myself to that kind of torment. It’s bad enough I had to stand so close to him while his rich, spicy cologne was releasing pheromones that were more dangerous to me than that knife he held.
Since Mike insisted that I let him carry my boxes out to his truck and deliver them to me later at the house, I locked up and went downstairs. Brook came by a little while ago to get the spare key to the apartment.
So, this is it, my very last traipse down the stairs.
Usually, people feel bad about leaving a place they’ve lived. They’re afraid that, somehow, the memories made there will stay behind. I’m not carting any memorable moments with me from here, just the old baggage that I usually carry, although it doesn’t feel quite as heavy this time.
* * *
Sylvia’s BMW is parked in the driveway of my new abode, and I pull alongside, not being able to help myself from doing a comparison of the two vehicles. I’m never one to be jealous or obsess over material things, so I’m not sure why I felt a pang of something that I can’t even identify.
Beautiful hedges trimmed meticulously lead up the walkway to the bold red-painted front door. I could already picture myself kneeling in the dirt, the sun warming my shoulders while I plant flowers, or pluck weeds.
Even though the house is officially mine, I knock on the door because it feels impolite to enter without doing so. I grab hold of the locket that Mr. Huxley gave me and rub the cool metal between my thumb and index finger.
Sylvia walks up to the French door and wave’s through the glass panes before opening it.
“Hi, Merissa! Welcome to your home!”
My eyes mist over, making my surroundings slightly blurry while I step inside and glance around the living room. “Thanks so much, Sylvia. This place is even quainter than I remember.”
She’s smiling from ear to ear. “Oh my God, this is one of my favorite houses. So charming—and that fireplace! I know we don’t use them much here in Florida, but it adds so much character to a room, right?”
“Yes, definitely! I’m already visualizing sitting in front of it with a hot cup of tea.”
“Or a glass of wine.” She giggles.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I like her. So, yeah, guilty feelings are starting to bubble to the surface.
I suck.
“Okay, so… we had pest control come by, and I’m not sure if it matters to you or not, but it was eco-friendly. Also, the carpets have been steamed and a cleaning service went through the whole place since it had been sitting for a little while, you know? If you have any problems with anything at all, please give me a call or text, and I will contact the owner.”
“Sure, but, wow, that’s all so incredible. I can’t thank you enough. You’ve been amazing.”
I wish I could say the same about myself since I’m too busy lusting after your insanely hot boyfriend.
Sylvia gives me a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m excited for you! Okay, why don’t you go take your time and walk through the upper level, and I’ll wait for you in the kitchen, sound good?”
“It does. I’ll be back down in a few.”
The second floor consists of two bedrooms and one bathroom, the second, a half bath, is downstairs. I walked along the polished hardwood floors into the bathroom and stood right in front of the freestanding tub, imagining nights with essential oil aromas filling up the space. After having considered both bedrooms, I laid claim to the larger of the two for my own.
I run my hand across the plush white down comforter, so soft, on top of the queen upholstered bed. Besides the simple, but elegant, white dresser and end table, my favorite part of the room is the antique vanity with a large, ornately carved mirror, a stool in front for applying makeup or doing hair.
Making my way back downstairs, I take a few steps into the kitchen, not knowing where to put my eyes first, even though I saw it a little over two weeks ago.
Sylvia gets up from the dinette table that’s in front of a large window facing the backyard. “So, what do you think?”
“I think that I’ve died and gone to heaven. There’s no other explanation,” I say while admiring the palest of green cabinets and shiny white marble countertops.
She laughs loudly. “Seriously, if my brother was here, he’d say that was impossible since I’m here, too.”
I like her a lot.
Laughing with her, she continues. “Come into the dining room, we have something for you.”
We?
“This is from me. Congratulations, Merissa.”
She picks up a beautiful bottle of red wine with colorful geometric shapes on the label, complete with a red bow around the neck.
“This is too pretty to open up! Thank you, but you shouldn’t have.”
“No way, you have to open it! Save the bottle if you like it that much… and you’re welcome.”
“Right, good thinking.”
“This one,” she rolls her eyes and holds it up with two hands, “is from, Tim. I heard what happened, but I could tell that he’s sorry, so I hope you don’t harbor any ill feelings.”
“No, of course not!” Your boyfriend might though. I opened his card that was attached to the fruit basket. He said he was sorry for leaving lunch in such a hurry and forgetting to pay.
She points to a white box with a mocha colored bow on it. “And this is from, Seth.” Her phone rings on the table as she lifts it up to see who’s calling. “Merissa, I need to take this, will you excuse me for a just few?
“Absolutely, take your time.” While I’m in here getting ready to gush over what your boyfriend got me—because I’m a dreadful human being.
Sylvia walks out of the dining room while I open the tiny envelope taped to the top. I slide the card out and beam at the words, to new beginnings and happily ever afters, in elegant cursive.
Untying t
he silk ribbon, I lift the lid of the box, then remove the tissue paper to reveal a white mug with fancy black letters.
Home Sweet Effing Home.
I grin and shake my head while I pull out a plastic card that’s tucked inside. A $100 gift card to Perks. Dang, that’s a lot of Macchiato, right there. I’m beginning to learn that there are many facets to Seth’s personality, this gesture showing just a couple. Placing the gift back in the box, I’m completely overwhelmed, but I’d rather be overwhelmed than underwhelmed any day of the week.
Still holding the coffee cup in my hand, Sylvia touches my arm gently. “So sorry that I left you in here, but I see you’ve opened Seth’s gift,” she says with a laugh. “I love that fool to pieces. Listen, I have to get a move on, but if you need anything, give me a holler, okay? I’m sure we’ll see each other again very soon.”
She loves him to pieces. I could only imagine what her favorite piece is.
I reach over and give her a hug. “Thank you, again, Sylvia. We definitely will.” I walk her out. “Take care.”
“You, too, bye!” She says with a wave.
I lock the door and watch as she backs up and drives away. I’m so excited about this house that I’ve been like a ticking time bomb ready to blow confetti everywhere. To say that I’m overjoyed wouldn’t even scratch the surface, so I do what any girl in my shoes would do… a ceremonial dance of sorts. I say, of sorts, meaning, not even close to that. It’s more like I just ran across a bunch of hot coals, but with exaggerated arm movements and clapping.
A light rap on the glass stops me as if someone pulled my plug.
Shit.
Ever so slowly, I turn, not wanting to face whoever is on the other side of the door for fear I might die of humiliation. Mike stands there with a box in his arms and a slow smile spreading across his face. The look he has in his eyes says, I’ve got something on you and I’m not letting you live it down.
Double shit.
I unlock the door and brace myself for the can of clown he’s going to open.
“Hey, Mike.” I step aside and let him pass as he carries one of my boxes and places it on the floor.
“Should I be concerned that you’re having an allergic reaction to something, twinkle toes?”
“Maybe, I’m allergic to large muscle-bound men carrying boxes.”
“Your kink is safe with me… for now.” He smiles and looks around the room.
A low whistle comes out of his mouth. “Damn, this house is really fuckin’ nice.”
Feeling my heart warm at the compliment. “Yeah, that’s why I was doing a happy dance.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it happy–certifiable, maybe.”
Hitting his arm in retaliation did nothing but hurt my hand. “Where’s Brook?” I say while sticking my head out the door.
“She’ll be here any second. Left right after me, but she’s stopping off for Chinese takeout first.”
“That’s so nice! Aw, my first meal in the house with my best friends.”
“Very cool. So, where do you want me to put all your stuff, tiny dancer?”
“You’re incorrigible!” I crinkle my nose. “Um, maybe upstairs? Sorry. Most of my things are for there.”
“I own a gym, I think I can handle lifting a few boxes up the stairs.”
“Thanks, Mike.”
“No problem, I’ll hurry and get the boxes out of the truck before it rains.”
“Really? There’s not a cloud in the sky,” I say while looking through the window.
“It won’t be that way for long after that rain dance you just performed,” he says as he walks back out to his truck.
Shithead
“Hello, hello? I come with food,” Brook sings.
“Hi, sweetie, thanks so much for that. I sort of forgot to eat today.”
“I figured you might have, but I could see why. This house is the sweetest! We couldn’t be happier for you. Nate said he’ll come by once you’re settled.”
“Sure, and thanks, Brook. I know I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for your friendship. Love you, girl.”
“Stop. You’re going to make me cry into the moo goo gai pan.”
“Alright, food first, then a tour.” I eat a bite of my take out. “Oh, and you missed meeting Seth’s girlfriend. She left just a short while before you guys came.”
Mike now joined us in the kitchen.
“She’s really super nice.”
“Since when does Seth have a girl? He never mentioned having one, and I talk to him all the time.” Mike says, a puzzled expression on his face.
“Ugh, sorry, Rissy. That bites,” Brook replies, failing at using chopsticks before she gives up and uses a fork.
I shrug. “It does. But it doesn’t matter, because Seth is with Sylvia, and that’s that.”
Mike puts down his fork. “Whoa, wait a sec. Are you talking about the same Sylvia that works at the real estate agency?”
Covering my mouth so fried rice doesn’t come out, I chew the rest and swallow. “Yes, when did you meet her?
Brook giggles and her and Mike exchange a look, “Sylvia isn’t Seth’s girlfriend, silly… she’s his sister.”
“His sister? Are you sure?” I say in utter confusion.
They both yell in unison, “Yes!”
“Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick,” I whisper.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Seth
My suit is still in the plastic from the dry cleaners as I carry it draped over one arm, my gym bag in the other. Rain, always the deciding factor to hit the gym before work, instead of after. One way or another, I have to get some form of a workout done before I could face a day at the office.
Today, I’m meeting with a party planner for a charity event coming up and for the grand re-opening of Graffiti’s, I don’t know what the new name will be called yet, but that decision has to made soon for the printers. Trish is coming by since she will oversee the party preparations. I’m impressed by the amount that’s been done so far, but it’s no surprise based on the work she’s done for me in the past.
“I know it must be raining if you’re here all bright-eyed and bushy tailed this morning,” Mike says as he approaches the treadmill. “It’s too early for weights, even for me.”
“It is raining, and I need to be lively this morning, so I could deal with my PA and decorator in the same room. I don’t think they care much for each other.”
“Catfight, I dig it.” He smirks
“Yeah, nothing like the fantasy, man.”
“Mind if I jump on the machine next to you, it’s quiet right now.”
“Sure, have at it.”
“Dude, funny story. I was over at Merissa’s house with Brook yesterday helping her move in…”
That got my fuckin’ attention.
“And get this, she thought that your sister was your girlfriend this entire time.”
“Yeah?” I say in disbelief. “Why would she have thought that?”
“She was late for her shift on Cinco, Sylvia had already left, so she wasn’t formally introduced… and something about your interaction in the coffee shop gave her the impression.
“What did she say when you told her the truth?”
“Something about Jesus and a pogo stick. Her and Brook have their own language,” he said, laughing before he got called away for a delivery he had to sign for.
I place my earbuds in and scroll through my playlist for a song I’d like to hear first while I go into a full out run. The tidbit of information Mike just gave me shouldn’t matter to me, but it does… very much so. Now that she knows that I am, in fact, available, makes me wonder what difference it will make in the way she interacts with me.
Muse, “Supermassive Black Hole” is blasting into my eardrums. Not exactly running, music, but it could do wonders to maintain my heart rate—and not just because I’m on a treadmill.
* * *
I’m back at the office, and the hypothesis that I’ve formed t
his morning at the gym has been tested and proven without the shadow of a doubt to be AAF… accurate as fuck. The hypothesis being, if Seth gets in an early morning workout, then he will better be able to handle any shit storm that blows his way.
The meeting with the event planner, Janine, and Trish worked out in the end, but getting there was like pulling teeth from a vicious dog while he’s awake. Because I like to remain hands-on, I sat there with a case of whiplash as Janine and Trish made no secret of their different take on, just about everything. The planner kept throwing me looks as if to say, can you do something about these two? So, I rescued her, and myself, by designating Janine to work alongside the planner for the charity event and Trish for the bar’s grand opening.
Argument, averted.
Stepping into my office, I remove my jacket and place it on the back of my chair before sitting. I run my hand through my hair and spin my chair to face the outside view. Crossing my leg over the other, I roll up my shirtsleeves since I have no other in-person meetings today. It feels good to just sit here and take a breather after being a referee in the other room. Next time I’m going to leave them to hash things out themselves. God knows I’m paying the three enough money to do just that.
My cell rings, and I look to see that it’s my mother. I smile, not only because I adore my mom, but also because I just bought her a cell phone. Believe it or not, she’s never had one. My mother is old school, which means that technology has never been her thing until I told her that she needed to have one in case of emergencies and such.
My mother and father live approximately 30 miles North of my sister and me in Boca Raton, so Vee and I try to get over there for Sunday dinner as often as we can.
I don’t acknowledge that I know who’s calling, so I could hear what she always says after I say hello.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Seth, it’s your mom.”
“How is the most beautiful mother in the world?”
“Hang on, I need to see where the volume button is, I must have turned it down by accident.”