One Woman's Junk

by J. B. Lynn

  “Over here.”

  Beatrice rolled herself in the direction of the voice and came across the girl, sitting just as she had envisioned her, with her back to the garbage dumpster. The dog danced excitedly around her. Beatrice didn’t see anyone else in the vicinity, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a threat lurking.

  “Come back with me to the shop,” she told the girl.

  Rena just stared at her. “I know that I took your cot,” Beatrice said. “We’ll figure out some other accommodations.”

  Rena shook her head. “You don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”

  Beatrice looked up and down the alley, relieved, at least, that there weren’t rats scurrying around.

  “You can’t stay out here.”

  “I do it all the time,” Rena told her, raising her chin proudly. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m sure you can,” Beatrice said. “But as Letty was always telling me, it never hurts to let somebody help you.”

  Rena’s eyes filled with tears. “She told me that often.”

  Beatrice nodded, a lump rising in her throat. “Push me back?” she asked.

  Rena slowly got to her feet, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and slowly approached Beatrice. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Letty did, and she obviously cared for you,” Beatrice told her. “And Ash says you’re a good worker.”

  Rena nodded. “He’s a good boss.”

  “So, let’s go back,” Beatrice said.

  The dog leapt back onto Beatrice’s lap, and Rena began to push her along. “You got yourself all this way?” Rena asked.

  “I was worried about you,” Beatrice admitted.

  “Why?”

  “The street is no place for a young woman to be,” Beatrice told her.

  “I’m not looking for a handout,” Rena said proudly. “I really can take care of myself.”

  Beatrice nodded. “I understand, but you’re doing me a favor.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “I’d be an insomniac, worried about you all night, knowing you were out here,” Beatrice said. “At least this way I won’t have to worry about your safety.”

  They traveled along in silence for a couple of minutes. “The purse is in the shop,” Rena said quietly. She barely whispered the words, and Beatrice had to strain to hear her over the rattle of the wheelchair wheels against the road surface.

  “The purse?”

  “The one everyone’s looking for,” Rena said. “Amber Axelrod and the cops.”

  “What makes you think it’s there?” Beatrice asked carefully.

  “Because I’m the one that brought it to Letty.”

  31

  Before Beatrice could ask Rena what she meant by that, she heard her name shrieked.

  “Beatrice!”

  Peering into the shadows ahead, she saw the figures of two people, arms interlocked, rushing toward her.

  “Uh-oh,” Pim said, “somebody’s about to get into trouble.”

  Ignoring him, Beatrice sat up straighter in her chair and prepared for her sisters’ onslaught.

  “What are you doing out here?” Winnie demanded as soon as they grew closer.

  “We were worried sick about you.” Amanda looked her up and down, searching for injury.

  “I had to come find Rena,” Beatrice explained, jerking her thumb at the person pushing her wheelchair.

  “Why?” Amanda asked. “You had to do it in the middle of the night?”

  “It’s not the middle of the night,” Beatrice told her.

  “It’s late. It’s dark. You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Winnie rattled off the reasons, shaking her finger at Beatrice, scolding her like a schoolmarm.

  “Why don’t you just shut up?” Beatrice suggested.

  Winnie gasped.

  “The two of you, huddled together, terrified of shadows,” Beatrice pushed on. “You’re afraid to come out here alone, like you’re expecting the Big Bad Wolf to jump out and get you.”

  Amanda’s eyes filled with tears, and she crossed her arms defensively in front of her.

  Her middle sister, though, hit back just as hard as she got. “You’re irresponsible,” Winnie said. “You’ve spent your whole life getting yourself into trouble and having other people bail you out of it because you don’t think through your actions.”

  “Maybe I should go somewhere,” Rena murmured, backing away.

  “No, stay,” Beatrice ordered.

  “Don’t go off on your own,” Amanda urged.

  “Okay, so maybe I take too many chances,” Beatrice told Winnie. “But what about you two? Amanda has never taken a single chance in her life on anything, and you, for all your thinking things through, still have a life that’s a disaster.”

  “I see you found her,” a male voice said from the shadows. The Concordia sisters and Rena all turned in the direction of the voice.

  Ash Costin, thumbs tucked into the belt loops of his jeans, strolled toward them.

  “Yes, thanks,” Winnie said tightly.

  Amanda dashed away her tears hurriedly.

  Ash focused on Beatrice. “And you’ve decided you’re going to have a big fight in the middle of the street, like a shoot-out at the O.K. Corral?”

  All three Concordia sisters gasped.

  Rena chuckled.

  “I like him,” Pim declared.

  “That’s none of your business,” Beatrice told Ash.

  He shrugged and pointed at her sisters. “They banged on my door, begging me to help find you, so it’s not like I stuck my nose in where I wasn’t invited.”

  Beatrice leaned back, surprised by his tone. He would have been the last person she would have expected to attack her.

  “You should have told me that you thought something bad befell Letty,” Ash told her. “And your sisters are right; you shouldn’t be out here at night rolling around.”

  “Hey,” Beatrice protested weakly.

  “It was my fault,” Rena piped up.

  Ash, Winnie, and Amanda all focused on the girl. “She came looking for me,” Rena explained.

  Ash considered that for a second and then turned his attention to Beatrice. “Because I told you that Letty let her sleep at the junk shop?”

  “It’s not a junk shop,” Beatrice snapped.

  “I didn’t mean it was a junk shop,” Ash said, spearing his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “One Woman’s Junk, I just shortened it to Junk shop. I didn’t mean any insult. I call the dry cleaner the cleaner.”

  “I think everybody’s tired,” Amanda interjected, trying to defuse the situation. “If we all just go back and get some sleep...”

  “If we all just go bury our heads in the sand, you mean,” Beatrice challenged.

  “There’s nothing that we can solve now,” Amanda said quietly. Not even looking to see if anyone was joining her, she turned around and started walking back to Letty’s place.

  Winnie shot Beatrice an accusatory look. “Now look what you’ve done; you hurt her feelings.”

  “I didn’t mean to do that,” Beatrice said.

  “That may be the statement you use more than any other. I didn’t mean to do that,” Winnie mocked. “Funny how you get away with that, and everybody else has to pay the consequences.” With that, she whirled around and stalked after her older sister.

  Beatrice slumped in her seat.

  “So do you want me to follow them?” Rena asked uncertainly.

  The dog barked once, seeming to indicate the affirmative.

  “I’ll walk with you,” Ash offered.

  Rena began pushing the chair again, and none of them spoke.

  “I didn’t mean to worry anyone,” Beatrice murmured. It wasn’t like she could tell them that she sensed Rena was in danger and there hadn’t been time. Ash wouldn’t believe her and Rena, there was no reason to scare the girl.

  As she had for most of her life, Beatrice felt misunderstood. She did things under the b
est of intentions. But Winnie was right, so often others paid the consequences for her actions, she wondered if she and Letty had that in common.

  32

  Beatrice awoke with a sense of dread gnawing at the pit of her stomach. Blinking her eyes, she stared up at the ceiling, which Letty had covered with fake tin tiles. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep. Partly because she was so keyed up about the stolen purse. Partly because she didn’t like going to sleep knowing her sisters were angry at her, and partly because Rena snored.

  The teenager, who they had made a bed for on the floor out of various linens that Amanda had found in the back-storage room, had slept like a baby. Maybe a drunken baby, considering how loudly she snored.

  It had bothered Beatrice, not because of the noise, but because she realized that the girl probably hadn’t slept well since the Concordia sisters had arrived and effectively kicked her out of her bed.

  Even now, she could hear Rena’s even breathing.

  The dog, which had slept upstairs with her sisters, came running down the stairs with his nails skittering over the flooring, waking Rena.

  She stirred and looked across the shop at Beatrice.

  “Morning,” Beatrice croaked.

  “Morning.” Rena got up and began to fold all of the linens back into a neat pile.

  “Did Letty ever offer you a job?” Beatrice asked. Even as the words escaped her, she knew her sisters wouldn’t be happy that she’d voiced the question.

  “I’ve done some work for her,” Rena replied. “But I could never commit to the kind of regular schedule that she would have needed.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m in school,” Rena replied matter-of-factly.

  Surprised, Beatrice struggled into a sitting position. “School?”

  “I’m taking classes at the technical college, cooking classes,” Rena said proudly.

  “That’s great.”

  “That’s what Letty used to say.” Rena paused for a moment in the midst of her busy folding, and smiled at the memory. “She said people would always have to eat so I would always have a job.”

  Beatrice nodded, accepting her godmother’s wisdom.

  “So I can’t work a lot of the hours that the store is open,” Rena continued.

  “How do you get there?” Beatrice asked curiously. The girl didn’t have a roof over her head, she sincerely doubted that she had a car.

  “I scat.”

  Beatrice blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “I scat.”

  “You poop to get there?” Beatrice asked, thoroughly confused.

  Rena chuckled. “The Sarasota County Area Transit. They run buses all over the city, that’s how I get to school.”

  “SCAT,” Beatrice repeated, shaking her head.

  Rena nodded. “Obviously, somebody didn’t think out the acronym.” They both chuckled.

  As they were laughing, Winnie descended the stairs. “The problem with owning a dog,” she groused, “is that you have to walk it.” She gave Beatrice an accusing look.

  “Two weeks,” Beatrice threw back at her. “In two weeks, I’ll be out of this chair,” she promised.

  “And how long will you be in physical therapy?” Winnie asked.

  Rena looked from one sister to the other nervously.

  “I could take him,” the teenager suggested. “It’s the least I can do.” Without asking anything further, she hurried to where the leash had been left on the counter, snapped it on the dog’s collar, and led him outside.

  “You can’t keep her,” Winnie told Beatrice.

  “Keep her?”

  “Rena. You can’t take in every stray you see,” Winnie said. “You can’t even take care of yourself.”

  Amanda, descending the stairs, heard the last of Winnie’s comment.

  “Oh, give her a break, already,” Amanda muttered. “I don’t have the patience to listen to you bicker before I’ve had my coffee.”

  “I could use coffee,” Beatrice said.

  “You could use a change of clothes,” Winnie griped and stalked out of the shop.

  “Does she seem even more irritable than usual to you?” Beatrice asked Amanda.

  Her older sister shrugged. “I think we’re all under a lot of stress.”

  “You’re talking to ghosts, and I’m having visions,” Beatrice reminded her. “It seems to me she’d be under less stress than the rest of us.”

  Amanda shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Amanda helped Beatrice get changed for the day. Beatrice was just piling the denim bag on her lap when Rena returned with the dog.

  “I’ve got to run,” she said, releasing the dog and handing the leash to Amanda.

  “Okay,” Beatrice said. “But make sure you come back here tonight. Otherwise, I’m gonna have to go looking for you again and it’s going to turn into a big adventure with the sisters and Ash and…”

  Rena smiled her gratitude. “Thank you. I will.”

  “I think we should take him with us,” Amanda decided. “I haven’t bought any dog food yet so he must be starving.”

  “So, does that mean we’re keeping him?” Beatrice asked hopefully.

  Amanda shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

  Beatrice beamed and the dog barked as though he understood that he’d just been officially adopted.

  Amanda muttered, “Winnie’s going to kill me.”

  As if on cue, Winnie walked in, still looking unhappy. “So, are you coming to breakfast or not?”

  “We all are,” Amanda said. She began to push Beatrice’s wheelchair toward the door, and the dog jumped in Beatrice’s lap as though he knew he’d been invited along.

  Shaking her head, Winnie held open the door. “We can’t even take care of our own problems, why are we taking on all these others?”

  33

  Beatrice was disappointed to see that the lights were out in Ash’s shop as they made their way to the coffee shop. She felt badly about how annoyed he’d seemed with her last night. She liked him more than she wanted to admit, but even she knew she was too much of a hot mess for somebody as stable as him.

  The thought saddened her, and she fiddled with her ring.

  “We’re going to sit outside,” Amanda announced to Winnie.

  “Obviously,” their middle sister replied. “Otherwise, what are you going to do with the dog?” Shaking her head, she left Amanda to park Beatrice at one of the small outside bistro tables.

  “Do you want anything in particular?” Amanda asked.

  Beatrice shook her head. “Whatever looks good and the biggest cup of coffee they have.”

  Amanda nodded and patted her sister’s shoulder. “It’s all going to work out, Beatrice.”

  Beatrice nodded, even though she wasn’t sure she believed it.

  Amanda went into the shop, leaving Beatrice and the dog alone outside. “If we’re going to keep you, we should probably name you,” she told the dog. He yipped as though in agreement.

  She wondered what an appropriate name for such a scruffy mutt would be.

  She looked around at her surroundings, searching for inspiration. Her gaze landed on a nearby hibiscus plant, the flowers were a bright yellow. It was almost breathtakingly beautiful.

  It reminded her of what Letty used to say, “Simple is sensational.”

  Amanda emerged from the coffee shop first, with two cups of coffee. She put one down in front of Beatrice and slid into the seat beside her. “Winnie’s getting the rest,” she said.

  They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, sipping their coffee, watching the mourning doves that had gathered nearby in the hopes of being tossed some crumbs.

  Finally, Winnie emerged from the shop, balancing her own coffee and a paper bag filled with breakfast items.

  She put them down on the table, spreading out the feast. “I didn’t know what anybody wanted,” she murmured. “So, I just got a little bit of everything.”

  Amanda dug into a blueberry muffin, and Win
nie chose a cranberry scone.

  Beatrice wrapped her hands around her mug, content to just consume caffeine for the moment.

  “We have to decide what to do about the purse,” Winnie said.

  “I don’t think we should tell anybody about it,” Amanda said. She glanced over at Beatrice’s lap, where the purse was hidden in the denim bag. “I don’t see how any good can come of it.”

  “It’s stolen,” Winnie reminded them.

  “It’s a fake,” Beatrice declared. “The police shouldn’t even be involved, it’s not like it’s valuable.”

  “It’s valuable to whoever owned it,” Winnie shot back.

  Beatrice, again, considered telling her sisters about the memory card she’d found hidden in the purse but decided it probably wasn’t the best idea. She wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the pictures she had envisioned Letty taking at Red Bug Slough, but if it did, she certainly wasn’t about to turn them over to the police or that horrid Axelrod woman.

  As though Winnie was reading her thoughts, she said, “I don’t understand why you’re looking for trouble, Beatrice. Letty fell. She tripped over some roots, hit her head, and baked in this forsaken southwest Florida heat that exacerbated all of her injuries,” she finished. “It’s horrible, it’s a tragedy, but it’s nothing more than that.”

  Before Beatrice could respond, the dog began to growl.

  The Concordia sisters all looked at him, surprised.

  “What—” Amanda began. “Oh, good morning.”

  A man wearing a black apron, dusted with flour, balancing boxes of baked goods, passed them without so much as a smile or even a nod of acknowledgement.

  The sisters looked at him.

  The dog growled louder.

  The man gave him the side-eye.

  “Sorry about that,” Winnie apologized, hopping up to open the door to PerC Up for him. “Usually, he’s quite friendly.”

  The man huffed, muttered something under his breath, and walked into the coffee shop.

  “He must be the baker,” Amanda said. “It’s weird that his store is never open.”

  “Piper says that he keeps to himself,” Winnie supplied helpfully. “Apparently, his wife died a few months ago and he’s become a bit of a recluse ever since.”