by Kelly Holm
You were always so kind and understanding. I know I wasn’t always easy to be with, I have a lot of baggage, but you didn’t care, you just loved me anyway, and for that, I will always be grateful. You made my life so full.
That fateful night you brought Mila to me, I wasn’t sure what I would or even could do, but you had complete faith in me, and it paid off. She was exactly what I needed to make my life complete, and I sincerely thank you for that. I know the little family we made with Mila was anything but conventional, but to me, it was perfect.
He had to stop, it was already making him tear up, and he just wasn’t ready for that right now. He would read the remaining portion when he gets to Hoople. He carefully folded the letter back up and placed it neatly in the envelope. Leave it to Krystal to think ahead and say goodbye. He was perpetually amazed by her, and everything she did just made him love, and miss her more. He took a large gulp of his beer and wiped his eyes before any tears could fall. It wasn’t like him to be so weepy; he wasn’t sure how to handle it. Her death really caught him by surprise; he never thought she would go before him.
“Here you go; is there anything else I can get for you?” Delores asked as she placed the steaming hot ‘Famous burger’ in front of Leo.
“Wow, this looks amazing… just ketchup please.”
After finishing his meal, Leo went back to his room, it had been a long day, and he was exhausted.
Chapter 4
The clock radio on the nightstand struck 3:20 a.m. and Larisa woke up in a cold sweat. She pushed the blankets down and turned to look at the clock, still early, she thought, I can go back to sleep. She laid there on top of the covers for a few minutes while she tried to calm herself down; this was becoming a regular thing, and she was getting really tired of it.
Each night she would go to sleep with hopes that she would sleep through the night, but it rarely happened that way. It felt like almost every night; she would wake up in a cold sweat from a panic attack. Larisa forced herself to think of pleasant things as she tried to drift back into sleep, but her mind kept drifting back to that fateful night, twenty-five years ago, and the white office supply box.
Since sleep didn’t appear to be coming any time soon, she decided to pull out one of the trashy romance novels she had stashed in a box next to her nightstand and read awhile. The box was left by the previous owner in the master bedroom. Larisa found it the day she moved into her new bungalow and decided to keep it; she thought it was a bit sad though since the previous owners sold because of a nasty divorce. Whenever she had trouble sleeping, she would pull one out and read for a while; it always put her to sleep, that is, until recently.
Larisa sat up and placed two pillows behind her back so she could lean back comfortably while she read, then reached over to pull one of the paperbacks out of the box. What’s it going to be tonight, she wondered. She had a pretty good idea once she got a glimpse of the cover; there was a handsome man with shoulder length dark brown hair embracing a beautiful blonde-haired woman wearing a slinky bikini on the beach, this one will do, she
thought.
She read for about twenty minutes when she started to feel a little sleepy, so she put the book down, fluffed her pillow, skooched down under the covers, and closed her eyes again. For the next few hours, Larisa went in and out of sleep. When she did sleep, she had nightmares of the past; so, when her alarm went off promptly at 6:00 a.m., she was more than ready to get up.
As she sat at the breakfast bar, nonchalantly paging through the current issue of Vogue and picking at her avocado toast, she thought about her day. She had an important listing appointment scheduled for this morning, one that could open several new doors for her. Larisa was very excited about the opportunity and also a little apprehensive; what if I have another one of those panic attacks during the listing, she thought.
Larisa knew she would have to figure out how to get her anti-anxiety medication refilled, and soon. The panic attacks were coming more often, and they were getting worse. She had been lucky so far that none of the attacks happened while she was with a client. Her main problem with the doctors was that they wanted to talk about the issue. For her, that wasn’t an option, she would never tell another living soul what she did. She would have to make something up, but what…
She decided to take a chance and sent a text to Molly,
Do you have the number for that doctor with the sleep meds?
After a few minutes, Molly sent a text back,
Dr. Mila Thorton, (213)555-5364, you’ll like her.
Larisa didn’t want Molly to think the appointment was for
her, so she told a little lie…
Not for me, please keep confidential, for a client.
Larisa hoped that by telling Molly it was for a client, she would be able to keep this request between the two of them and not broadcast it all around the office. It was a risky move, but it was a risk she had to take. She had to get these attacks under control; and soon, before they ruined her life.
After she finished eating, she walked into her bedroom and gave herself a once-over. Larisa tried to smooth her shoulder-length auburn hair, but today it seemed to have a mind of its own. So rather than fighting with it all day, she grabbed a binder from the drawer and neatly pulled all the hair back into a low pony and placed a beautiful barrette over the rubber binder. She applied a second coat of mascara and called herself done.
Larisa went to her closet and picked out a complimentary pair of heels to go with her outfit. Ever since Larisa made her first million, she has been obsessed with Jimmy Choo’s and over the years has collected several pairs. It was quite rare to see Larisa in any shoe that didn’t have at least a three-inch heel; she liked the feeling of being taller, even if the extra height only brought her to five foot seven.
When Larisa arrived at the listing appointment, she looked at her watch and realized she was a little early. She used the extra time constructively and looked up the therapist that Molly recommended making sure she was on the up and up. She checked credentials, and everything checked out, so Larisa mustered up the courage, dialed the number, and made an appointment for later that week.
Once the appointment was set, she actually felt a sense of relief. Larisa had no idea what she would tell the therapist was
wrong and causing the panic attacks, but she had a few days to come up with something. She put the appointment to the back of her mind and concentrated on her listing appointment.
She was meeting with Mrs. Gisela Roth, a new client. Larisa really wanted this listing and was thrilled when she got the call from Mrs. Roth, for the opportunity. The house was on Mockingbird Lane, in the famous Bird Streets neighborhood of L.A. This would be her first opportunity to have a listing in this area. These listings usually went to other brokers more accustomed to the area, but luckily for her, Mrs. Roth wanted someone different. If this listing went well, Larisa could expand her territory and possibly her business.
As she was getting out of her car, she was amazed by the property. It was a beautiful two-story, Mediterranean Revival style home with smooth white stucco siding, and a terra-cotta tile roof. The front doorway had an elaborate arch and a very tall carved-wooden door. The facade was beautiful, with detailed stonework around the door and windows above. The house itself was quite large, eight-thousand square feet of living space, and the lot was almost two acres. From the back of the house, Larisa imagined that there were stunning views of the city. She was very excited to see the inside.
As she walked up to the sidewalk of the impeccably manicured grounds, she couldn’t believe how beautiful it was; every plant was trimmed to perfection, and even the perfectly placed palm trees along the front of the house seemed to be swaying in the breeze in unison. She walked up to the front steps, admired the grand front door, and rang the doorbell.
Moments later, the door was answered by a young woman in her mid-to-late twenties, with long dark hair pulled neatly to the
side and secured in a p
ony. She was wearing a conservative brown, A-line dress with beige pumps and gold jewelry.
“Hello, I am Francesca, Mrs. Roth’s personal assistant. Please come in and make yourself comfortable. Mrs. Roth will be with you shortly. Would you like something to drink while you wait?” She asked as she escorted Larisa into the den.
“No, thank you.”
“Very well, Mrs. Roth will be with you shortly.”
When Francesca left, Larisa started looking around the room. It was fascinating; there were several awards on the shelves, each with a photo of Mr. Roth receiving the award. On the walls there were several photos, some old, some new; Larisa thought some were probably family; others were of famous actors, musicians and even some presidents standing alongside the Roth’s.
“Ms. Bergman, I presume,” Mrs. Roth said with a thick German accent when she entered the room.
Gisela Roth was a petite woman; no more than five foot two, with soft gray hair, neatly pulled back into a chignon. She didn’t wear a lot of make-up, just enough to enhance her natural beauty. Mrs. Roth didn’t have many wrinkles for her amazing age of ninety-eight, just a few small lines around her eyes and mouth. She wore a beautiful white Chanel skirt suit, with gold and black detailing. Around her neck, she wore several strings of pearls, all intertwined to make one piece. She finished the look with black pumps.
“Mrs. Roth. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Larisa said, as she extended her hand to shake.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you also, my dear.”
“What an amazing room of memories you have here. May I ask what your husband did for a living?”
“Of course, my husband, Wilhelm, wrote screenplays for a living.”
Larisa noticed a black and white photo in an ornate metal frame which looked like it had been taken in the forties of a very young bride and groom.
“What a beautiful photo; is this your wedding photo?”
Mrs. Roth walked over and picked up the photo and ran her fingers over it as she remembered the day.
“Oh yes, that is Wilhelm and me in Germany right after we got married. We were so happy that day… but it was the last time either of us saw our families,” she said sadly.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, what happened?”
“The following day, while Wilhelm and I were on our way to London for our honeymoon, soldiers moved in and completely destroyed our village. They killed everyone they could find and stole anything that was of value. What they didn’t steal, they destroyed.”
“Oh, my goodness, that sounds horrible.”
“When we returned from London a couple of weeks later, there was nothing left of our village or our families. We couldn’t see a future for ourselves in Germany anymore. We thought about starting over in London, but with the war and all, we felt that it would be safer for us to leave Europe altogether and start a new life here.
“Wilhelm had a friend who left Germany a few years earlier. He was living here in California writing screenplays for Hollywood and making a good living at it. So, we took a leap of faith and moved out here. When we arrived in 1946, Wilhelm’s friend offered him a job writing screenplays for a studio, and the rest, as you say, is history.”
“What an amazing story. I must say, your home is absolutely beautiful, I can’t wait to see the rest of it.”
“Oh, thank you, dear, Wilhelm had it built for us shortly after we got here. I raised seven children here, and now, I have
thirteen grandchildren and six great-grandchildren.”
“Is this your entire family?” Larisa asked as she looked a large family portrait hanging on the wall in the hallway just outside of the den.
“Oh yes, that’s most of us, that was taken about ten years ago, right before my dear Wilhelm passed. I have three more grandchildren now and one new great-grandchild.”
“You have a beautiful family; you must be very proud.”
“You’re sweet to say that, would you like to see the rest of the house now?”
“That would be lovely.”
Mrs. Roth took Larisa on a tour of the property, during which she told several stories of her life. Larisa didn’t mind, the stories were compelling, and some of them were pretty funny. She was really enjoying the appointment. When they finished the tour, they went and sat outside by the pool.
“Well, my dear, what do you think, can you sell this for me?”
“Absolutely. Did you have a price in mind?”
“I’ll leave that to you, as I’m sure you’ve done your homework, and know what the property is worth; however, out of curiosity, what do you think it’s worth?”
“Going by what has recently sold in the area, I think we should list it at $29,995,000. I think at that price we can get some bidding wars going and possibly drive up the price. Do you need to find a new home before you close on this one?”
“I’m going to move to the beach house in Newport. Two of my daughters live in Irvine, and I’d like to be closer to them and the grandbabies.”
“Ok, then, I have everything I need to get started. I’ll put the necessary paperwork together and get the property listed for you.”
“Thank you very much. I do have one request; I don’t want you to sell to a developer. I would like this home to go to a family that will actually live here. I expect that they would want to remodel, but I don’t want to see this house torn down. I would rather hold on to the house than have it go to a developer, do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am. You should know that it may take a little longer, but I completely understand, and will do my best to find the perfect buyer for you.”
“Thank you. Now, I have another engagement I have to prepare for, so Francesca will show you out.”
“Thank you very much and I’ll be in touch,” Larisa said, as Mrs. Roth left the room and Francesca walked in. What an eccentric and interesting lady, Larisa thought.
Larisa got back into her car and headed to her office. As she was pulling into her office building parking lot, her phone rang, it was her assistant Molly calling.
“What’s up, Molly, I’m in the parking lot.”
“Oh, I was just calling to tell you that a courier just dropped off an envelope for you.”
“Ok, I’ll be inside in a few.”
Molly was a good assistant; she just wasn’t very confident and checked in way too much. Larisa tried talking to her about it, but Molly didn’t change. It was frustrating to Larisa, but she didn’t have time now to train a new assistant, she would have to make due. Molly was waiting at the door when Larisa walked in.
“This envelope just arrived by courier.” Larisa took the envelope and started to open it as she walked back to her office with Molly following closely behind.
“Oh, cool, now I don’t have to use will-call,” Larisa said casually, as she pulled a Dark Horses concert ticket and back-stage pass out of the envelope and walked into her office and sat down.
“Is that what I think it is… a ticket and back-stage pass for the Dark Horses concert tonight?”
“Yes.”
“How did you score that? I’ve been trying to find tickets for weeks. They’ve been sold out for months.”
“I know someone in the band.”
“You know someone in Dark Horses? Who? Who do you know in Dark Horses?”
“I know the guitar player, Zak Rhodes, and his wife, Ariana Montrichard.”
Molly was beside herself with envy.
“How?”
“I used to rent their guest house. It was several years ago, but we’ve kept in touch.”
“In touch like you go to their house for dinner or parties?”
“Yes, and I also swing by just to hang out too.” Larisa knew that Molly was green with envy, so she was having a little fun at her expense.
“That’s so awesome. I wish I knew a rock star and could go hang out with them,” Molly replied in a pouty voice.
“They are people just like us, but you’re right, it is pretty cool. Now, c
an we get back to work?” Larisa didn’t feel like going into any more detail with Molly.
“I guess; how did the listing appointment with Mrs. Roth go?”
“It went great, and that house, oh my God, it’s amazing. We’re listing it at $29,995,000.”
“Isn’t that a little low?”
“Maybe by a thousand or two, but I’m hoping to create a bidding war and drive up the price. It’s such a unique property, it’s difficult to price. There isn’t anything like it in the area, most of the other homes are all new moderns.”
“I’ll get the paperwork ready and leave it on your desk.”
“Actually, would you have it couriered over to Mrs. Roth? I’d like to get started as soon as possible. We also have to figure out what to do for the broker open, which we should schedule for next week sometime. It’s a Mediterranean style home in the bird streets, so let’s get some ideas going for it.”
Molly took some notes, and when Larisa was done, she got started with the paperwork and planning the broker open. When Molly left, Larisa got up and closed her door so she could concentrate better. Larisa sat down at her desk, closed her eyes, and tried to clear her mind. Although her listing appointment went exceptionally well, she was still feeling stressed.
As she tried to relax and control her breathing, her mind started to drift. She was suddenly thinking about when her mother died; Larisa was only fourteen years old. Life changed drastically once Mama was gone. Her brother, Leo, was already living in Sacramento, playing pro football for the Sacramento Sequoias, so it was just her and her father left at home.
At first, her father tried to manage, but as time went on, it became harder and harder for him. He missed her mother so much; he could hardly handle life without her. He started drinking a lot and staying out all night. Larisa pretty much had to raise herself. Leo would come home now and then, but he had a girlfriend, and when he wasn’t playing football, he was usually with her.