“That’s never going to zip up with that box in it,” Gin observed. “Here, I have a shopping bag with me. Use it.”
“Thanks.” She accepted the offering and dropped the box into the bag, then closed her purse securely. Finally feeling organized, she sat back to look out the window.
A digital sign caught her attention. It revealed the temperature was in the high nineties and she wished she hadn’t looked. Knowing the number seemed to make the heat even worse. If past experience was anything to go by, her short shift at the crisis centre would be busy. Rising temperatures seemed to correlate to escalating tempers and bigger problems; the reception area at the centre would likely be full.
“I hate summer,” Gin grumbled.
Taking the remark as an invitation to talk, she responded and they discussed the weather. It wasn’t a scintillating conversation, however, considering it was with Gin that wasn’t surprising.
The bus approached her stop and she stood up, purse strap slung over her shoulder.
“Don’t forget your stuff.” Gin jerked her chin towards the shopping bag that sat on the seat.
“Thanks.” She should have just left the darned things at work!
Once at the centre, she stowed her items under the reception desk and started her shift. Clients came and went, some for counselling while others used the pool table or cooled off in front of the large fans that were strategically positioned around the building.
“Hey, Lou!” Neil, one of the counsellors, gave her a wave. He was a nice guy and had shown an interest in her, but getting involved with someone wasn’t part of her plan. She had her eyes set on earning a degree and in the meantime worked at the diner to pay the bills and helped at the centre to gain experience.
While she wasn’t allowed to counsel the clients at the centre, she helped with filing and fielding non-emergency phone calls, made sure the pamphlet racks were filled, sorted mail and offered a friendly smile to those who were waiting in the reception area. All the while she was watching and listening to the professionals. It was knowledge that might help her in her own career one day.
“Hi Neil. Looks like a full house today.”
“Yep.” He handed her a file and lingered to talk for a few minutes before heading back to his office for his next appointment.
If she were looking for someone, Neil would be the kind she’d choose. There was nothing remarkable about his appearance, but he was calm and steady and seemed the sort who would stick around for the long run. In her experience, most men were about as reliable as an ice cube in the desert. If you found a good one you had to hang on to him with both hands or he’d melt away.
One hour passed and then another until it was closing time. She and Neil checked no one was left inside and locked the door.
“Can I give you a ride home?” Neil paused at the bottom of the steps. “The car’s air-conditioned.”
She nudged her glasses up on her nose, sweat already dewing her skin even though they’d only been outside a minute. “Tempting, but no. I have to get groceries on the way home.”
He nodded, his shoulders slumping. “Then I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
“Right.” She gave him a polite yet distracted smile, not wanting to encourage him. “Here comes my bus. Bye.”
He watched until she was inside and seated, then gave her a wave through the window. She nodded and sank down in her seat wishing he hadn’t.
It was awkward, constantly rebuffing his attempts to start something between them.
It wouldn’t have been a problem years ago, her old self reminded her. We would have accepted anyone who’d shown an interest.
“And look where it got us,” she countered. “Nowhere.”
Folding her arms, she firmly ignored the voice in her head. Chicago hadn’t always been her home, but she was making a new life for herself here. She had goals and she was sticking to them. The mistakes of the past—expecting to find the perfect man to complete her life and make her happy—wouldn’t be repeated.
As the bus wound its way through the streets, she mentally reviewed her shopping list and, at the stop for her local grocery store, jumped off the bus to join the throngs on the sidewalk, all of whom looked equally hot and tired now that their workday was over. When she reached the store, she lingered inside longer than necessary, enjoying the cool air until one of the clerks began to look at her suspiciously.
He glanced at a sign on the wall. “No loitering.”
She gave him a broad smile. “Just getting my second wind before heading back out.”
“Yeah, well do that somewhere else. We’re running a business here, not a cooling station.”
Part of her wondered if he would have been so rude if she’d looked like she used to. Glasses and mousy brown hair didn’t gain her special favours the way blond hair and tight clothing had. Not that she was complaining; her current appearance was better suited to her goals.
She smiled sweetly at the clerk. “And you have a lovely day, too.”
Not surprisingly, he took no notice of her comment.
Back home, people lingered in the stores chatting with the owners or other customers, her old self said, but not here.
She had to agree. Everyone was always in a rush to get somewhere, not quite meeting each other’s gaze. She’d found it odd at first, still did if the truth be told. Not everyone was like that, just enough that it could get discouraging.
The groceries paid for, she stuffed them in the shopping bag Gin had given her and started the walk to her apartment.
Her old self made disparaging comments as the heat reflecting off the concrete made it seem hotter than it already was. Back home, the streets are lined with trees, their leaves rustling gently and casting shade onto the sidewalk.
Giving her head a shake, she halted her journey down memory lane. This was home now. No point in moaning about what you no longer had. Instead, she focused on getting to her apartment, taking a shower, cool clothing, a fan pointing straight at her…
She twitched her shoulders as she paused at an intersection waiting for the light to change, a sense of discomfort coming over her as if someone was studying her. Looking around, she didn’t see who it might be. No one appeared to be paying attention to her. Maybe it was the heat getting to her. Sweat dripping down your spine was enough to make anyone twitchy.
The light changed colour and she crossed the road, walked one more block, then turned the corner. A bunch of young men were gathered near a car, looking under the hood, laughing and jostling each other. They barely glanced her way.
Just a few years ago, she would have put an extra sashay in her walk to draw their attention instead of ducking her head as she did now. Funny how life changed a person.
Her building came into view and she quickened her pace, the image of a cold glass of water acting like the proverbial carrot. When a blur of movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention, she instinctively turned her head towards it, half-stepping aside in expectation of a skateboarder or a cyclist zipping down the sidewalk. Instead something…or someone…rammed into her shoulder.
With a cry of surprise, she stumbled, her arm tightening on her bag of groceries, the other shooting out to offset her shifting centre of gravity. “What the…?”
Two words were all she managed before the momentum had her crashing into a brick wall. Her glasses went flying, her teeth clicked together. Sickening pain exploded in her head while the bag of groceries slid from her now limp arm and the skin was abraded from her cheek by the rough surface of the wall.
A kaleidoscope of self-defence pointers from a class she’d taken swirled through her head. Before she could even grasp onto one of them, someone snatched her purse.
Some say your life is worth more than your luggage. Too bad her reflexes hadn’t remembered that. As the strap slipped down her arm, she automatically tightened her grip, jerking it back towards her.
“Give it to me!” The mugger yanked harder on the purse.
Her assailant gained possession of the purse and fled down an alley.
She took a staggering step after him then stopped. It was pointless. He’d moved incredibly fast and super-human speed hadn’t been covered in her class. Maybe she should ask for a refund. The small huff of laughter that accompanied the thought threatened to dissolve into tears and she blinked hard, pressing her trembling lips together.
Falling apart isn’t an option, the voice inside reminded her.
Right. It was a fact she’d learned young in life. When things went wrong, you pulled yourself together and carried on, trying to find a hint of a rainbow amongst the rain. She wasn’t injured—at least not much—and now she had an excuse to buy a new purse. Yeah, that was a cause for celebration. Sort of.
She leaned against the wall, cradling her hand to her body and trying to steady her nerves.
“Hey lady! You okay?” The sound of pounding feet accompanied the shouted words and then she was surrounded by the young men she’d seen moments before.
“My purse…” Still stunned, she mumbled the words.
“Where’d he go?” One of them asked.
She nodded towards the alley and a few of the men took off running in search of the mugger.
“Are you hurt?” Those who remained behind hovered around her not seeming to know what to do, some shifting their attention from staring at her to picking up her groceries.
She reached up to check her head. No blood. Her finger throbbed where her nail had ripped and her cheek and arm hurt, but it could have been worse.
“I’m fine. Thanks. Just a bit shaken.” She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled while trying to believe her own words. “Do you see my glasses?”
Someone found them and handed them to her. At least they weren’t broken. Another bonus.
Sliding the glasses on helped, and the world coming back into focus gave her a sense of control. She took another deep breath and watched her groceries being stuffed back into the shopping bag. The carton of milk must have survived; there was no puddle on the pavement though the bread looked lop-sided from its rough treatment and tampon box no longer sported sharp ninety-degree corners.
“Maybe we should call the cops?”
“No!” Her reply was sharper than intended yet no one made a comment. In fact, they seemed relieved which had her wondering if they’d been hot-wiring the car rather than fixing it. Or maybe they just didn’t want to waste time being interviewed by the police.
“This yours?” One of those who had chased the mugger reappeared holding her purse.
“Yes, it is! Thank you.” She reached for it, hope momentarily surging. Getting her things back was better than a new purse any day.
“We found it tossed in a corner. He probably took your money then dumped it.”
“Right.” She did a quick search of the contents. Her phone was still there. Her tips were gone though, and so were her wallet and ID.
“Can we walk you home or call someone?”
Wetting her lips, she tried to control the panic that was filling her at the thought of her missing ID. “I…I live over there.” She gestured towards her building. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for the offer.” Forcing her lips to curve upward, she looked at her rescuers. “I really appreciate your help. It’s good to know there are heroes in the neighbourhood.”
“Hey, no problem.” They puffed up at her choice of words, no doubt pleased with themselves. “If we’d noticed what was going down, we would have got here sooner. The bastard wouldn’t have stood a chance against us.”
“I’m sure.” She smiled again, accepting the bag of groceries that was handed to her, hugging it and her purse to her chest. “I’m going to head home now. Thanks again.”
Not wanting anyone to see how truly shaken she was, she walked away with her head up and her pace steady. When she reached the entrance of her building, she glanced back. The young men were still standing at the sight of the mugging, talking and high-fiving each other. The tale would grow to epic proportions before the night was over. At least her name wouldn’t be part of it. Anonymity was one of the bonuses of living in a big city.
She entered the building, only relaxing when the door shut behind her and she was safely ensconced in the familiarity of the foyer.
When she’d first come to the city, she’d envisioned living in some swanky high-rise, maybe even meeting a rich executive like you’d read about in a book. Now she was happy to be in her old walk-up with no air conditioning. It had been a nice enough place in its day but, like the rest of the neighbourhood, it was showing its age. In a few years, it would probably be turned into upscale condos but for the time being it was shabby yet affordable, the latter being the important consideration.
Before heading upstairs, she took one last look outside, scanning the street. Not that a mugger would stay in the area, she assured herself. He’d be off spending her tip money or trying to use her credit card. She’d need to cancel it and her debit card, too. And replace her ID. Damn!
She began the climb to her apartment. The stairs were good for her butt, or so she told herself each time she made the trek up the numerous flights. Unfortunately, it was also hotter, the warmth from the other units rising to hers while the sun beat down on the flat roof, turning her place into an oven. It had been hard enough to find an apartment within her budget and close to work, amenities like A/C were out of her reach.
By the time she was at her door, sweat had her glasses sliding down her nose and the tendrils of hair that had escaped her ponytail sticking to her cheeks. She fumbled with the key, trying to fit it into the lock and had just succeeded when the door suddenly swung open.
“Hey there, Lulu. Perfect timing.” Roxi, her roommate, grinned at her not seeming to notice her reaction. Instead, she reached for the bag of groceries and emptied the contents on the entryway table. “You remembered the bread. Yay! I’m starved.”
“Yes, I remembered.” She pushed the door shut and locked it then gave the handle an extra tug just to be sure.
“How was your day?” Roxi didn’t wait for an answer and continued talking as she made her way to the kitchen. “Mine was miserable.” She frowned at the misshapen loaf. “What happened to this?”
“I...er…dropped it. What made your day miserable?” She didn’t want to talk about her own experience yet, needing time to absorb the comfort and safety of being home behind a locked door. On autopilot, she picked up the milk and cheese from where Roxi had dumped them; the girl really was a slob.
“I had a go-around with my mother again.” Roxi was smearing peanut butter on a slice of bread, her shiny black hair pulled back in a high ponytail that bobbed with each movement.
Roxanne Dominique Accardo was perpetually hungry yet never seemed to gain an ounce, her figure model-thin whereas Lou’s tended to be more rounded. It wasn’t a fact that bothered her too much; the world needed a variety of shapes to keep things interesting, right?
“I should have known better than to call her.” Roxi spoke around a mouthful of food.
“Is she upset because she hates your new boyfriend, Joe, or whatever his name is?”
“No. I dumped him last night. Good riddance, too. He was a douche. Make that an asshole and a douche!”
“Oh.” She side-stepped around Roxi to put the groceries away, then took an apple out of the fridge, not because she was hungry but because it gave her something to do while she listened to Roxi’s diatribe.
In the time they’d been roomies, she’d learned Roxi’s family relationship was volatile, mostly due to Roxi not wanting to join the family business. Exactly what that business was, she wasn’t sure; Roxi was always vague on that point. Once she had even asked, half-jokingly, if it had to do with organized crime.
&n
bsp; Roxi had laughed. “Not every Italian is part of the mob, you know! Besides, do you think I’d be living in a place like this if I had connections?”
“I suppose not.”
“Well, there you go!” Roxi had cracked her gum and then widened her eyes so she looked exceptionally innocent, which had left Lou wondering how truthful her answer had been. However, she was a decent roommate so it was probably wise not to ask too many questions.
Now, it seemed Roxi’s mother was complaining about her current job. “Mom doesn’t like me working at a dry cleaners. She said she’s read about the chemicals being bad for you.”
“I’m sure they are.”
“Yeah, but I find great stuff in the pockets of the garments people bring in.”
“Stuff? Like money?” The comment caught her attention.
“Sometimes, but I return that. I mean bits of paper, receipts. You never know when there might be interesting information.”
“Should I ask what you do with those interesting bits of information?” She shifted, not feeling comfortable with where the conversation was going.
Roxi cocked her head and appeared to think for a minute before grinning and giving a wink. “No. Probably not.”
Past experience had taught her she didn’t want anything to do with shady dealings; it had almost gotten her killed last time. Nope, she’d play deaf and dumb to that aspect of Roxi’s life. Setting down the uneaten apple, she blurted out her own news.
“I was mugged on the way home.”
“What? Why didn’t you say something?” Roxi turned in the middle of getting a glass from the cupboard and fixed her with an incredulous stare.
“I…”
In typical Roxi fashion, she didn’t wait for a reply, beginning an inquisition while turning her this way and that. “Are you hurt? There’s a scrape on your arm and your cheek. I can’t believe I didn’t notice. I’ll call the cops and—”
“No. I’m okay. You don’t have to call anyone. The guy is long gone.” She brushed Roxi away. “I’m just shaken up.”
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