“Your uncle.”Anuncle? My mother never mentioned an uncle, or any other family for that matter. The man must sense my confusion and dips his head so that our eyes meet once again. He holds my gaze for a time too long, causing fiery warmth to flood my body. Do Iknow him? No, definitely not. But there is a familiarity there I can’t deny.
“I work as an estate lawyer. I’ve come all the way to this city to hand-deliver these papers to you on behalf of your uncle's will. And if you don’t mind, I would like to be on my way now,” he explains, saying the word city with a hint of disgust that is clearly visible on his face.
My old glass shield slides back into place—he’s like the rest, after all. But there is something magnetic that keeps me slightly open. Letting his influence find me, hoping to be surprised.
I’m sensing I might actually be in need of a night out after all. Or, quite possibly, the allure of this indifferent man with his attempted combed back hair and ocean deep eyes is actually affecting the girl who swore off thinking of men as anything other than just existing.
Danger,my mind tries to say, but my body says a totally opposite thing. One side of his mouth tips up, as if he were silently reading my thoughts. His mouth opens, and my gaze lingers as his lips part.
“You must be at the house within the next month in order to sign more paperwork.” And with that comment, he turns on his heels. “I left my number in the folder in case you need me, as well as a map to the estate. It’s nearly impossible to find on others,” he adds, sounding unsure if he wanted to relay that last bit of information.
When he reaches for the doorknob, he hesitates, and if I weren’t staring at him so closely, I might have missed his expression. A dense emotion sears through him in the shape of a clenched jaw and closed eyes. But then, he straightens his shoulders, opens the door and leaves. Meanwhile, I am left standing with my jaw on the floor along with the destroyed pieces of jade at my feet.
I’m starting to question if the encounter even happened by how fast the man came and went from the shop. Dropping a bomb of massive proportions on everything I knew of life at this moment. Could the Twilight Zone actually be a real phenomenon that I can’t seem to snapmyself out of?
My body struggles to keep my spine straight with all the emotions freely flowing through my still shaking limbs. Not only was I unsettled about the hidden ring and devastated that I broke my mother’s most treasured item, but then to add in an inheritance all within the half hour. This is a day for the books.
I look over the papers that were so nonchalantly placed in my hands. Could I really be the owner of a house, in a place I have never been, that was an uncle’s I have never known about? It seems insane, and that is how I feel.
The underlying heat within my core bubbles its way back up to the surface, leaving me wanting to crawl out of my skin. I’m entirely overwhelmed with the array of sentiment brewing within me, and now more in need of a drink than I think I have ever been before. It’s no surprise I close the shop early with a clove in my still trembling hand, more than happy to take Lollie up on her offer of a night out.
3
NIGHT OUT
DETROIT 1978
“Two more shots of tequila for my friend,” Lollie practically screams at the thin blond bartender. Dreading what two more shots would make the night into, but also knowing that at that moment I would not deny them after the day I just had. A day that included a not so charming, but intensely handsome green-eyed man and a house that is apparently now in my ownership.
After tall, dark and handsome left, I got on the phone right away. Dialing one of the few numbers left in the stack of papers the man put in my hands. I needed to see if I truly had an uncle who left me a house near New Orleans. Much to my disappointment, the call was not answered by the deep baritone I was hoping for, but it wasn’t fruitless.
In fact, I discovered I was willed a lot more than just a house. In a small town in southern Louisiana named Racine, sits a fully furnished mansion with a one hundred-forty-acre wooded lot. And even a couple of old cars from varying decades. I tried looking for the town on the map I had on hand in the shop, but it must be too small a town, for there was nothing to mark it. Odd that it’s clearly marked on the map the man gave me.
After an hour or more of inquiring about wills and trusts, Idecided to head down in the next few days to see the house for myself.Butfor now, as I look at my very darling, very blonde best friend, who must have learned a new smoky eye technique, I am going to enjoy this night out and pretend I haven’t a care in the world. And thankfully, the alcohol coursing through my body is doing just the trick.
I feel the wobbly mellow of the last three shots we consumed take effect as I look out at what surrounds me. Of all the bars Lollie could have picked, this one is definitely the least disagreeable. It sits a few doors down from the corner of Sixth and Lafayette Boulevard, and sees its fair share of traveling businessmen come through its doors every night.
The bar’s rich mahogany moldings and dark grey walls create a dreary ambiance, especially when mixed with the cigarette smoke. But that quiet sadness also holds a feeling that is inviting and warm in its melancholy magic. I’ve always been a sucker for that kind of unique charm.
The dance floor is merely a small tiled open area next to the jukebox. And when you look up at the giant disco ball above, it sets a luminous glow much like the full moon on a clear night in this concrete city. It almost seems out of place as it releases a glittery sheen across the bar that bounces off the glassy-eyed patrons occupying the floor below.
I down each shot that Lollie hands my way knowing we must be nearing number three, and she looks at me with eyes full of shock.
“I can’t believe your mom never told you about her having a brother.” She grabs my hand with a little squeeze to give her words extra effect. It’s an unnecessary action, because I’ve been living with the shock of the situation all day.
“You and me both, Lol. But can we not right now? Let’s just enjoy tonight.” It’s clear to me that my brain has hit overload, even though Lollie seems not to have picked up on that. So I add,
“I am not adult enough to think about all this right now.” Ormaybe not sober enough is what I mean to say. Lollie looks at me with a sideways glance and the widest grin.
“You’re twenty-six…” We both burst out laughing immediately after the words leave her dark pink lips, realizing how ridiculous I sound. In my defense, when you’ve grown up with someone for so long, you always feel a bit adolescent when you’re with them.
To get out of her knowing glare, I try to lure her to dance, nodding my head at her pick of suited men near the dance floor. Dancing is always the best option. And I feel like Ishouldbe dancing with what Lollie made me slip into for the night.
I’m wearing a metallic pink mini dress with bell sleeves and a plunging neckline that leaves little to the imagination, but I like it. It makes me feel like a big pink moon shining above an endless, deep sea. A sea that matches the eyes of averyalluring man I met today.
Frustration is a new embodiment I’ve taken on today. I am still kicking myself that I didn’t get his name, and I would be lying if I didn’t say I thought about him more than a couple times after he stormed out the door. I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact that I could even find someone who clearly didn’t want to be in my shop so appealing.
I discussed little with Lollie about the man. I know her ways too well. She would want to know all the details, and I don’t know that I trust myself not to reveal more of my lust fueled feelings than I want. She’d probably scout him out and bring him to my doorstep if she knew what he sparked beneath my skin.
