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A smile lights up my face. Immediately, some of the weight lifts away and I feel a little better as the music brings up older, happier memories. The record was one that my grandmother used to play, and this song in particular was one of her favorites. For just a moment, I actually manage to forget about all of my worries. I just lose myself in the music and stare out the window.
I'm not even aware of what time it is, or how long I’ve been standing here. I just want to enjoy this song. I promise myself I'll make time to deal with everything later, but I’m grateful to have a moment just to breathe. Actually, it's the only thing that has brought me even the slightest semblance of peace since I got the phone call that changed my whole world.
Maybe because listening to it was a shared pastime of ours. Hell, it was more than a past time, music was the core of who we both were. So sometimes it makes me feel better, but sometimes it hurts, too. I just have to kind of take it a day at a time, I guess.
It feels like the song ends too quickly, so I start it over again and spend a few minutes staring absently at the familiar cover art of the album. I smile once more as I remember looking at this same image a million times over the years in my grandmother’s house.
It’s small, but the nostalgia and positive memories manage light a little spark of hope in my chest. There’s always a way. I just have to find it.
Chapter 2 - Juliette
The next day I'm trying to keep my promise, at home seated at my kitchen table. Bills and papers are spread out across the table in front of me in mountains of organized chaos. I'm scribbling down some numbers in a notebook and checking my work on the calculator next to it.
After a few minutes I sigh and throw my pen down in frustration, rubbing my temples. I need to step away from this for a few minutes or my head’s going to explode. I get up from the table and walk over to the sink, pouring myself a glass of water and taking a massive gulp. The cold liquid does a little to settle my stomach, even if it does nothing for my nerves. I’m trying so hard not to let this stress get to me, but it doesn't seem to be working.
After going over everything, there was no denying it: I was going to be short on the rent for the shop for next month. No matter how many times I redid the numbers and tried to budget, the money to pay it just wasn't there.
I take another gulp water and force myself to take some deep, calming breaths before I start having a full-fledged panic attack.
Once I feel a little calmer, emotions under control, I can think more clearly. I start to try and brainstorm ideas on how to raise money quickly, but the more I think about it, what I really need to do is stall for more time until I can get the money.
That means I’m going to have to call the owner of the building and talk to him. I know what I have to do, but that doesn’t make it any easier to do. I take another drink, wishing briefly that there was a little “liquid courage” instead of just water, and put my glass in the sink.
"It’s now or never." I tell myself aloud.
I settle myself back down at the table and pick up my cell phone, scrolling for the landlord’s number in my contacts list. It doesn’t take me long to find, and after a deep breath to steel myself, I press the little phone icon and lift the phone to my ear.
I try to hold onto that calm I’ve collected as I wait for him to answer the phone. Our family has known the old man for a long time. He was a good friend of my grandfather. Hopefully if it comes down to it, I can play on his sympathies and nostalgia and convince him to give me just a little more time to come up with the money. I hate to do it, I’ve never had to stoop to something this low, but I don’t know what else I can do.
Finally he picks up the phone. "Hello?" He answers, sounding a little annoyed.
I wince. Not off to a great start, but I try not to let that discourage me from my plan. "Hi, Mr. Stevens,” I say sweetly, “It's Juliette. Albert’s granddaughter, with the record store?"
"Oh, yes, yes,” his tone softens and I feel that spark of hope return, “What can I do for you?"
