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Well, in my overactive imagination it was a flounce. It was more like a stalking click of heels down the hardwood hallway that led to her bedroom.
I plopped onto the couch and dragged the box closer to me. I didn’t recognize the company on the address label, but I did love presents. Who didn’t? My sister was famous for sending me odd little unexpected gifts.
At least she used to. Now it was all things wedding with a side of honeymoon and the occasional discussion about the CocoaBus craze she’d created in Happy Acres.
Guess we were more alike than I’d thought.
I dug out the old guitar pick I kept in my pocket for opening boxes. My ex…three exes back? Maybe it had been four. Bobby had been a long time ago. The only good thing I’d kept from ourveryshort-lived romance was the pick. One would think a guitarist could find his way around a clit.
Alas, no.
Unfortunately, he also thought it was okay to spread his lack of knowledge around. Evidently, a guitar could make panties disappear. And I’d been blind to it for a few weeks before catching a clue, followed by getting tested becauseugh.Gross.
But damn if the sharp end of a pick wasn’t the perfect thing to pierce packing tape. I ripped the box open and my stomach flipped.
“No way.” I flung the thick brown packing paper over my shoulder. “No actual way.” I dug into the box to find sturdy shelves and heavy black iron connectors.
No cheapWishknockoffs here, thank you very much.
I set aside assembly instructions and a huge brown bag of parts stuffed down inside the box.
Reverently, I smoothed my hand over the varnished shelves. How had my sister known? If it wasn’t her…
I couldn’t remember talking to the company, but maybe I’d sent an email begging for a review package in a late night fugue state. I definitely would have had it sent to my PO Box though. Some companies wouldn’t use PO Boxes, but there was an option with my post office to have a physical address for just those exceptions. I was damn careful.
Even if there was an off chance I was allowed into the inner sanctum of RID Inc., I would probably only rate a small basket. Nothing like this.
I hauled the shelves out and carefully set them on the floor. I would not be eligible for a top of the line storage unit, which I knew cost well into the three digits.
I was doing well for myself, but I was still basically a newbie. But oh my gosh, I had wanted this cart so very badly. I must’ve saved and liked advertising videos for this cart a dozen times.
Before I could think any harder about where the box came from, I decided it was a gift from the gods and I was taking it.
I spent the next hour ignoring the kitchen, breaking two nails, but finally managing to get all three shelves secured together.
It was even straight according to the tiny level in the box. I mean, who actually included that in the box? RID Inc. did. They thought of everything and that was exactly what made them top of the line.
I pushed the cart away from me and would you look at that? The wheels were smooth as freaking Kerry butter. I spun it around in the small space with a happy little laugh.
The front door slammed, and I looked up to see my favorite roommate struggling through the hallway. “Hey, Merry.” I went to help her. She was a nursing student and had a pile of books on her at all times.
“Oh, thanks.” She offloaded her notebooks and a textbook that looked like it could be a weapon. She shrugged out of coat and tugged off her hat so her lemon blond hair exploded in every direction. New pink streaks fluttered around her triangular face. At my wide grin, she threaded her fingers through her short cap of hair and wrinkled her nose. “My sister needed to try out something for her certification.”
“It’s cute.”
Merry rolled her eyes. “Can’t I ever be called sexy?”
I pointed to my own red curls. “Girl.”
She laughed in her bubbly Merry way, which reached into my chest and warmed me right up, before dragging me into a spontaneous hug. “What are you up to?” She leaned around me. “Oh, man, what is that? Den is going to lose her damn mind.”
I sighed. “Yeah, she already ripped into me. But look at it!” I pulled her over to show off the cart. It was full of little slots for my tools and had three tall shelves that would perfectly stack all my cooking supplies, all done in the most amazing industrial vibe. It was my heart in a cart.
“Oh, well,that’spretty. I’d love one for my bedroom.” She nudged me. “You know, just saying. Hook a girl up.”
“I wish. I can’t believe I was gifted this bad boy. It retails for like three hundred bucks.”
“What? Is there gold in the wheels?” She placed her palm on the top shelf and spun it. “Okay, so that’s pretty cool. It’s like that super expensive luggage that twirls like a ballerina.”
