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CHAPTER FOUR
The following Saturday night, Carine pressed Heidi’s doorbell promptly at ten.
It took Heidi two full minutes to open the door. Carine knew that because she was staring at her phone’s clock, fretting about Heidi’s threat of dark things if she deemed Carine a no-show.
Carine barely made out the muttered “Shit” from behind the door before Heidi swung it inward.
The blonde leaned against the doorframe wearing a peach silk pajama top and blue-and-green flannel shorts and stared.
Suddenly nervous, Carine shifted her weight. “Did you forget? You said ten today.”
Heidi scoffed and gestured toward the inside of her condo. “Honestly, I figured you’d have something better to do.”
“I can’t imagine what that’d be.” Carine stepped out of her flip-flops near the coatrack and allowed herself a moment to take in the interior.
Heidi had evidently renovated the condo since the online MLS photos had been taken. The dark exposed beams on the ceiling and the wainscoting in the living room had been painted white, and warm cherrywood floors had replaced the low-pile gray carpet. Heidi had swapped out the brassy gold-toned fixtures with brushed nickel ones and hung heavy drapes in the windows rather than stark white blinds.
The place looked expensive, much like its owner.
The condo was a garden end unit at the far right of the structure, with the shared wall having a ceiling height of over fifteen feet. The ceiling sloped downward toward the free side of the unit, creating an architectural pathway that made guessing the floorplan easy. The bedrooms and bathrooms were on the high side, and the living area, kitchen, office, and sunroom were on the right, where the ceiling sported angles.
“Don’t worry,” Heidi said as she locked the door. “Kevin’s not here. He’s at Kalimah’s. Her roommate’s out of town, I guess. I try not to think about the things my adult son does when he spends the night in other places.”
“I thought he had his own place.”
“He did until he got in that trouble. He was between Tim’s and here when he was under house arrest and ended up not renewing the lease. His address, at least on paper, is here, but he’s a bit of a tumbleweed right now. Sometimes he’ll park his truck near job sites and sleep there. He had a camper put on. Saves him some driving when he’s doing long projects out in the sticks.”
“That doesn’t scare you?”
Heidi scoffed and padded toward the kitchen.
Carine would have never guessed that Heidi Dowd owned socks so far past their expiration date that they almost didn’t resemble the intended product. They’d probably been green once and had well-functioning elastic at her calves, but they’d turned gray and slouched around her ankles. The socks were the thick ones that people often purchased as gifts for coworkers they didn’t know well. Spendy and definitely warm, but impersonal.
Carine wondered who’d bought them and why Heidi had kept them.
Heidi opened the freezer, lifted a huge bag of broccoli florets, and produced a bottle of gin from beneath. “Of course his boldness scares me. You want a screwdriver?”
“Sure.”
Heidi rubbed her eyes with her free hand and moved to the barware cabinet. “Help yourself to a chair wherever you’d like. Make yourself at home. Normally, I’d have more specific hospitality suggestions for you, but I think faster when the sun’s out.”
Carine chose the sofa. It was a giant, tan monster of a chair with an imposing U-shaped layout. The furniture piece clearly delineated where one task area stopped, and another started.
She put her wallet and keys atop the polished wood table and folded her hands primly atop her lap.
She’d overdressed in her ironed blouse and leather skirt. She’d donned the clothes on the reasonable assumption that Heidi would beup, and she’d wanted to look nice for her.
The fact that Heidi could wear clothes that didn’t match and dead socks, have her hair pulled up into an off-center “influencer” bun, and still be absolutely spellbinding was pretty fucked-up, in Carine’s opinion. She supposed that having legs that were ten feet long and well-balanced tits hanging beneath silky fabric exponentially offset the grunge.
Most days, Carine was confused and didn’t know if she wanted to be Heidi or just be with her for a night. She was used to being confused about things.
“I can’t believe you’re not a night owl.” She reached for the only magazine atop the coffee table. It was one of the free local rags that informed tourists about seasonal events, restaurant and boutique locations, house of worship congregation times, and fishing excursion information. As always, there was a full-page Dowd Wave Cruisers ad on the back.
“Not anymore.” Heidi handed Carine a drink and took the tattered mag from her. “Ink is bleedy on these things. I have no idea why they changed from the one they used before. The new one smudges on everything. But anyway, it’s hard to stay up late when your neighbors are up at the crack of dawn and grunting on their patio. Can’t really say anything because they’re abiding by the hours prescribed in the owner’s association’s quiet hours covenants. I wish they would find somewhere else to do their circuit training.”
Carine clutched her shriveled, real estate agent heart. “They’re circuit training on their patio?”
Heidi sat on the opposite side of the U and sipped. She raised her eyebrows and let them fall.
