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The only items I brought were all I had. My clothing was stuffed into two suitcases sitting next to the door. Personal care items were in a weekender bag, and a plastic tote of memories stood next to the bottom step. MyBuffy the Vampire SlayerDVDs and book collection filled the trunk of my mother’s car, but I could grab those later. Hopefully, Pete and Leticia had a DVD player.
Wandering through each room, I tried to picture who my father was. His girlfriend had lived here alone for the last seven years since his death, so there may not be much of him left. My mother kept quiet about him, claiming ignorance of who he was. She didn’t even have a picture of him after their weekend of passion that resulted in my conception.
Long ago, I stopped caring about a man that never wanted anything to do with us. Mom was enough. She was my everything. And a guy who never cast a thought about me wasn’t someone I wanted to waste my time thinking about. The only thing he had ever done was will this property to me in case of his girlfriend’s death.
Next to the living room downstairs was an old porch converted into a den. On a dark wood-paneled wall, I found a few pictures of a man that looked like me. He was fair with almond-shaped blue eyes and light golden hair. I was average height and skinny from lack of food, but he was taller and more built. His lips were thin, whereas I had my mother’s thicker pink pout. In the photos, he was often making signs with his tattooed fingers and not smiling. The serious expression did not match his features.
Maybe part of me was curious about this person I’d never known, but most of me had learned not to care. He never wanted us, so why should I waste thoughts on him? But seeing him in the pictures, like a real person, stirred some strange feeling of longing. Maybe he and I would have gotten along if I’d met him while he was alive. Were there mannerisms he had that I share? Did he like mystery books, too? My heart ached a bit, knowing that I would never find out.
A woman with obvious breast implants and bleached blonde hair was with him in most of the pictures. She often wore tiny dresses and too much makeup. That must have been Leticia. I noticed there weren’t pictures of her with anyone else taken over the last few years. She must have missed my father terribly to remain single.
To make the place habitable, I did a quick cleanup. By the time it was dark, I had given the kitchen and bathroom a once-over and thrown some fresh sheets on the bed. Dinner was a pot of found spaghetti and sauce consumed while reading my mystery book on the green Formica table in the eat-in kitchen. By bedtime, despite my heart filled with gratitude for my new home, it was difficult to fall asleep on my own. It had only been six months since Mom died and being by myself in a whole strange house was unsettling. If only I had someone I could call, someone to reach out to in case there were any problems.
Eventually, I gave up tossing and turning and picked up my book to read instead. Sometime in the early morning hours, I fell asleep with it on my chest.
Waking up was strange, not hearing Mrs. Reynolds pounding on the door and telling me to get out of her apartment. I’d spent my last six months of high school with her since I had nowhere else to stay. Even though she was a miserable guardian, I missed some part of having someone around. Now, I was completely alone.
Before I let fear and grief take me under, morning light spawned new hope as it streamed across my face through the yellow chintz curtain. Rolling over, I grabbed my notebook off the bedside table and wrote a list of errands that would keep me busy for the day.
Once completing all my adult tasks and making it to the grocery, I put away the food and glanced at my flip phone. There was still time for my last mission, but this was one I had been looking forward to. Peeking out of the half-curtain in the kitchen, I checked for creepy Eddie. Not seeing him, I darted to my car for the trip.
Five miles away, the red-bricked county library stored a great selection of mysteries. The place was practically empty, with only one other patron browsing the stocked aisles and one near the bank of computers. I picked up an Agatha Christie I had already read ten times, but it was worth another, especially since I always forgot whodunit.
A pink pixie-haired library attendant was at the front desk, sucking on a lollipop, feet propped on the counter. She was reading a book titledHer Four Firemen. The picture on the cover was of a group of half-dressed muscular men ogling a busty woman.
When I approached, she set her book down and smiled. “You’re new.”
“Uh, yeah. I am. Small town?” My palms sweat talking to someone new. It was always difficult for me to make friends, being as shy as I was. Now this person seemed to want to engage in a full conversation, which only made me feel like I suddenly had no words to say.
“We just don’t get many people in here except for regulars. I’m Piper. Do you need a card?” Her broad smile made me feel warm inside.
“Yes, I will. I was going to check this out.”
“Blech. Not enough smut for me. I mean, she’s a good writer, obviously, but I need to get wet when I read, you know?” My eyes widened at her commentary, and a small giggle escaped my lips. Piper handed me a form to fill out and pointed to a cup of pens. “Do you have your license?”
“I haven’t read those types of books before,” I said with a nod toward her book after gathering up some bravery. Taking a pen, I began to fill out the form.
Peering at my horrible driver’s license picture, she said, “Inessa? Interesting name. Well, you should. They give you good ideas for the bedroom.” She typed on her keyboard.
She seemed so forward, which, oddly, put me at ease. “I go by ‘Essa.’ But I don’t have to worry about, um, bedroom stuff. No boyfriend.”
“Well, you just moved here; I’m sure you’ll find one soon. You’re adorably cute and tiny. I’m single, too.” She slid my card back to me. “Hand me your phone.”
Was this a new library technology thing? Flipping open the device, I handed it to her.
She pressed several buttons before she handed it back to me. Her contact had been added, and she’d sent herself a text. “Piper Hendricks. Lover of smut books and wine. I’ll bring some over if you call me. We can do a housewarming party.” Piper felt like a person who wouldn’t take no for an answer lightly, so I supposed we were hitched now. The corner of my lips jerked into a grin. I’d made my first friend.
“Okay.”
“Now we can go out and find you a boyfriend or just have fun, though there isn’t much to do around here. Did you leave someone special back where you’re from?”
“No. I haven’t really dated before.” How could I tell someone about my crush? I’d even hidden it from my own mother. There was only one man for me, but he was unavailable. It was simply a face: no one else would ever do it for me.
“You’re only eighteen. It’s understandable. I’m twenty-one. I will help you. I’ve had plenty of experience. All of it was bad, so maybe I can guide you in making different decisions than I did.” She slid my mystery toward me. “Enjoy your book!”
Other than Eli, I’d never had a friend before. Taking care of my mother all those years left me little time for things like boys and wine. Now that I didn’t have anyone to nurse, maybe I could make some more, be one of those girls who goes to parties and hangs out on the weekends. My new life seemed to be going better than I had anticipated.
Thinking of Eli, I rushed home, hoping the mail had come. As I lifted the rusted lid on the box next to the front door, my heart raced at the sight of a white envelope with familiar blocked handwriting on the front. He already had my new address, but this letter had been forwarded from Mrs. Reynolds two days ago.
