Hope(less) (10 page)

Walking across the empty expanse alertly, I found the
repaired truck, but no Clay.  My stomach knotted seeing the truck whole again. 
Sam’s words about Clay’s intelligence haunted me.  A man raised in the wild
knew how to dismantle and put back together a truck.  I’d underestimated him.  No
matter which way I looked at it, it all pointed back to the fact I didn’t know
enough about Clay to try to guess what he’d do next.

Back in the apartment, Sam waited ready to go.  I didn’t
bother with a shower, but remade the bed and grabbed my own bag.  Retracing my
path, we made it to the truck with no sign of Clay.  Sensing my mood, Sam
didn’t say anything to me as I climbed in and we started the long drive home. 
It was several hours into the ride when I finally stopped looking behind us or
stretching my second sight looking for werewolves.  There’d been no sign of
Clay following us, but then there’d been no sign of Clay following me the night
before last either.

I was on edge the first week back not knowing if or when
Clay would show up.  I could have asked Sam if he knew what Clay planned, but
he hadn’t mentioned Clay since we’d left.  I feared that if I brought it up,
Sam would read into it thinking I missed Clay or something.  Since I didn’t
want Sam interfering or sending out a call to Clay causing him to show up when
he otherwise wouldn’t have, I kept quiet letting my worry eat at me until I began
jumping at my own shadow by mid-week.

Desperate for a distraction, I plunged feet first into two
part-time jobs during what should have been my free summer between high school
and college.  Working as much as possible, I barely saw Sam, or had much time
to think about Clay or the pack.  I woke up early each morning, showered, ate
breakfast, and packed a lunch, long before Sam got out of bed.  Though I’m sure
he heard me moving around.  And because I cared, I started his coffee before I
walked out the door.

Sam worked from home, spending his time investing on the
pack’s behalf.  It meant he didn’t need to get up until he felt like it.  Since
he occupied his days researching different financial ventures, he’d converted
the third bedroom into an office after I’d moved in.  His job suited him
perfectly because he could leave anytime he needed for pack business.

A dark house greeted me when I returned home in the evening,
worn out from the long day.  Usually, Sam had something in the oven or
refrigerator set aside for my dinner.  I’d eat and then go to bed, only to
start the cycle again in the morning.  I reserved Sunday as my downtime, which
I needed to hunt for an apartment or someone in need of a roommate.  My hectic
schedule successfully prevented thoughts of Clay from creeping in the entire
summer.

Three weeks before the start of school, I found the perfect
roommate, Rachel.  Watching the papers near school, I came across her ad for a
roommate.  We hit it off the first time we spoke on the phone.  She attended
the same school I’d enrolled in, going into her third year in the nursing
program, compared to the massage therapy program I enrolled in.  She rented a two-bedroom
house.  Her roommate from the prior year had moved out after graduation.  Rachel
tried living on her own over the summer, but the bills grew too expensive and,
she admitted, the house too quiet.

After our first call, I did some research and found the
house wasn’t in the best part of town, but I couldn’t find anything closer that
I could still afford.  Plus, the unoccupied bedroom she offered came furnished
with a bed and a dresser.  I didn’t own the one I slept on now and didn’t feel
right taking it with me when I left.  I called Rachel and let her know I wanted
the room.

Sunday, a week before school started, I once again packed my
possessions to move.  Sam pretended not to care I was leaving, but I knew he
did when I saw him slip some money into the emergency cash I kept hidden in a
half full tampon box in my dresser.  I’d only stepped out of my room for a
minute to grab my shampoo and brush from the bathroom.  When I walked back into
the room, he’d pretended to check the dresser as if ensuring I didn’t forget
anything.  I went along with it.

Packing didn’t take long.  Everything I owned fit into several
messenger bags and an old suitcase I’d gotten at a secondhand store.  By lunch,
we had everything I needed loaded into the back of Sam’s truck.  A passerby
wouldn’t even notice the small pile.

After one last look around the house to make sure I had
everything, we climbed into the truck and started the journey.  Excitement
filled me, but I fought hard to keep it from showing.  Sam sat behind the wheel
looking slightly depressed.  I didn’t think my joy would give him any comfort.

“You’ll call me if you have any trouble?”  Sam asked yet
again as we drove to Rachel’s place.

“Yes, Sam.  But I’m over four hours from you.  I’ll need to
face things on my own.”

“Not on your own.  Elder Joshua has moved nearby.  I’ll be
able to contact him if you have a need.”

Sam had mentioned Elder Joshua to me a few days after I
found Rachel.  I knew Elder Joshua recently moved there just for me, but didn’t
make any complaint.  As long as he stayed away until I needed something, we’d
get along just fine.

When we arrived, Rachel sat waiting on the front step of a
small ranch house for us.  She’d described herself on the phone as just over
average height with brown hair and eyes.  She’d left out everything else.  Her
deep brown hair hung silky-straight, and the beautifully bronzed tone of her
skin had me wondering if she had any African-American heritage.  Highlighting
her darkly lashed eyes, her perfectly arched brows didn’t appear tweezed or penciled.

At about five-foot ten inches, she passed average height with
long lean legs extending from her cutoffs.  Her V-necked top showed sufficient cleavage
to know she didn’t need to stuff her bra either.  Overall, she was gorgeous
enough to make a straight girl wonder if she should switch teams and that
worried the hell out of me.  Oh, not that I’d switch teams.  As annoying as men
were, I still preferred them.  No, her attitude the first time a man overlooked
her and focused on me, worried me.  Let’s face it.  Pretty girls can be very
mean.

I drew my brief gaze from her as she stood to watch Sam do a
Y turn to back into the driveway.  Using the side mirror of the truck, I studied
the house.

A cracked and uneven sidewalk led to the front steps.  Faded
yellow aluminum siding and brown trim gave the small house a slightly run down
look.  Rachel had mentioned room dimensions to me to prepare me.  After living
at Sam’s place, it did seem small from the outside.  Only two windows adorned on
the front of the house, a large picture window, which probably meant a living
room and, on the side of the house close to the driveway, a much smaller window. 
With the shade half drawn, I assumed it belonged to a bedroom.  How many houses
had just two windows on their front?  At least, the windows and roof looked
new.

As Sam backed into the driveway, I smiled and waved to
Rachel.  I had the window rolled down enjoying the warm day.

“Hi!  Gabby, right?”  Rachel said walking toward the truck
as Sam put it in park.  She smiled excitedly.

“Yes,” I answered her question as I stepped out of the truck. 
She caught me off guard by pulling me into an embrace.  I fought the urge to
pull back.

With my arms pinned to my sides, I added, “I hope you’re
Rachel.”  This time I did pull back, and she let me escape from her exuberant
hug.

“I’m so glad to see you look so normal,” she said looking
even happier than she had a moment ago.  “I was worried I’d end up with someone
weird when I put that add in the paper.”  Ah, that explained the happiness. 
Too bad, she had no idea how “weird” I was.

Sam came from around from his side of the truck.  “Rachel,
this is my grandpa, Sam,” I introduced.

“Hi, Sam!”  He quickly extended his hand for a friendly
handshake and I hid my smile.  He’d noticed her boisterous hug.

Rachel clasped his hand and offered, “Would you like to come
in and see the place before we carry everything in?”  She darted a puzzled
glance at the back of the truck.

I smiled and assured her, “We’ll be able to carry it in and
take a tour at the same time.  I don’t have much.”

We grabbed my bags and walked around to the front of the
house to go through the front door.  The front door opened to a small entry,
with the vacant bedroom immediately to the right, a small hall closet straight
ahead, and the living room to the left.

We all stepped into my room to set down my things.  I’d been
correct about the window being a bedroom window.

As Rachel had promised, it came furnished with a full-sized bed. 
Positioned in the middle of the room, I had enough space around it to walk.  Accustomed
to a twin, it seemed overly large.  Thankfully, I had the correct bedding for
it.  A gift from Sam.  The closet was a small rectangle, but more than enough
space for what I owned.  The only other piece of furniture in the room, a small
battered wood dresser, leaned against the interior wall.  Nothing decorated the
walls, which Rachel said she’d done on purpose, so I can add my own flare to
the room.

Rachel gave us the grand tour of the five-room house.  The
living room, long, but not very deep, occupied the rest of the front of the
house.  Rachel had it tastefully decorated.  Two sets of curtains hung in the
picture window.  The soft cream-colored set faced the road, while the inside set
matched the color of the worn brown leather couch centered in front of the
window.  Square wooden end tables holding cream-colored lamps with matching
shades crowded each end of the couch.

A chair, set at a sharp angle against the interior wall in
order to view the TV, used the remaining space in the living room.  The TV wall
she’d painted a medium brown while the standard off-white covered the rest of
the walls, including my bedroom and the entry.  A large dark-brown rug, a shade
close to the color of the couch and the curtains, covered all but a small swath
of the living room’s beige carpet.  Overall, the room looked comfortable.

Through the living room’s arched doorway, on the same wall
as the TV, a small hallway connected the living room, her bedroom, a tiny linen
closet, the kitchen, the bathroom, and the door to the basement.

Rachel turned left and briefly showed her room, the larger
of the two bedrooms, before turning around.  She opened the door between the
living room arch and the bathroom to flick on the basement light, explaining we
had plenty of room for storage and our own washer and drier.

Doing a quick wave at the bathroom, opposite her room, she commented,
“It’s small, but it could be worse.”

I peeked at it and noted that, although the bathroom measured
half the size of the one at Sam’s place, it didn’t feel cramped.  The pedestal
sink, tub and toilet abutted the wall shared with my bedroom.  White tile
covered the walls to about midway except for the shower area where the tiles
ran from tub to ceiling.  Dark blue paint coated the walls offsetting the overabundance
of white.  She’d also defused the white of the plastic shower curtain by
layering a dark blue cloth shower curtain over it using a cute white flower
clip to swag it to the side.  Everything looked neat and clean.

Finally, she led us to the kitchen.  An addition to the
kitchen, extending it five feet into the backyard, brought it from worthless to
functional.  Just inside the kitchen arch, to the right, a table for four abutted
the interior wall.  Beyond that, on the wall facing the driveway a counter
supporting the sink ran from wall to wall, providing two cupboards on each side
of the sink in addition to the two cupboards below the sink.  Two separate wall
cupboards hung on either side of the sink allowing light through the kitchens
only window.  The refrigerator stood to the left of the arched kitchen entry,
along with four more cupboards top and bottom.  Standing free the stove
occupied the unclaimed space on the exterior wall.  Just enough room separated
the cabinetry from the stove to allow the bottom cabinet door to swing open.  A
garbage can hid between the stove and the door leading to the wooden deck and
backyard.

Overall, the exterior condition of the house didn’t match
the inside.  The exposed carpet in the living room looked worn but relatively
stain-free.  The walls and ceiling could use a fresh coat of paint, but with
the string of switching roommates over the last five years, the landlord probably
hadn’t had a chance.

Rachel concluded the tour out on the back deck.  “We’ll take
turns mowing the lawn and shoveling the snow.  The garage is only one car.  To
be fair, we’ll switch parking too, but we’ll work that out when it starts
snowing.”

I nodded in agreement looking at our small backyard.  It
reminded me of the Newton’s and I suffered an uncomfortable moment of longing
before I clamped down on the feeling.  A new looking barn-red wooden fence
separated our backyard from the neighbor’s behind us, while evergreen hedges barred
the rest of the yard from the neighbors on each side.  With the deck and
garage, there really wasn’t a lot of grass to mow in back, but the front yard
made up for it a bit.

During the tour, Sam remained quiet closely looking over the
house, trailing behind us.  Outside, he stood beside me studying the backyard
as well.  After a few moments of quiet, he sighed and said, “Well, Gabby, looks
like you’ll be comfortable here.  I’d better start heading back.  You need
anything, let me know.”  He patted my cheek and stepped off the deck, neither
of us good with drawn out good byes.

I watched him climb into his truck and waved when he looked
back.  Again, my emotions ran amuck for a few moments as I watched him pull
away, nostalgia robbing me of my moment.  I’d been so ready to leave and start
out on my own I’d not inspected my feelings for Sam too closely.  Now I knew. 
I’d miss him a lot.