Carpe Bead'em (24 page)

 “Hhh…” I clear my throat because it
isn’t coming out. “How long?”

“Just a few days.” She sounds confident
in it only being a few days. “The entire building has to be clear of all
tenants, but they have to find their own place to go. If they weren’t so dirty,
we wouldn’t have this problem.”

If they weren’t dirty?
Hello, pot,
this is kettle calling.
I prepare for the aftershocks that my body is going
to have when these words leave my mouth.

“You can stay here.” It’s out like
daggers being thrown into the air. I hold onto a little bit of hope she’ll say
no.

“You are the sweetest child. We’d love
to. Can you come now?”

Of course I’m the sweetest child. Or is
it my time to pay her back for taking me in? I’m quickly beginning to remember
why I’ve spent most of my life getting out of this city.

I slip on a pair of flip-flops, and get
in my car to head south.

Apparently, now isn’t soon enough. She
calls seven times before I get there. They are standing on the curb waiting as
I pull up. I put their plastic grocery overnight bags in the trunk. Again, no
bugs in my house.

“Slow down.” Uncle Jimmy has one hand on
the dash with the other tightly grasping the door strap. I speed up. His
actions at the track still have me angry and making him a little uncomfortable
gives me a tiny bit of evil pleasure. “I wouldn’t learn how to drive in this
day and age. This is exactly why we see car wrecks. All the fancy cars going
fast.” Uncle Jimmy rants and raves the entire fifteen-minute drive, only
causing my right foot to press down harder.

“Very nice.” Aunt Grace refers to my
little Hyde Park cottage. “I really like your home away from home.”

Uncle Jimmy growls under his breath and
I ignore him all the way up to Lucy’s room. He’s walking a thin line and he
better be on his best behavior. Besides, I haven’t even told Wilson about this
yet.

 Thankfully, Lucy went back to Mason
Crossing as soon as we pulled in from Chicago. She couldn’t wait to see Beck.
But she’ll die when she finds out about Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy staying in
her room.

“Listen,” Aunt Grace takes my hand, “did
you put all the china and silver away. If he sees it, he’ll steal it back.”

The china is still in my Prada bag in
the back of the Solara. I’m not messing with bugs and keeping them in a hot
Prada bag in the trunk of my car for the summer will be a nice slow death
sentence. I smile, not revealing my secret.

I get their plastic bags and empty them
on the cobblestone walk to inspect them for cockroaches.

“What are you doing with our
undergarments left out for the world to see?” Uncle Jimmy is angry. He grabs
his things and stuff them in the plastic garbage bags. “Grace, get out here.
She’s gone and showin’ the world our things.”

I stand back listening to him curse and
scramble. He flings the door open. I jump back and see the disappointment on
Aunt Grace’s face.

“What?” I ask.

I might’ve been a little disrespectful.
Doesn’t she understand I don’t want to fumigate my house too.

She puts her head down in shame. Shame
in me, not in her.

“What?” I ask with a little guilt. “You
said you have bugs. I don’t want bugs in here. I just rent from Wilson.”

Aunt Grace goes
upstairs to check on Uncle Jimmy. It’s late and I don’t want to face Aunt
Grace. I’m ashamed of myself. I see the disappointment in her eyes and I can
feel the lack of gratitude in my heart.

Week Nine

He who has the
most beads…WIN!

Author Unknown

Chapter
Forty-Four

“You do this every morning?” Aunt Grace
startles me sitting on the front porch when I get back from my run, with her
barely-there hair, fox stole, red curly wig and Beadnicks bracelets up to her
elbows.

I roll my eyes, I’m going to waste
precious time cleaning them.

“Where did you get these?” I rub my
hands up her arm, fearing she has opened one of the sealed boxes ready for
shipment that’s sitting by the door.

“I asked you a question about this.” She
points to my running outfit. “Not these.” She acts like a hand model and gently
rubs the back of her hand down from her elbow to stopping shy of her wrist.

I reach over and take them off of her
one by one.

“Yes, I run. You know that and I’m still
training for the marathon.” I swear she has twenty of them on. I poke the fox’s
nose. “Why are you out here and all dressed up?”

“You’re living in a fancy neighborhood.”
She caresses the fox. “I’m dressing the part. When in Rome.” She stands up to
follow me inside and visibly a little wobbly.

My mom always said, “Hallie, don’t mess
with crazy. It will get you nowhere.” I’m listening to her today.

“How’s it feel to live where you’ve
always wanted to live?”

“What do you mean?” I act like I don’t
know what she’s talking about.

Aunt Grace catches me off guard. I can’t
compare my past life with my real life. Besides, she’s done the best she can.

“You always wanted to live uptown.” She
follows me to the kitchen.

“I didn’t pick the house. It’s where my
company put me.” I don’t want to admit how excited I am that they rented me a
house in Hyde Park.

I get a cup of coffee and keep an eye on
her at the same time. She walks around looking at the appliances in awe. She
touches the Breville blender as if it will burst in flames if she gets too
close. The toaster oven door creaks as she opens it.

She isn’t used to living this way. A
clean, tidy home. As far back as I can remember, her house has always been the
same. Fun and mysterious, as a child. Dreadful, as an adult.

“I bet your parents are proud of you,
Hallie.” Aunt Grace daintily takes the cup and put it up to her nose to smell.
The hot steam dances in the air as she sips. “Ah. That’s a good cup of coffee.”
She sits down at the table next to me. She’s more unstable than I’ve ever seen
her.

“Aunt Grace, how is your health?” A
sudden ping of fear stabs my heart.

“Honey, I’m ninety-two years old.” She
sorts through the bracelets lying on the table. “What’s this all about?”

We change the subject to my beading
success. I’m proud to tell her. I’d like her to see that she successfully
raised me.

“I must admit, they are lovely.” The
wealthy woman Aunt Grace was in her early years begins to shine through. She
turns her head and stares off into the distance. “I used to wear beautiful
jewelry.”

I can tell she’s picturing another
place, another time.

“Embrace life, Hallie. You never know
where it’s going to take you.” There is something in her voice that makes me
think she’s hiding something.

We talk a little longer before I have to
get ready and go to work. I leave them there in confidence my house will still
be standing when I get home tonight.

Wilson busts through my office door,
with Beatrice behind him.

“What are
those
people doing in
my house, Hallie?” His face is red with anger. “I walk upstairs in my
underwear
to find Aunt Grace stroking a dead animal and Uncle Jimmy in a pink robe.” He
hovers over my desk ready to pounce.

“Lucy is going to kill me.” I’m so glad
it’s Wilson who saw him in Lucy’s pink robe and not me. “You weren’t home when
it all went down and…”

He isn’t paying attention to me. He’s
looking at Beatrice who walked in to see who he is and why he barged in.

“What?” He’s nasty to Beatrice. “Yeah!
What?”

Beatrice hangs her head and shuts the
door.

“Wilson, was that nice? No.” I walk over
to the door. “Which is now. Goodbye.”

“I don’t think so. We have a little
issue to discuss. Crazy one and crazy two.” He holds up two fingers.  “And why
they’re in my house?”

He stands between me and the door. He’s
not about to budge.

“Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy are staying
with me for a couple nights while their apartment building gets sprayed for
bugs.” I walk around him to open the door. “You stay in your apartment and I’ll
stay in mine for the next few days. Or I’ll have to call the landlord.” I smile,
and open the door.

“Very funny, Hallie.” He walks out and
turns around. “I’m not happy about it.”

“You don’t have to be. They aren’t your
houseguests.” I shut the door before he can get in another word.

Chapter
Forty-Five

Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy stay out of
my way most of the time when I’m home. They eat before I get home and retreat
to watch TV in the bedroom. I finish all the jewelry by midweek and FedEx them
Wednesday night with a different proposal drawn up by Prudence in each one.

Saks hasn’t called and I fear Sophia is
avoiding me. Nothing is happening with O magazine or Bo. The two major things I
want to happen.

“It’s a girl.” Georgia calls just in
time to bring me out of my funk. “A girl!”

“Way to go, Georgia.” I can’t imagine
how she’s going to dress that poor baby. “Swear to me right now and if you were
here, I would make you put her hand on a Bible. Both hands!”

“Swear to what? You know I don’t swear.”

“Swear you will not become one of those
parents on
Toddler and Tiaras
.” I’m not joking when I refer to the hooky
show about mothers and their itty-bitty mini-me’s followed by cameras through
their journeys as child beauty queens. I’m obsessed with that show.

Living alone leaves the door open for
some interesting television.

“With godmothers like you girls, she’ll
be well rounded without a word from me.” She laughs. “
Toddler and Tiaras
.
Something to think about.”

“Swear, Georgia!” I belt through the
phone.

“Okay, I swear. I need to go call the
other god mommies.”

“I’m the first you called?”
Wow!
What
an honor.

“You are.” She confirms.

“I’m the favorite. I knew it.” I jump up
and down.

“You’re first in the alphabet in the
phone.”

“Sure I am.” Still pumping my fists in
the air. “I’m the favorite.” I sing into the phone way off-key until I hear the
click.

The phone rings immediately after she
hung up.

“I knew it! I am the favorite.” I answer
it.

“Excuse me?” The voice isn’t Georgia. In
fact, I’ve never heard this voice.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone
else.” I bit my lower lip. “Who is this?”

“I’m looking for Hallie Mediate.”

Crap!
I think I forgot to pay my Chase
bill. Do I fess up or do I say I’m not here?

“This is her.” I gather enough
confidence to continue.

I thumb through my bills on the kitchen
counter and try to ignore Uncle Jimmy, who’s become accustomed to Lucy’s robe.
And, if I must say, he doesn’t look all that bad in pink.

“My name is Judith Light. I’m a jewelry
buyer for Nordstrom in Chicago.” Her words blur from there. “I understand you
made some jewelry that might interest me.”

Uncle Jimmy is sitting at the table with
a glass of vodka. I sit across from him, take his glass, and gulp it down. I
don’t care what disease I may get from it.

“I….” Uncle Jimmy, as if on cue, fills
my or dare I say our glass again. I take a big swig and hand it to Uncle Jimmy,
who takes a bigger swig. “I am flattered that you called. How did you hear
about me?”

I try to sound professional, but with my
squeaky voice, it’s hard to do.

Wilson bolts up the steps, slamming the
basement door.

He wiggles his finger between the two of
us. “We need to talk. Now.”

I try to shush him and focus on Judith
Light.

“It doesn’t matter. I understand you are
away on business and won’t be back for three weeks. When you get home, I want
you to give me a call.” She followed up with her information.

I happily abide and take down her number
along with another swig of Uncle Jimmy’s drink of choice. I hang up the phone
and walk downstairs in a trance.

“They have to go!” Wilson points to his
ceiling, referring to Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy. “You said a couple nights.
It’s been three.” He holds up two fingers. “Two equals a couple.”

“I thought they were keeping to
themselves. I have all their television shows written out for them, all their
food laid out. What possibly can they be doing to aggravate you?” I’m baffled.

“This.” He holds up a long piece of
wood. “You don’t know what this is, do you?”

Slowly I say no, and keep my eye on him
just in case he is going to bash me over the head with it. I must admit my
reflexes are a little off at the moment. Those couple swigs of vodka and the
call from Judith Light are having an effect.