Intoxicated (5 page)

“Just give me a moment,” I said.

“No problem,” my dad responded, “we’ll just
take this out to the dumpster and wait for you at your car. You can
drop off your keys and then meet us in the parking lot.”

“Take your time,” Gracie said, squeezing my
shoulder as my dad ushered her out the door.

I took a final lap around the space, knowing
that I would never be back. Within these walls, my adulthood had
begun. Even though it was small, rundown and in a less than savory
neighborhood, it had still been my first place. A small taste of
freedom and success. A tiny sanctuary.

My hand ran over the back of the tattered
loveseat, remembering long discussions with Gracie. Usually over
something Eric had done to upset me. Sometimes, though, we
discussed her non-existent love life or her career aspirations.
Since she was a few years younger than me, I had stepped into the
role of big sister and friend, able to dispense advice from my own
experiences.

I moved to the kitchen area, pausing at the
counter to remember my daily coffee routine. I would perch on the
counter with a freshly brewed cup and mentally prepare myself for
the day ahead. Since I also liked to cook, I had made many dishes
here. I typically packaged them up when done and transported them
over to someone else’s place, my apartment not as suitable as some
for entertaining. Cooking for one had never really appealed to
me.

The trundle bed had been closed up into the
wall. Of all the features here, this would be the one I would miss
the least. When I first moved in, I thought it was an interesting
novelty item. I quickly began to realize it was horribly
impractical. At the end of an exhausting day, the last thing I had
ever wanted to do was fold out my bed and ready it for the night.
Occasionally, I had even fallen asleep on the couch and just stayed
there.

The only room with an interior door was the
bathroom, a tiny three piece with a shower designed only for
someone my size. Nothing special here.

I grasped the keys in my hand and shut the
door softly behind me. Part of me wanted to turn back and stay
living in the safety that I had created here. I kept walking, eyes
firmly fixed ahead of me. I dropped off the keys to the less than
friendly lady at the leasing office then exited to the parking
lot.

Hugs were exchanged all the way around. Over
the past year or so that Gracie and I had worked together, she had
been a constant presence in my life. Since I was so close with my
dad, that relationship had also carried over to her. I knew he
considered Gracie to be his second daughter, and I doubted that
would change just because I moved two hours away.

Knowing that they wouldn’t leave prior to me
pulling away, I slid behind the wheel of the Honda. As I turned the
key in the ignition, I smiled in earnest. I rolled down the window
and said my goodbyes. Ironically, neither my dad nor Gracie had an
issue with telling me they loved me, a sentiment that I easily
returned. I wondered why Eric found it so hard.

As I pulled away, I checked the rearview
mirror to find both of them waving. I honked my horn and prepared
for the drive. This time, I was confident enough to not need a map
or my GPS. The only difficulty I anticipated having in getting
there wasn’t until I was actually in the addition that contained
Blake’s house. I figured there was no time like the present to
gather my bearings.

Gracie called me as soon as I hit the
interstate. I imagined she had raced home after seeing me off,
ready for a gossip session that wouldn’t be suitable for my
father’s ears. I filled her in on Eric’s unexpected appearance and
my bipolar emotions on the subject. Of course, I appreciated the
effort but found the execution lacking.

“What a jerk,” Gracie summed up. “I can’t
believe he didn’t say he loved you.”

“And I can’t believe you didn’t bring him a
glass. Can we say awkward?”

Gracie giggled. “When I saw his car in the
parking lot, I about died. But he doesn’t change his plans for you,
so why would I change mine to include him?”

“I could tell it irked him. At first, it
bothered me. Now, after the whole parking lot thing, it kind of
serves him right.”

“Of course it serves him right. You could do
so much better. Maybe now you will.”

“Gracie!” I admonished. This was certainly
not the first time she had suggested that I choose to end the
relationship, but she usually hinted around the subject instead of
saying it outright.

“What? I’m just saying that if you find some
hot guy at the new office, maybe you could upgrade. It’s not like
Eric owns you. Or even acts like he wants to claim you.”

“Says the girl who has never had a serious
relationship.”

“Doesn’t mean that I can’t make accurate
observations.”

We chatted for nearly the entire trip,
speaking about everything from happenings at my old office to
celebrity gossip. I hoped that we would never lose this part of our
friendship. Even though I was convinced that we would never
completely lose touch, especially with my father involved, I wasn’t
naïve enough to pretend that things wouldn’t change. I vowed to
speak to Blake in regards to having Gracie spend a weekend or two
once things got settled down. The two would probably get along
famously. Still, I knew from past friendships that distance posed
several problems. Even if she did visit, it wouldn’t be the same as
knowing she could drop in at any time. Even though we could still
email each other at work, it wasn’t like walking across the lobby
and asking her to grab some lunch. Phone calls were nice, but not
the same. And when life got busy, communications slowed between
those you didn’t see in person much until it got easier to just not
call at all. I kept this all to myself. No need to crush her upbeat
demeanor.

“You have got to text me pictures of your new
room. I want to see if I’m right about the rainbows.”

“Shut up, Gracie.”

“Fine, then. I guess my work here is done.
I’ll talk to you later.”

Unlike my doubts with Eric, I knew Gracie
would keep her word.

“See you later.”

I hung up my cell and tossed it on the
passenger seat. By this point, I was only about ten minutes away
from Blake’s. It still didn’t feel right to call it my place. I
wasn’t sure it ever would. Surprisingly enough, I drove right to
the house. I sighed with relief as I pulled in the driveway. It
would have been majorly embarrassing to have to activate the GPS
only to find out I was two streets away.

I exited the car and walked up the sidewalk
to the front porch. As I rang the doorbell, I wondered if Blake
would greet me anywhere near as comically as the first time. To my
disappointment, she answered quickly and without any odd
expression. However, the wide smile on her face did much to
alleviate my nervousness.

“Hey, girl,” she said brightly, “come on
in.”

I followed her into the home. She went
directly to the mantle, grabbing my house key and garage door
opener and presenting them to me.

“No more ringing the doorbell,” she
laughed.

“Thanks. It’s always important to be able to
enter your own place.”

“Now, if you want to discuss giving your
boyfriend a key, I would be open to it as long as I met him first.
My brother’s the only other person with a key, so you don’t have to
worry about any weirdos running around here. I’d like to keep it
that way.”

“I don’t think Eric will be needing a
key.”

Blake looked at me as if that was the oddest
thing she had ever heard in her life. I shrugged, attempting to
think of a reason that was better than the truth. I didn’t want to
insult her by telling her that he probably would never want to set
foot in the house. At least not on day one. Leave the baggage for a
little bit later.

“He has his own place in Indy. Since he lives
alone, it’s probably easier when we spend weekends together to just
do it there. That way I’m not imposing.”

“Whatever floats your boat. If you change
your mind, the offer still stands. But I hope I get to meet him at
some point. Otherwise I might begin to think he’s a figment of your
imagination.”

Her and me both.

“Come on,” she continued, grabbing my hand,
“let’s go see your room.”

Her excitement was contagious, and the two of
us practically ran up the stairs to the loft. I hoped that neither
my father nor Gracie were correct about the theme. The door to the
room was closed and sported an oversized red ribbon and bow. She
instructed me to close my eyes and I said a silent prayer as I
turned the knob.

My eyes fluttered open as I stepped through
the entryway, feeling the plush carpeting sink under my feet. My
jaw dropped open and I spun around to face Blake. She stood, arms
folded across her chest, leaning against the wall.

“You like?” she asked, the nervousness in her
voice evident. I doubted she lacked confidence with her actual
clients and wondered what the difference was here.

“Blake,” I breathed, walking further into the
room, touching the furniture and the layers of fabric, “this is
amazing.”

The transformation was nothing short of
miraculous. Only a week before, this room had stood nondescript and
vacant. Today, it looked like someone’s home. The white walls had
been replaced by a pastel pink shade. Instead of looking like a
nursery, the childish color was tempered with a dark, almost black,
charcoal gray. The dressers and nightstands were painted a glossy
black, the drawer handles replaced with crystals. The bed was
covered with a no-doubt custom made comforter that interwove all of
the elements of the bedroom: charcoal gray velveteen fabric, light
pink satin and black lace.

“I can’t believe you would do something like
this for me. I mean, we have known each other for about five
minutes, and you were able to create something that is totally me.
This is what I would have chosen for myself, if I knew what I was
talking about.”

“Hey, it’s just my job.”

Impulsively, I ran over and gave her a hug.
Instead of being weirded out, she accepted the affection
gracefully. Maybe she was one of those touchy, feely people.

“Thank you so much. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now the fun begins. Moving all my stuff in
here.”

Blake laughed. “Probably easier to leave your
car in the driveway and unload it there. More of a straight shot
through the front door than the garage.”

“Well thought out. Like you’ve moved things
before.”

She laughed. “You have no idea.”

At that moment, her cell phone rang. She
pulled it from her pocket, checking the display. “I’ve got to take
this one. It’s a client. Be down in a minute.”

She pressed something on the phone and began
her conversation. “Snyder Designs,” she answered cheerfully. She
turned and headed into the home office, her words becoming
indistinguishable.

Just when she’d been about to help, that
convenient call had come in. I wondered if she would drag it out
longer than necessary just to avoid helping. She didn’t quite seem
the type to do that. As I descended the stairs, I wondered how long
I could stall unloading the Honda. Two could play this game.

Pushing my immature thoughts aside, I headed
out the front door and to my car. She was a business owner, a
talented one at that, and duty called. Her client wouldn’t know
that Blake was welcoming a new roommate today. Blake would take the
call, be a true professional and get things accomplished as soon as
she could. Then she would be down to help. Exactly as she had
said.

The cul-de-sac was fairly quiet for this time
on a Saturday afternoon. I looked around, trying to decide if this
was the kind of neighborhood where I could leave my car unlocked
without anyone messing with it. The simplest plan of attack would
be to open all four doors and the trunk and just move everything
out as quickly as possible. It would really slow things down if I
had to open, close and repeat for each load. Since no one at all
appeared to be outside I went with my original thought. Most
likely, no one would want any of my stuff anyway. Or the car
itself, for that matter.

I grabbed the first few items out of the
passenger seat. All lightweight, easy to carry stuff. I would break
myself in easy. With any luck, Blake would appear soon and she
could help me struggle with the heavy stuff. When I had been
packing, it had seemed like a good idea to put all of the kitchen
stuff together in a single box. However, I hadn’t accounted for the
fact that it would weigh so much. I had nearly laughed out loud
when Eric, dressed in his khakis and polo shirt, had insisted he
could handle it. He had barely been able to lift the thing. I
wondered if Blake and I would be able to give it a go. If not, the
only other options were to unpack it in the driveway and carry
everything in piece by piece or drive around with it wedged in my
trunk.

Blake was still on the phone when I made my
first trip in and out of the house. To save time, I decided to just
pile everything in one corner of the room. I had thought about
putting everything on the bed, but I didn’t want to accidentally
tear the comforter. After everything was unloaded, then I could
worry about organizing it all.

I was just making my choices for a second
load when the crisp early fall air was punctuated by the sound of a
car’s engine. Unlike the quiet, timid sound of your typical
suburban minivan or sedan, this sounded full of power and speed. In
fact, I heard the car long before I saw it. I set down the duffel
bag I had been holding, intrigued.

When the car came into view, I could see it
was a Mustang. Not a base model, either. This was one of the
expensive, special order kinds that was made for fun. This
particular one was bright yellow with black racing stripes painted
down the middle of the hood, which surely wrapped around and down
the trunk. A convertible.