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A Woman Lost Page 8
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“Lizzie, stop it.” My words floated through the thin air.
I picked up another stone, lined it up carefully, and released. Jump. Jump. Then I saw it no more. I laughed mirthlessly at my ineptitude.
Giving up, I sat there, contemplating life, love, and the kind of stuff one thinks about when sitting next to a river, until I noticed the weather beginning to change. A strong gust of wind sent my bike clattering to the ground. My metal water bottled popped out of its holder and clinked as it rolled over the rocks to stop at the river’s edge. The weather could change fast in Colorado at this time of year. Clouds had already started to roll in over the foothills.
Righting my bike, I then jumped on and started the trek home. The wind came in gusts, and when it did, I had to use all of my strength to stay on the bike. At points, the wind picked up my front tire and turned it perpendicular to the rest of the bike. Colorado weather—you never knew what was going to happen. The saying was, “If you don’t like the weather, wait ten minutes and it will change.”
After struggling for over an hour, I finally made it back to my apartment. As I lifted my bike up onto my shoulders to carry it up the flight of stairs to my apartment, a familiar voice behind me said, “Only you would be crazy enough to go for a ride in this wind.”
I turned my head. “It was beautiful when I left … no wind at all.”
“Oh my gosh, Lizzie, you’re bleeding.” Maddie sounded concerned.
I looked down. Blood dripped from my shin down into my sock. “Yeah, a tree branch hit me. I tried avoiding it, but as you can see”—I gestured to my shin—“I wasn’t successful.” I laughed.
She shook her head. “And what about your arm?”
“What?” I looked at my left arm and then my right. Sure enough, my right arm had a gash as well. “I don’t know what happened.” I paused to think. “But that does explain why my arm started to hurt. I just thought my arms were tired from struggling to stay on the bike.”
“You’re a mess. Let’s get you upstairs and get you cleaned up.” She took the bike, lifted it onto her shoulder, and started up the stairs. Her manner told me not to mess with her. When we reached the landing outside my door, she noticed the computer on my bike. “792 miles. Not bad.” She flashed her sexy smile.
At my front door, she put her hand out for my keys. I sighed and handed them to her. She opened the door, hung my bike up, and then turned to me. “All right, I hope you have a first aid kit.”
“I do. You look like you would ream me if I didn’t.” I walked into my bedroom. Maddie followed. It felt weird for a brief moment. Then she followed me into the bathroom.
“Wow! This bathroom is spotless. Who cleans it, you or Sarah?” She eyed me.
“Uh … we have a cleaner. I wipe down the sinks and counter each morning, but the sparkle is Miranda’s doing.” I opened the cabinet under the sink, searching for my first aid kit.
“Peter wants me to hire a cleaner, but, oh, I don’t know … it feels weird to have a stranger in my home.” She fidgeted with some flowers on the counter.
I stood awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Did she think I was a snob?
She smiled. “Maybe I should. I hate sticking my hand in the toilet.”
I crinkled my nose in disgust.
Wanting desperately to change the subject, since I didn’t want her to think of me as a prig, I handed her my first aid kit.
“Good.” She laughed. “I don’t have to beat you now.”
“You wouldn’t pick on the injured, would you?”
“Yes! If they’re stupid enough to go out in this wind.” She gently whacked the back of my head.
“Ouch!” I stepped back in case she struck again. “It wasn’t windy when I left.” I pouted.
“Didn’t you look at the weather channel? I thought for sure you would be the type to check that out.”
“What do you mean ‘the type to check that out’? Just because I study history doesn’t make me a dork.”
“I’m finding it doesn’t make you smart, either. It’s a good thing you weren’t seriously injured. The wind is gusting up to 60mph. And there you were, out there riding, you moron.” She laughed as she dabbed hydrogen peroxide on the cut on my shin.
I tried not to react, but my leg jerked away.
“You and your brother are such babies.” She started to dab my elbow. “The cuts aren’t bad at all. All you need is a couple of Band-Aids. I’ll put them on after you shower. How can you sweat so much in the cold? I can’t believe you are in shorts and a tee when it is only 50 degrees outside.”
“I’m not impressing you at all today, am I?”
“Are you trying to impress me?” I wondered what arcane thoughts her smile concealed.
I ignored the question. Or was I scared to answer it? “Is Peter working today?” I asked instead.
“Of course. Saturday is just another workday. Is Sarah shopping with her mom?”
“Yes. Our partners are quite predictable.”
“Well, then, get in the shower and then take me to lunch. I’m famished. And I will tell you about this crazy appointment I had this morning.”
I gave her a look.
“I know … I know.” She put her palms up in the air. “I bust Peter’s balls for working on a Saturday, when I made an appointment as well. But wait until I tell you about it. It was so worth it. Now, get into the shower.” She turned and left the bathroom.
I turned on the water—hot, since I needed to warm my bones. The wind had chilled me all the way through. My cuts stung when the water hit them. Rushing through my routine, I pulled on a shirt and some jeans.
When I walked into the front room, Maddie shook her head. “Did you put a bandage on your shin?”
“Um … sure.”
“You’re such a liar. Come on, back into the bathroom.”
I felt like I was being scolded.
“Wow, you do like a hot shower.” The mirror was still steamed. “How am I supposed to put the Band-Aid on with your jeans on?” She smiled.
I fidgeted.
“Would it make you feel better if I closed my eyes?”
“Yes, it would. But I don’t think you’ll actually do it.” I started to undo my jeans, feeling relieved that I had shaved recently and had put on clean underwear that didn’t have any holes. That could have been extremely embarrassing. Standing there with my jeans around my ankles, I prayed that Sarah wouldn’t walk in. Normally, I wasn’t religious, but at that moment, I was.
“Okey dokey.” She patted my leg. “Let’s see your elbow.”
I pulled my jeans up so fast I almost ripped the bandage right off.
“Easy, tiger. You are injured enough. Don’t rip off more skin.”
“But I’m receiving such top-notch care, so why not?”
She didn’t respond right away, just took care of my elbow. Then she looked me in the eyes. “Someone has to take care of you.”
She smelled of orange blossoms. No words came to me. I just stared back. The look only lasted a few seconds, but it seemed much longer.
“Are you going to take me to lunch now? I’m starving. And I am dying to tell you about my appointment.” She looked at her reflection in the mirror and messed with her hair.
“All right. All right. I guess it’s the least I can do after you played nurse today.”
“I still can’t believe you went riding in this wind. Do you hear it now, you ding-dong?” She hit my shoulder. “Good thing it isn’t trash day or your dad would have to go to the ravine to retrieve his trash cans.”
She was right: the wind was howling.
* * *
“Oh, my God.” After we were seated at Coopersmith’s, Maddie grabbed my arm. It was obvious she could no longer keep the story bottled up inside. “So I went to this client’s house. At first, everything seemed normal. I sat down with a man and his wife and they started to tell me what they envisioned and stuff. Then the husband cleared his throat and said they
had one challenge. His sister, who is mentally challenged, lives with them and has a habit of breaking things, so they wanted stuff that couldn’t be thrown or easily broken.
“At first I thought, Wow, what a great couple. I don’t think I could do that … yada, yada.” She waved her arm in the air. “Anyway, we started taking a tour through the house. They want to re-do the entire house. And they are quite well off, so it’d be a large project, which I was stoked about. Ka-ching!”
She paused to take a drink.
All I could think was: Wow! She might be up here a lot more. This was fantastic news! I tried to hide my excitement by taking a sip of Coke.
“When they started to show me the sister’s bedroom, the wife mentioned that the sister wasn’t there. At the time, I didn’t notice any apprehension, but now, looking back, it was there.” Maddie paused, her eyes glowing. “Yeah, it was definitely there.”
She wiggled in her chair and waved her arms again. “But I’m jumping ahead of myself. The couple told me the sister is almost completely non-verbal. She only says a handful of words, such as big wheel, peanuts, and her own name.
“We were almost done with the tour when we went down into the basement. I finally met the sister”—Maddie took a deep breath—“Lizzie, I kid you not. She was sitting in a recliner completely naked, with her legs up in the air, masturbating.” Maddie started to laugh uncontrollably. She took more deep breaths and said, “And she kept saying the words ‘big wheel’ and ‘peanuts.’
“I didn’t know what to say or do. All of us just stood there dumbfounded. Finally, the husband ushered us up the stairs.
“I know it’s not the PC thing to … to”—she paused for a second to laugh again and then sucked in some air so she could talk—“to laugh at that. But when I got into my car … ” Maddie was gasping for breath. “I couldn’t stop laughing. I laughed so hard I almost peed myself.”
I laughed too, not just at the story, but at Maddie. Her face was scarlet but she looked so beautiful and serene, even while struggling for air and laughing so hard.
After she settled down a little, I asked, “How in the heck did you end that meeting? I mean, what did you say, ‘Nice meeting you, but I’m sorry this didn’t work out’?”
She was still laughing as she said, “Oh, I took the job.”
Fuck yeah. She took the job. Oh my god, this was the best news ever. “You did? That’s great. A job like that must pay a fortune … not to mention how great it will look for your portfolio.”
She smiled. I could tell she was proud of herself, and she deserved it. “What did Peter say when you told him?”
Maddie muttered, “Oh, I haven’t told him. We’re supposed to have dinner tonight, so I’ll probably tell him then.” Her tone turned serious. “Are you mad at me?”
I almost choked on my Coke. “What? Because you laughed at a person with a disability? No … no, not at all.”
“No, you idiot.” She lightly slapped my arm. “Not because of that. Are you mad at me for the other night?”
I racked my brain. “Maddie, I have no clue what you are talking about … unless you mean wearing a sweater with a hole in it.”
She swatted my arm again. “Not that, you moron. You know, the other night when your mom was so rude to you. I didn’t say anything. It’s been bothering me since.”
“Really? Why?” My voice cracked a little.
“Because she is such a bitch. I’m sorry, Lizzie, I know she’s your mother, but God, what a cunt.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry. You can say whatever you want about my mom and you won’t hurt my feelings or make me mad. I’ve never called her that, though. I call her The Scotch-lady.”
It was her turn to chuckle, covering her mouth with her hand so she wouldn’t spit out her food. “You’re right. She always has a scotch in her hand … Scotch-lady … I like that. Who else calls her that?”
I paused and thought. “To be honest, I’ve never told anyone I call her that.”
She put her hand on my arm and whispered, “Your secret is safe with me.” Her wink gave me goosebumps.
For the rest of the meal, all I could think about was that Maddie had taken the job. I didn’t know much about interior design, but I believed she would have to be up here quite a bit until it was done. Maybe I should start expecting more pop-ins … wait, was that an oxymoron? How did one expect pop-ins? Oh well … who cared. This was the best day ever.
Chapter Twelve
I tarried as long as I could with Maddie, but I had promised to have dinner with Sarah and her mom, and Maddie had to drive back to Denver. We said our farewells and I sped home to arrive before Sarah returned from shopping.
By the time Sarah entered the apartment, I was sitting on the couch with a book and a pen. I had read a few pages, but the thought of Maddie working in the same town preoccupied my mind. I glanced back at the pages I had read and saw I hadn’t marked any up at all. I knew it wasn’t sinking in.
“My, you are engrossed in your book.”
I smiled. “It looks as though shopping was a success today.”
Sarah stood in the doorway, five large shopping bags garlanding her arms. I noticed there were smaller bags tucked inside the larger ones. “You could say that. One of these days, you’ll have to join us again. I’ll pack you some energy drinks.” Sarah set the bags down and came to the couch. I lifted my legs so she could sit and then placed my legs on top of her.
“I got us the coolest blender. Now we can have bona fide margaritas.” She stroked my leg, running her hand up my shin beneath my baggy jeans. Of course, she felt the bandage. “What did you do to your leg?” She started to lift my pant leg up so she could look.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I was riding my bike and I was struck by a blowing tree branch.”
She stared at me. “You rode your bike in this wind? Are you crazy or something? Let me take a look, God knows you wouldn’t have taken the time to bandage it properly.”
Before I could protest, she ripped the bandage off. Sarah paused. “This one must have hurt you. You actually put Neosporin or something on it.” She secured the bandage again and leaned down and kissed it. “Do you need Tylenol or anything? Does it hurt?”
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though.” I didn’t want to talk about it, so I quickly changed the subject. “So, what amazing treasures did you find today?”
“Oh, the usual—some clothes. And mom and I found some of the cutest things for you. I found some jeans that will show off your ass.” She pinched my butt. “Might as well show it off. You work so hard having a nice one, with all of that bike riding and hiking. I still can’t believe you went riding in this wind.” She shook her head.
I mentioned once, early on in our relationship, that I abhorred shopping and that I’d love to have someone do it for me. Ever since then, whenever she went shopping with her mom, Sarah picked out clothes for me if she saw something she liked. It was sweet really, that she and her mom took the time to help a fashion-impaired person. And, to be honest, I had started dressing better.
“I should have known. Honey, I’m going to have to give up this teaching thing and work with my brother so I can build a closet the size of a house for all of your clothes.”
She smiled a huge smile. “Well, maybe we should stop paying rent for two places and pool our resources for a larger place together.”
Holy fucking shit, I walked right into that one. No way. No how. I was not ready for that. I looked into her eyes and saw anticipation, hope, and fear. I couldn’t do it. “Uh … we can talk about that. But if I’m not mistaken, we have to meet your mom for dinner. What outfit did you buy for me tonight? And by the way, how much do I owe you?”
She slapped my leg and then said, “Oh, my gosh, did I hurt your shin?”
“No, you’re good.” It did sting a little. “Geez, I get injured and then my girlfriend hits me.” I sat up and kissed her cheek.
* * *
“You look fa
bulous.” Sarah’s mom gave me a hug and eyed my black pinstripe pants and shiny purple shirt. “I have to admit that we did a great job picking out that outfit.”
“Thanks, Rose.” I stepped back from her and my hand flew to the fabric. The shirt was very soft, silky almost. If I knew anything about clothes, I might know the fabric, but I didn’t. I made a mental note to look at the tag to see what it was made of.
Rose said, “I checked in with the hostess and our table is almost ready.”
Fort Collins was one of the largest cities in Colorado. But since it was a college town, there weren’t many nice restaurants. On most occasions when we dined with Rose, we went to Jay’s Bistro, one of the classier joints.
Sarah and Rose chatted while I looked around. Mother and daughter looked so much alike: short dark hair in a fashionable cut, penetrating brown eyes, beautiful skin, and large smiles. And both always dressed impeccably; family money paid off for both of them.
Rosalind Cavanaugh, who hates her full name and prefers Rose, married young. Sarah told me her father had swept her mother off her feet and they married right after Rose graduated from high school. He was a year older. James Cavanaugh was the only child of a wealthy couple and he had never worked. Instead, Sarah’s parents traveled all over the world. After six years of marriage, they had Sarah. James’s health started to fail soon after her birth. He died before Sarah was three. Rose and Sarah grew really close. Consequently, when Sarah moved to Colorado to attend the University of Colorado in Boulder, Rose followed. They acted more like sisters.
While they gossiped about one of their distant relatives, I scanned the restaurant and noticed a professor who had taught me during my undergrad days. For a brief moment, I panicked. I hated socializing and kissing ass just to aid my career, and I was so awkward and shy in those situations that it made both parties uncomfortable. He obviously didn’t recognize or remember me. Thank goodness.
After we were seated, Rose looked me directly in the eyes. “So, Lizzie, I heard you are a Les-Bi-An.”