“I have something for you.” She stepped away from me and hurried back to her house. I stood between my driveway and my front door, waiting for the woman to return. I finally saw her open her front door and scurry across the street again, holding something in her hand.
“These were delivered to your house, but no one ever came to get them. I hope you don’t mind,” she said, a little out of breath from her jaunt across the street. “They would sit out there for days, so I’d go and collect them. I eventually had to throw them away, but I always kept the cards.” She held out a stack of small envelopes.
“What are these?”
“Cards. They came with the flowers.”
“Flowers?”
“Yes. At least twice a month, sometimes more, flowers would get delivered to your house and sit on the bench on the porch for days. No one was coming to get them. I told the delivery driver one day that no one lived there, but he didn’t seem to care much. They just kept coming. I hope I did the right thing. I didn’t have anyone to contact…” Her voice trailed off and I just looked at the envelopes, stunned.
“No, it’s fine, um, I never caught your name.”
“Barbara. Barbara McKinley. From across the street.”
“Barbara, thank you for keeping these. I’m sorry you went to all the trouble with the flowers. I had no idea they were coming.”
“Someone was obviously extremely persistent.” Her voice held a question, as if she were hoping I’d tell her all about who was sending me flowers. I didn’t offer her any information.
“Yes, well, thank you again. I think I’ll go inside and wait for my appointment.”
“Oh, yes, don’t let me keep you.” She gave me another sympathetic smile and then turned to head back to her house. It struck me that I had no idea who lived across the street from me all those years. It was a little too late to try to build a relationship now, but I made a mental note to try and be more open in the future.
I made my way toward the house, the stack of envelopes burning in my hand the whole way. There was only one person who came to mind, and I wasn’t sure I could handle reading what would undoubtedly be sweet and heartbreaking notes from Riot. I wish I’d asked Barbara when the last one had been delivered. Suddenly it became exceedingly important to know how long the flowers had been coming. Had the last bunch been delivered months ago, I might have been able to handle the information. But if some had come last week, well, that would throw my whole world off its axis.
I didn’t have time to contemplate anything, though, because there was a knock on my door before I could even open the first envelope. I tucked them into my purse and went to answer the door.
“Are you Ms. Rivers?” the woman on the other side of the door asked.
“That’s me,” I said with a sigh, opening the door wide to let the woman in.
I spent the next hour discussing terms with the woman from the rental company. Luckily, the house was in good condition and only needed minimal work before it could be rented out. Even better, the woman said that for a fee they could take care of everything and have the house rented by the end of the month.
I signed the contract, handed over the keys, and we both left. She made her way to her sleek black Mercedes, and I stood in the driveway staring up at the house I could hardly bear standing in for too long, but cared too much about to sell. It was the last place I’d heard Marcus laugh, the last place I’d seen his smiling face. No, I couldn’t sell it yet. Maybe not ever. For now, this would do. I’d let someone else live there. Maybe that would change the way the house felt to me. Perhaps, if I knew another family was there, making new and happy memories, I’d be able to move from this place of limbo. I didn’t know what I’d do with it in the future, but for now, I’d keep it.
Chapter Five
Only Temporary
Riot
“You’re needed on set in five, Mr. Bentley.” Erin was an assistant assigned to our set. She always had a clipboard in her hand and a pencil behind her ear. And she almost always sounded like she was going to explode from stress. Even now, watching me walk away from our set, knowing I had only five minutes before we began shooting, she sounded like she wanted to strangle me.
“I’ll be back in time. Promise.” I winked at her and laughed when she blushed but pretended to be frustrated. She was young, still in college I believed, and she was definitely inexperienced in the business. None of that affected her ability to do a good job. Inexperienced or not, the will to succeed would take you farther in this business than anything. Hollywood had a reputation for being cutthroat, and it was to an extent, but there were plenty of people who wanted to work hard. Erin was one of them. Not only did she want to work hard, she wanted to do well. That would take her far.