Letting out a slow breath as I held the envelope the mayor had given me against my stomach, my eyes scanned the surrounding buildings. Agatha Bentley’s property stood at the far end of a small commercial street directly adjacent to the park, and her apartment was above the thrift shop I was meant to begin work at on Monday. The building was sandwiched within a long row of three-story stone row houses. The architecture was beautiful, and all looked to be pretty old. Perfect for a thrift shop.
The thrift store was closed, but through the large glass windows I could see a surprisingly attractive display. Three tall mannequins stood in a row, decked out in pretty stylish attire. Nothing I would ever wear, mind you, but they did look super trendy. Whoever styled them had undeniably good taste. I leaned closer to the glass to peer inside, but couldn’t see much else past the front display. Taking a step back, I looked at the front of the building, wondering which of the main doors led to the upstairs apartment.
I smiled with relief when I saw my bags were still tucked behind the solid stone balustrade; perhaps my luck was about to change. I climbed the front steps and tried the lock on the first door. It took a few attempts to figure out which one of the many keys to use, but luckily the door sprang open on the third try. I pulled my bags inside the dark space, shut the door behind me, leaned my back against the solid wood surface, and pressed the palms of my hands into my eyes. I inhaled slowly through my nose and exhaled loudly through my mouth, hating the fact that even breathing reminded me of Gerard and his stupid yogalates classes.
My muscles clenched at the thought of him, sending a pulse of rage through me. I was alone in a strange city with even stranger people, with no landlady and no boss, and who knew whether I still even had a job or not. Things had certainly taken a turn in my life, and I had to get back my control soon or risk losing it completely. I let my hands fall to my side, emitting an extremely loud and frustration-filled groan.
I jumped about a foot in the air when I heard a loud hissing sound and the back of my head slammed hard against the door. I cursed loudly, looking frantically about for the source of the sound. Hardly any light filtered in through the heavily dust-covered window, and I fumbled at the adjacent wall for a light. My fingers came to a heavy switch, and I flicked it on, nearly blinded by the brightness flooding the entryway. Squinting, I let out a soft gasp as I took in the room around me. The building was ancient, for sure, and a thick layer of dust coated every surface. Strange wall hangings adorned the faded floral-papered walls, and to my horror, three massive furry cats sat on the stairway, staring at me with expressions that looked nearly as confused as I felt.
“Perfect. Cats.” I glared at the three oversized fluffy creatures. “Well, aren’t you just the cherry on top of an utterly lousy day.” I’d never been a cat person. I was highly allergic, for one. Plus, dogs were just so much more sociable. I never understood the draw of having housecats. They just kind of sat around, judging you. Exactly like these three seemed to be doing right now. Although, I did have to admit these were particularly cute as cats went. One ginger, one black as night, and one tabby cat, all of them huge, all of them immaculate, all of them glaring back at me with narrowed eyes. “What are you gaping at, cats?”
“I could ask you the same question, little miss tight pants,” a voice responded.
For the second time in the space of five minutes I started in fright, this time pressing my body firmly back against the front door. My pulse raced, and my eyes darted around the hallway, landing on the three cats. I stared at them, wondering if I’d finally lost my mind after all. “You did not just speak to me.” I pressed my hands against the cool wood. “Right?”
“No, they did not speak to you, ridiculous girl,” the batty old lady from the park said as she appeared at the top of the narrow stairwell and frowned at me as if I was the crazy person in this scenario. “Now, quit talking to yourself and get your bags out of the entryway.”
My mouth fell open. “What the heck are you doing here?” I demanded, shock sharpening my words. “Did you follow me from the park? You can’t just follow people into their homes. And how did you even get in?”
The lady ignored me and motioned for me to follow her up the stairs and through the doorway. “This way. You can leave your bags in here.”
I was beyond frustrated, but, to my surprise, I wasn’t afraid. The woman was positively minuscule and I doubted she could do much harm even if she tried. I groaned and reluctantly dragged my bags up the stairs, through a narrow corridor, and into a living room that opened onto a dining room, and through an arch into an old-style kitchen. The old lady stood near the window in the dining area and peered out at passing cars on the street below. I wondered was the old lady a friend of the deceased? Perhaps, even a relative?
“Excuse me, but do you have a key? The door was locked when I got here.” When the woman didn’t answer, I added more slowly, “Did you know Mrs. Bentley? Was she a friend of yours? Did you come around often?” I stood there in silence waiting for an answer, but none came. Annoyance crept around the edges of my sleep-deprived brain. I plonked the envelope down on the dining room table and crossed my arms. “Look, I’m very sorry for your loss, but if you aren’t going to talk to me, you really do need to leave. This isn’t okay.”
I couldn’t quite read the old woman’s expression. She stared at me a long moment and then shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
As the woman walked past me, I noticed she was in her slippers. I watched her round the corner to the entry hall and listened for her exit. I didn’t hear the door slam, but when I peered into the corridor; she was nowhere to be seen. I sprinted to the door and locked it before returning to the living room to open the envelope.
I sat down and rubbed my eyes, overwhelmed by the fact that I was sitting in a dead lady’s apartment and had to figure out what I was going to do about employment. I hardly had any money, having invested all my savings into my juice bar back in Portland. The juice bar that had burned down only a week after Gerard had managed to get around to making sure my name was on the insurance policy. Squeezing my eyes shut tighter, I tried to force all thoughts of my past life out of my mind. I was here now, and I had to deal with the issues at hand. Forward, not backward. That’s what all the self-help podcasts said, anyways. Steadying my mind, I pulled the paper from the envelope and scanned the first page
Holy giant cucumbers.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” I let the paper fall onto the table as I stared at it with wide eyes. My shaking finger traced the text on the front page, reading it three times over to make sure I understood what it said. When I was sure I wasn’t seeing things, I sat back in the chair and sighed, listening to the sound of a purring cat as the tabby stalked into the room. Agatha Bentley had left everything to me. I had just inherited an apartment, a thrift shop, a second apartment in the basement, and all of her personal belongings. And her cats, it would seem. My mouth hung open as I processed what that meant. It couldn’t be right, could it?
I reached for my cell phone and searched my email addresses for an old college friend who’d gone on to study law after we finished our undergrad in Women’s Studies. I typed in a frantic message, sending her photographs of the documents. My cell beeped and I stared at my friends reply, incredulous. It was mine. It was all mine. Finally, when my eyes started to become dry from staring at the words for so long, I stood and faced the cats. My skin was itchy just looking at them. “I guess that means you three little monsters belong to me, now.”
I sneezed, and I swear to god the tabby cat grinned. Great, I had gained a thrift shop, but was beginning to lose my mind. Excellent. Just what I needed.
“Cat food is in the fridge.” The old woman appeared in the kitchen, and I gasped. I hadn’t even heard her come back in.
“Oh, come on!” I spread my arms wide.