People were running toward the aisle to find the source of agonizing screams as I walked away, back toward the cleaning aisle. Not really in the mood to browse, after meeting one of the worst souls to have ever walked the Earth, I grabbed the polish and headed to the checkout.
That's when I saw her. I immediately wished I were back in the toy aisle, because here was someone who scared me worse than the leader of the Third Reich.
She was standing in line, putting some items on the conveyor belt. Home items, dish detergent, garbage bags, etc. Every time she lifted another item from her cart, the light caught the diamond on her left hand.
It was huge, probably twice the size mine had been. It wasn't just the ring; she looked happy. No one looks like that buying cleaning supplies, unless they're stupid or in love. I'd been dead less than two months. Sixty days! And he'd already proposed?
Then her head poked up. She scanned the store until she settled on a spot behind me. She yelled, “Hurry up!” It wasn't a nagging yell, but a playful, where've you been and come back to my side, type.
I knew it was him; Charlie, my fiancé. The way her face lit up told me everything. Polish leaked onto my fingers from squeezing the container in my hand.
Walk away. Put down the polish and just walk away without looking. Seeing this would do me no good whatsoever. If I walked away, if I didn't see it, it's like it didn't happen. Just like all those dead trees that fell in the forest, right?
Sure, like I could do it. No one I'd ever met in my life, or death, would've been capable of looking away from their ex with a new person. I had to look, and I knew even before I did it was going to kill me a little.
Charlie, my former fiancé—now hers—ran through the store with a bag of chips in one hand and a DVD in the other. He was the picture of domestic bliss and looked healthier and happier than ever.
“They had one copy left.” He put the items on the conveyer belt, wrapped his left arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head. It wasn't a fatherly kiss; it was the type you give to someone who is precious to you.
In all the time we'd been together, he'd never kissed me like that, not once. I would've remembered it.
She lifted her face to him, like a flower soaking in every ounce of sun it could get. In return, the adoration beamed from him. A look passed between them that said without words, you are my everything.
She lowered her head and caught sight of me, standing not even ten feet away, silently inserting myself into their moment by my awkward and unwanted attention. I watched as she nudged him and motioned toward me, the interloper.
He looked my way and recognition flickered across his face. He remembered me, but not the woman he used to be with; the crazy woman from his parking lot. I was the whacko who used to watch him at the luncheonette. He got that look, the one people get when dealing with someone mentally unbalanced and they aren’t sure how to proceed or extricate themselves from an uncomfortable situation.
They turned away, obviously deciding that the best course of action was to pretend I wasn't there. I put the polish on an empty shelf and headed for the door. I shouldn't have turned back again, but I did.
My retreat making them more comfortable, they watched me leave. And as I did, I could make out the word “crazy” when he spoke. They threw their heads back in laughter, before returning their attention back to their items.
I left the store but not the parking lot. Instead, I sat in my Honda as they came out. They got into his car looking truly happy, not a care in the world, the crazy woman already forgotten.
Chapter Five
Whiskers of wisdom
There was a pounding at my condo door.
“Who is it?” I yelled from my position, lounging on the couch, the manual on my lap.
“Luck.”
I moaned aloud. She wasn’t going to be easy to get rid of, and I really wanted some space. “It's open.”
She strolled in wearing a bright red dress, which clung just the right amount and in just the right places.
“When did you start knocking?”
“I don't know. Just figured in case... You know, you could've been busy.” She bit one of her long red nails as she tilted her head.
Sometimes—quite often, actually—I hated that office. At least when you worked with humans, they knew you were supposed to gossip behind the person's back. These people were killing me.
I decided to shut this down right away. “I'm not sleeping with him.”
“Then where've you been the last two days?” She tossed her tiny sequin purse down on my table.
“Had some stuff to catch up on.” I knew I should've just gone into the office. It would've been easier, but then the Fate problem would arise. Although, why he didn't come and pound down my door here was something of a mystery.
“You don't answer the phone? Something's wrong with you.” She tapped her red nails on my counter as she paced about.
“It's dead. The phone, that is.” Since I couldn’t get clarity on my own state of mortality, I couldn’t help but clarify everything else’s.
“Something’s obviously very wrong. Tell me.” She slammed her fist on the counter, trying to act with authority. It was a hard thing for her to pull off, when those same fingers reached up to twirl a lock of hair a second later.
“I'm on a little bit of overload, but I'm fine. Just needed to lie low a couple of days.” I stuffed a salt and vinegar chip in my mouth from the bag of comfort sitting next to me. I was going to have to run out for more. My comfort was running dangerously low.
“Why are you on overload?”
I sat up and debated whether to come clean or not. I didn't want to make a big deal of it, but Luck wasn't going to leave me alone. I was going to have to tell her something, and I didn't have the energy to make up a lie.
“I met Hitler.” It was partially the truth and maybe enough to get her to back off. Then I realized how sad it was that I’d been more rattled by Charlie's new fiancée than Hitler.
“You did?” Her eyes went huge and she squeezed next to me on the couch, grabbing my arm. “What was it like? Was he scary?”
“Not actually scary. More distasteful.”
“What does he look like now?”
“Awkward looking fourteen year old.” As I said it, I realized I wasn’t giving the subject enough weight to make it believable.
She tilted her head and got that look in her eyes, which I knew meant trouble for me. “And that was all that happened?”
“Yes. Why? You don't think that meeting the reincarnated Hitler in the body of a teen—who aren't usually pleasant to begin with—isn't enough?” I tried to infuse more drama into my words, but it was probably too late.
“I think you're lying.” She leaned back on the seat of the couch, crossed her arms and nailed me with a stare.
“I’m not.” I turned on the TV and feigned interest in a show I normally liked. Luck kept staring. I’d never noticed before that she really didn’t blink much. It was a very disconcerting trait. I shivered.
It took about ten minutes and the rest of my chips but I cracked. Who knew how easy I'd be to break, given a non-blinking stare and empty bag. I had some rice cakes on the counter, but that wasn’t nearly enough to get me through this. “Are you going to sit here like this all night?”
She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Nope. Only until you talk.”
If I told her, the whole office might find out. If I didn’t, she wouldn’t leave. “Fine. I saw Charlie. And don't go telling everyone about this, either.”
“You've seen him before. What's the big deal?” She shrugged.
“He was with her.”
“Oooh.” Luck’s “oh” lasted almost a minute as she looked down and to the side.
My lips opened of their own accord as another detail slipped out. “She had an engagement ring on.”
“You knew it was going to happen. Fate warned you Charlie wasn’t your soul mate.” Luck was quickly slipping into damage control mode, as any good girlfriend would.
Nothing she could say would fix my next revelation. “It was bigger.”