Underestimated (Underestimated, #1)

I was now nervous about flying. I had never been on a plane. Hell, I had never been out of the mountains.

Drew directed me to the leather seat and told me to put my seatbelt on. The white leather was the softest thing I had ever felt in my life, and although I was scared shitless about my future, I couldn’t help but to be a little excited about the flight.

Drew sat beside me and buckled in, as well. Once we were up, I looked out the small window and was in awe of gliding through the clouds. He touched my hair and smiled at me. I flinched and pulled away.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Las Vegas,” he answered.

“Las Vegas?” I asked.

“Did you not hear me the first time?” he snidely remarked.

I didn’t know how to respond. He obviously expected some other reply, but I didn’t know what it was, so I didn’t say anything. I stared out the window, wondering what lay ahead.

I wasn’t a dummy. I knew the distance between West Virginia and Las Vegas. I couldn’t believe that I was going that many miles from the only home I had ever known. Would I ever see my brother again? How would my mom ever find me? My dad could rot in hell. I didn’t care if I ever saw him again.

The man brought two glasses of wine along with some cheese and crackers. Drew handed me the glass of wine, and I sipped it. I didn’t like it and thought it was bitter and sweet. I of course drank it, and the cheese and crackers helped settle my stomach. I had never tasted such rich cheese in my life. If I did eat cheese it was the wrapped imitation kind with not much flavor at all.

I was brought back to current when I sipped my empty cup of tea. It was a lot easier to tell myself that I was going to move here and never think about my previous twenty five years on this earth than it was to actually do it.

Maybe I should seek counseling. No. No. I just need to occupy my mind and stop thinking about the past. I liked my job. I loved Lauren, and my house was perfect for me.

I even loved the rough terrain beach.

I woke in a panic once again, too early. I sat up and calmed my speeding heart. I was getting used to talking myself down. I thought about the dream and wondered why it always went back to my childhood. I got up and looked out the window. The moon was full and had a misty halo circling it. I could see Justin screaming for me not to let the social worker take him. He was so little and scared. All I could do is watch them take him. They didn’t take me because the lady explained that nobody would want a seventeen year old girl and that I was old enough to take care of myself. She promised that I could see him, but every time I called, she had a different excuse as to why I couldn’t.

I showered even though I should have gone back to bed. I pulled on my new cotton panties and fuzzy socks. I checked myself out in the full length mirror, hanging on the back of my bedroom door. My jeans fit much better than the ones that I had brought with me. I wore one of my new shirts as well, and that too looked good on me. It fit snug and hugged my body in all the right places. I pulled a white button up shirt overtop. I knew I should have worn my old clothes. I was going to get dirty. I was sure of it.

I pulled up to the curb of the coffee shop, knowing that it was closed on Sundays, I didn’t have to worry about taking any parking spaces. I made one pot of coffee for myself and looked around. Where do I begin? I was sure the place had never had a good cleaning, and after a week, my OCD couldn’t take it a second longer. I knew I could rearrange things to make better use of the space. It was a decent size store. It was just going to take more manpower than me. Maybe I could talk Lauren into helping me. I decided that I would start at the very front and work my way back. I needed to work on the front while the store was closed.

I poured a cup of the delicious coffee and started on the windows. Wow. These things have never been cleaned. I cleaned the windowsills first, using three buckets of water to rid the wood from the dust and grime.

Starlight definitely wasn’t the cleaning type. After cleaning the wood trim I decided that I should clean the walls, as well. I was sure that they had never had a good scrubbing either.

The sun was just coming up, and I was almost finished with the front wall. I was astounded at the difference between the front wall and the side walls. They weren’t tan after all. They were a very unique pale yellow. I liked it. I was just finishing up with the window cleaner on the door when I heard the tap on the glass. I peeked down from the chair that I had been using for a ladder and hopped down.

“Kind of early for criminals eh, sheriff?” I asked, opening the door for Dawson.

“Or late,” he replied, stepping in, “and I told you, call me Dawson.”

“What can I do for you?” I asked, not wanting to stop my task at hand. I was making good time, and I wanted to keep at it.

Jettie Woodruff's books