As those old, worn tapes played in her mind, Addison turned towards a mirror attached to a double door closet. What an odd place to set one; she’d noticed it immediately when she’d rented the nice but tiny place. She took in her image from head to toe…
Short dark brown curly hair covered her head, some pieces stragglier and straighter than others while a few had thick, lustrous coils. She pulled at a cluster of strands, stretching them to about six or seven inches, then let them spring back. Today she’d added a bit of water and olive oil to loosen the curl and seal in the moisture. Her hot pink sports bra and black tank top over it were soaked with perspiration, like the black and ocean blue leggings. A pair of white Sketchers sneakers she’d purchased online completed her workout outfit.
She ran a hand across her cheek, feeling dehydrated skin. The bags under her eyes were a purplish hue and her typical supple tan lips were dry and cracked like an Arizona desert. She walked over to her cellphone and plucked her purse that was sitting next to it from the floor.
Digging into the thing, she removed a small bottle of lotion she’d snatched from a hotel room over a year ago, and a chap stick, too. Then, she moseyed back over to the mirror, fluffed her hair, and liberally applied the needed moisture to her lips and almond-colored face and arms. On a sigh, she returned the items to her purse and grabbed a stack of tri-folded papers before slumping to the floor and flipping through them.
Copies of the divorce papers…
The rental property lease…
The storage facility contract…
The confirmation of an appointment with a job recruiter the following morning…
She opened and closed her legs, restlessness compelling her to move, and she tapped her left foot to the slow beat of the gloomy music. She looked down at the employment agency information as her thoughts faded in and out.
Dexter Employment Staffing & Consulting Agency
Agent: A. Quade Summers
Time of Appointment: 9:00 AM
A. Quade Summers… hmmm, that’s a different name.
She smirked as she rolled around that moniker in her mind.
Quade…Quade… Like Wade I guess, but with a ‘Qu’… or does he pronounce it, Quee-ade? Maybe it’s a woman—a foreign woman? No, Quade sounds masculine. Who knows though? I wonder what the ‘A’ stands for?
Standing again, she walked over to one of the many boxes that threatened to topple over. Snatching the tape off the crease and sides, she dug into the container, removing stacks of CDs she’d collected from her college years.
This was supposed to go to storage. Oh, well…
She smiled as she recalled some of the oldies but goodies in her stash, figuring she’d give them another chance once she got settled. Those had been happy times in her life, unlike the harsh reality she faced now. Shaking off the troubling, depressing thoughts, she marched over to her phone and set her alarm for 7:30 AM.
That’ll give me time to work out, eat breakfast, get dressed, and make it there on time.
Deciding to listen to something else, she perused her phone’s playlist and selected Porter Robison’s “Goodbye to a World.” She laughed miserably at her choice, then resumed her unpacking, going through the motions in an almost robotic fashion. Moments later, she found herself placing plates in slightly slanted kitchen cabinets and praying they didn’t slide out and crash onto the ground. She turned the music louder before cleaning the oven inside and out, removing old grease and slick oil—an obviously forgotten housekeeping task left to her to deal with.
Her eyes watered as she moved on to bleaching the dishwasher and refrigerator a good time or two, the fumes a bit overpowering, but she opened the windows and fought through it. She fell into the beat of the various tunes as she daydreamed and fought tears and bursts of maniac laughter. Meanwhile, she ignored several phone calls from her many friends, telling herself she’d call them back later. Surely, they could wait, allowing her just a little more time to simply fall apart and swim in the deepest pool of sadness she could dive into…
CHAPTER TWO
Love Your Brother, Love Thy Neighbor
The awesome vibe to a no drama day had been ruined. Aiden hadn’t confirmed that his peace of mind was officially destroyed, but he instinctively knew it was Destruction Eve based on the caller ID. Aiden cut his eyes at his phone, then looked away with a huff. Things had been going too well, so he wondered how soon his apple cart would be rocked and toppled over, changing his luck. The phone rang and rang, went to voicemail, then began again. Once a week, his younger brother, Perry, would call. It was that time.
Fuck it. Just answer. It’s not like I can escape.
He snatched the phone up and shoved it towards his ear. Before he could get a word out, his brother started up.
“She’s really done it now. This time she busted up the place, Aiden.”
“Work or home?” Aiden got up from his desk and made his way towards the restrooms for a bit more privacy.
“She’s at home. They said they heard a lot of glass and shit. I am not going over there, man, got a meeting in a little bit, but one of us better go before the police show up.”
“This is fucking ridiculous. I can’t keep leaving work early or time my lunches around mom’s crap. I told you to stop giving her extra money. She just spends it on booze!”
“How are you gonna make this about me? How is it my damn fault, Aiden?!”
“It’s not your fault, but you’re enabling her. She’s an alcoholic, has been for years, and you’re not helping. You never want to face ’er and then you leave me to clean up all the mess afterward.”
“You’re a real piece of work, Aiden. You help her out, too! You call to make sure she gets up for work; you go over and straighten up her house and take her grocery shopping. I’m not the only damn one, okay?”
Going inside a bathroom stall, he closed and locked the door behind him.
“But none of that is helping her drink, Perry! Those are things I do because she’s older and our mom, period! If she was a nun or prostitute, I’d do it for her, makes me no difference. Anyway, her neighbor called you again, I take it?”