Chapter Five Claire
Pine Ridge belongs on a postcard. At least, that’s what I think when I enter the city limits as the sun sinks into the tall, dark strands of pines along a craggy ridge. (Oh. That makes sense. The people of this town obviously believe in truth in advertising.)
Why, yes, I am in that little town I researched. Why, yes, I did just gamble that this town, with its triangulation of stuff I need, will come through.
I didn’t have anywhere else to go, anyway.
My maternal grandparents are living in an assisted living community in Florida, my brother thinks my father is a genius who can do no wrong, and unsurprisingly, the people in my circle only see the luxury being Luke Langdon’s daughter affords and don’t understand why I’m not happy.
The girls I grew up with are focused on their careers or their looks, and the girls I met in college would beg for an internship at Double L Investments.
I should have asked for Renaldo’s cell number. I’ll call the desk tomorrow and ask.
Right now, it’s getting dark, and I need to get to a hotel.
I pause and rub my forehead. I’m an idiot. I’m driving my home on wheels, and I’m worried about leaving it parked in some hotel lot overnight.
Couldn’t I have just stuck it out with my dad for a few more days to make arrangements? That would have been the adult thing to do, right?
Or was I right to stand my ground and get out of there?
I’m so tired I don’t know the answer.
“God, give me a sign, okay?”
Yeah, it’s not much of a prayer. I’m not much of a pray-er.
I haven’t prayed much since my mother died—I don’t get why God would do that.
Actually, that’s not true. I know exactly why God did that, and it was a shitty thing to do.
My mother needed a liver transplant. She got one.
She didn’t even have to wait for years and years on a transplant list. My father heard she needed one, and somehow—within a month, we were flying to Richmond on a private jet, to one of the best transplant and anti-rejection centers in the world.
The surgery went fine. There were no complications.
Two weeks later, right after her first check-up with her top-notch doctors back in New York, my mother fell into a coma. A few days later, she died without waking up.
God was trying to tell my dad that money can’t buy everything.
My dad didn’t learn the lesson, and I got punished.
“Why am I thinking about this now?” I growl. My mother wasn’t the most attentive, either, but once she found out she needed a transplant, she made sure we had lots of time to “bond.”
Sometimes I wonder if it would have been easier if we hadn’t.
I’m stopped at a red light. I’d put Pine Ridge in my GPS when I left the city, and now I’m here.
I need to pull off and find a hotel or—
My cell phone rings. I was able to change my account settings and keep my number, so I tense, worried that it could be my dad on a tirade or my brother on a holier-than-thou guilt trip.
It’s not. The screen reads Wymark, Alban.
Why does that name sound familiar?
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Claire?”
“Speaking.” I pull into the parking lot of a daycare center. It’s clearly closed, and hopefully no one will hassle me if I sit here and get my bearings.
“I’m Alban Wymark, the guy with the one-bedroom for rent. You sent an email today?”
“Oh, right.” My stomach falls. He said one bedroom. “It’s just the one room, then?” I knew it couldn’t be a whole apartment, not at that price.
“Yep, just one bedroom, single bath. But the living room is fairly sizable, and it has lots of closet space.”
My stomach is cautiously creeping back to its normal position. “What about the kitchen?”
“Well... it has one. All the major appliances are included. There’s a newer model fridge, a microwave, an oven... uh. A sink?”
I don’t care if the fridge is from the sixties as long as it still works. “I’d love to look at it! I just arrived in Pine Ridge this evening. I know it’s too late to view the apartment tonight, but what about tomorrow morning?”
“Well, I hate to seem pushy, but tonight would actually be better. I have a meeting early tomorrow morning, and I’ll be away all day. When I get home, I like to help my wife with our twins. Would there be any chance you could do a fifteen-minute walk-through?”
I look at the sky. I swear a star is winking at me.
Mom?
God?
Who knows?
“I can look. When is it available?”
“Tonight, I guess. That is, no one lives there at the moment. If you’re happy with it and you have the money and references, you can move in whenever.”
My stomach continues its journey of ups and downs. Isn’t that a little precipitous of the guy? What if he’s some serial killer who lures women to remote buildings? Why isn’t he worried that I’m a serial killer?
Is this what living in a small town is like?
I shake myself. It’s weird. I don’t think I like it.
I’ll put my paring knife (in its cardboard sheath) in my pocket, have my mace in one hand, and I won’t go in unless the apartment is in a populated area.
“That sounds good. I have money, but you may not be able to get in touch with all of my references tonight.” I had listed the super of our building, which was a risk as my father is on the resident’s committee and would probably try to fire him for helping me.
“Well, it can’t hurt to look.” The guy is cheerfully optimistic.
That’s going to get old pretty quickly... unless I embrace it.
Renaldo’s voice swirls pleasantly in my mind. “You’re ready to fly solo, aren’t you?” “You have all you need.”
“Can’t hurt. What’s the address again?” I called several places today, and I’m not sure which one Alban Wymark owns.
He gives me the address and adds, “Where are you now?”
“At the moment, I’m near a daycare center.”
“The one just after you get into town?”
“Right.”
“Oh, that’s easy! You’re going to want to keep coming straight south on that road until you get to Pinecrest Avenue, and then you’ll see some red brick three-story buildings.
Look for Stilz Jewelers, Mad Hatter Music, and Chloe’s Curiosities above the music store.
There’s a little alley, and then that’s our building on the opposite side, almost diagonally across from Stilz. I’ll meet you out front!”
“Great!”