15. The Inheritance #2
She stood and took it to the bathroom, clogged the sink to avoid it being washed away with the water, then rinsed it clean.
I need a place to hide it until morning. I’m worried the men will come here, suspicious that I have it and ransack the place to find it.
She opened her cabinet, eyeing some medicine bottles and landing on some tampons.
Not to mention what they’ll do to me if they find out I lied. She shuddered at the thought. Darla took one out and wrapped the cotton part in toilet paper, then put it in the wastepaper basket. Then, she carefully placed the key in the wrapper and put it back in the box.
It wasn’t the best spot, but it would have to do for the night. Her purse was in the living room, so she limped to grab it. In her wallet she had $100 cash, which was too much. She grabbed the cash and went back to her room and stuffed it in her sock drawer.
She formed a new plan quickly, and she couldn’t have cash on her for it to work. Laying down on the bed, satisfied with what she planned to do tomorrow, she decided it would be safe to attempt to sleep. Still in her dress, she climbed under the sheets and turned off the lamp.
Just as she reached the final point of her plan, she felt her eyelids droop and she drifted off into a soundless sleep.
The sun peeked through the blinds and landed directly on her face.
Why a bed would be positioned under a window makes no sense to me.
She opened her eyes and blinked. What time is it? She rolled over and glanced at the clock and jumped up.
“The salon opens soon. I need to get going.” She rushed around and threw together a smart looking outfit, one that showed she was going to run errands today. Just before she left, she remembered the most important part, the key. She retrieved it and tucked the wrapped key into her purse.
The telephone rang from the living room. She picked up, and an out of breath Meg was on the other line.
“Hi, Darla! I’m so sorry to bother you so early. Do you think you could come take a shift at the library today?”
Darla bit her lip. She was still sore from the previous night’s five-mile hike. Meg was probably in worse shape since she was significantly older.
“Hi Meg, I can later today. I need to run some errands first thing this morning. I hope you can understand, and I will see you later.” She hung up before Meg could respond.
The more days that passed, and the more people who were aware of her situation, allowed for a greater risk of danger. The driver wasn’t the only threat she needed to worry about.
Now there was Charles and Dylan to both worry about as well. She kept walking through all the steps needed to make it to the bank as she descended to the first floor.
Steve was in the hallway working on a light fixture. His tools were strewn about on the floor around him.
“Good morning,” she offered first. It would be better to not avoid him and make things more awkward between them. He smiled and tipped his hat at her as she rushed past him and towards her car.
Driving became an easy task in a short amount of time for Darla, although she took it slow to be safe. She found a pull-in parking spot right by the hairdresser. She took a deep breath. Her plan was in motion, and she was sure she was being followed.
An unknown black sedan had begun following her shortly after she left her apartment.
They drove past and pulled into a spot a few cars down.
She watched carefully, standing by her car as Charles emerged from the back.
They made eye contact, and she simply nodded her head at him and then turned to go to the hairdresser.
A bell dinged overhead as she pushed the frosted glass door open. The salon had barely opened for the day and was already bustling. She exhaled once she was through the door. She didn’t want him to know she was rattled by his appearance.
Get it together, Darla.
Several women were under hair dryers, attempting to make conversation over the whirring sound. A lady with foils in her hair sat quietly reading a book in a salon chair. A few haircuts were wrapping up and some were just starting.
“Hi Darla, may I help you? Weren’t you here last week for a trim?
” A woman approached her wearing a stained apron, years of colorings earmarked a legacy of work for her.
Her name tag read Peggy. She was in her forties and had perfectly styled hair.
For a woman who was working full time, she exuded a familiar attitude of higher class.
“Hi, Peggy. Yes, I am not sure if you heard what happened in the park a couple of days ago … ” Darla waited to see if Peggy knew what she was referring to before continuing.
“Yes, I heard all about it. It was all anyone could talk about yesterday. I am so thankful you came out of that unscathed!” Peggy placed her hand on her heart.
“I am thankful, too. As you can imagine, I am still pretty shaken up by all of it and felt that a day of pampering and shopping might be the distraction I need. Plus, as you can see, my hair is in desperate need of attention.” Darla smiled, attempting to keep it light and airy and to avoid the theatrics of tears shed.
“Well, you are in luck. My morning client just called and canceled. Her husband took a tumble, and she is taking him to the doctor this morning.” Peggy turned to the receptionist. “Kia, can you please fill my morning slot with Darla? She needs some pampering.” Peggy turned and gave Darla a quick wink on the last statement before fully turning and walking to her station.
Darla followed and sat in the seat. This was her first time experiencing a female haircut on this level. She used to cut it herself, or sometimes her mother would.
Peggy began pulling out all the pins carefully that were holding Darla’s hair in place. The hair fell in small tufts until the final pin was removed and her hair rested gently against her back.
“I keep telling you, Darla, we need to cut it if you want to keep up with the current styles. Those women in Hollywood know how to pull off the most gorgeous pulled back curled styles, but with your length, the best we can do is pin it out of your face and curl it down the back.” Peggy ran her fingers into the thick locks, debating how it should be styled.
“Okay. Let’s do it. I want you to cut it.” Darla spoke to Peggy’s reflection in the mirror and watched as Peggy stopped and immediately gripped Darla’s shoulders. Excitement spread across Peggy’s face as she gave Darla’s shoulders a squeeze.
“Are you serious? I have been begging you for months to let me cut it. You have a face like one of those starlets I see in the theater. I’m going to make you look fabulous! Now, follow me. We need to get you a good shampoo and condition going.”
As the hair treatment began, Darla leafed through a magazine from the waiting area. A nagging feeling pulled on her from the inside. She was the rightful inheritor of the VanHugh fortune. She had worked hard for many years, and she was the one who had built the fortune to what it was.
Her thoughts pondered different reasons why she would feel so threatened to go in and claim it proudly. Her gift allowed her to access unbelievable wealth, and she had worked hard for it.
She flipped to a new page in the magazine and it landed on a black and white photo of a woman about her age and her insides twinged with the familiar feeling of jealousy. When she looked up at her reflection in the mirror, it hit her like lightning during a rainstorm.
Why am I so jealous? I am pretty, if not prettier than this young actress. Maybe I could make something of myself out West like these young starlets.
A tingle ran down the length of her spine and she knew right then this is what she was destined for.
I’m going to go West and become an actress.
By the time Peggy had finished her hair style her mind was fully made up. Darla was satisfied with how it turned out, and she had all but abandoned her original plan. Now she was going to pay with a check and go straight to the bank.
A life of luxury was what she craved above all else, and nothing or no one was going to stand in her way.
“What are you smiling about, Darla? Let me guess. You love how your hair looks?” Peggy paused her work to assess the progress so far.
“I love it, honestly. And I have just had a moment of genius. I am going to go to Hollywood and become an actress.” Darla held out the open editorial to Peggy that showcased the young actress.
“What a wonderful idea. Get away from here. Start fresh.” Peggy removed the drape and brushed some loose hair from Darla’s shoulders. “Okay dear, my next appointment is waiting. Good luck!”
Back outside the salon, Darla felt recharged and ready for the next stage of her life. She didn’t care that Charles was following her. The money rightfully belonged to her.
She strutted confidently, head held high. She felt lighter, partly because her hair was a shorter length, and partly because she was about to claim what was rightfully hers. She admired people she passed on the street.
The bank wasn’t far from the salon, and she wanted to take the time to savor these moments. Her attempts at opening herself up to people proved fruitless. She was better off taking care of herself and focusing on her needs alone.
All the lives she had lived so far have helped her.
They have all guided her to this moment: her life as a child, as Jane, taught her how to survive: cold winters, brutal summers, famine, disease.
It all taught that there was a time and place to take help from people around while also minding your own responsibilities.
Her time as Abigail taught her the importance of mastering a skill set, one that would provide a sense of accomplishment as well as a source of income. She learned that even small dreams were possible with enough hard work and determination.
Theresa’s time showed that even the people closest to you could cause you the most harm, both intentionally and unintentionally, that relying on others for your success and happiness was a fool’s game that would ultimately lead to your downfall.
Richard was complicated, as so many years were spent as him. She learned how to grow an established business into a booming empire. Femininity was lost as male dominance had to reign in making sure the business was prosperous. He did not keep up with female trends and fashion.
But now as Darla, she had reclaimed her love of femininity, and had come out the other side stronger than ever.
She felt like she had a superpower that she read about in the magazines during her hair appointment.
Once she had the money, and all the business was sold and dissolved, she knew what her next path was going to be.
She arrived at the bank in no time and headed straight to an open teller. The key thumped on the counter and made a loud clang sound. The teller jumped in surprise at the sound and her hand knocked her black-rimmed glasses askew on her nose.
“Good morning. May I help you?” The woman fixed her glasses and smiled professionally at Darla.
“Yes. I am here to make a withdrawal.” Darla smiled wide in triumph as she pushed the brass key towards the teller.