7. Zoe
Zoe
“Well, that explains everything.”
I studied the woman across the table, my grandmother’s neighbor who was so protective of her.
Or her house at least. I hoped Grandma was worth the loyalty, unlike my worthless waste of skin father that I’d recently tracked down.
If I’d known how things would go down, I would have come here first when everything in my life went to hell.
There was something about Gretchen that caught my attention, even when she’d been brandishing that metal stick at me. I glanced over to where she’d leaned it against the wall behind her. Based on the coloring, I was pretty sure it was one of those Swiffer brooms, minus the bottom.
She was clearly tough as nails the way she’d come in here not knowing who I was or what I was doing. What if I’d had a gun or I was out of my mind on drugs? She could have gotten hurt.
Gretchen was older than me, but I couldn’t tell exactly how much.
Eight years maybe? Ten? Her pale white face was smooth, but she had little lines at the corners of her icy blue eyes.
She was beautiful, despite that stern expression.
The purple hair seemed at odds with her conservative clothing though. What was the deal with that?
She was petite but muscular, which meant either she worked with her hands, or she worked hard to stay in shape.
She pursed her lips, and I couldn’t help staring at them.
They were full and naturally pink and… wait, was I attracted to this woman?
I did not have time for this, not when my life was a total disaster.
Not to mention I didn’t fool around with uptight women. She was probably terrible in bed.
Gretchen shook her head, then got up to help herself to a bottle of water from the fridge. I used the reprieve to shove another cracker with cheese into my mouth. I was freaking starving.
“Start at the beginning,” she ordered when she returned to the table. “And make it fast before I call the cops.”
“I thought the cops were already on their way,” I said, reminding her of her earlier words.
Her wince was almost imperceptible. If I hadn’t been staring at her I would have missed it.
“Talk!”
I couldn’t say why, but I set down my cheese knife and proceeded to spill my guts to a total stranger.
“Growing up it was just me and my mom,” I started. “We lived in Chicago and, well things were hard sometimes. I know Mom did her best, but she struggled with her mental health and drank too much sometimes to compensate for it.”
Gretchen’s face softened but she didn’t say anything.
“I hadn’t heard from her in three days, which was strange because no matter what was going on, we texted every day. I went to her place and she was…” I cleared my throat and continued. “She was dead. Looked like she aspirated on her own vomit.”
If I closed my eyes I could still see her the day I found her, already cold and dead for a couple of days.
Gretchen leaned forward. “I’m so sorry.”
I blinked a few times, trying not to cry.
“When I was going through her stuff I found my birth certificate and some unopened letters from a woman named Jan Peters. My grandmother. Jan reached out to my mom a few times asking her to get in touch, but I guess she never did. I checked Mom’s phone and she still had her mother’s phone number saved. I guess Jan still has a landline.”
Gretchen pointed to the refrigerator, where an old-fashioned baby blue phone sat on top.
“She told me she keeps it for emergencies, but maybe she kept it in case your mom ever called.”
“Maybe. I called and spoke to Jan and that’s when I realized that she didn’t know she had a granddaughter.
She was suspicious at first, which was smart of her, but I made copies of my birth certificate and pictures of me and my mom together and sent them to her.
We look exactly alike, me and my mom, so she knew I was telling her the truth. ”
“I’m surprised Jan never mentioned this.”
I shrugged. “Maybe it was too painful to talk about, whatever happened with her and my mother. Plus I think it hit her hard that she didn’t know about me. She invited me to come visit, but I told her I couldn’t afford a trip from Chicago to Seattle right now and promised to come next summer.”
“What changed?” Gretchen looked suspicious again. “Did you ask her for money?”
I bristled at the implication. “No, I pay my own way, always. But I tracked down my father and, um, ran into a little trouble so I skipped town and used my paycheck to take the bus out here. I called my grandmother to let her know I was coming but just got her voicemail.”
“What kind of trouble?”
I set my cracker down, suddenly nauseous. “Let’s just say he wasn’t happy to learn he has a daughter, assuming that the name my mother put on my birth certificate was correct.”
I’d been so naive, thinking that my father would be glad to meet me. But my fantasies of a happy reunion were shattered as I realized why my mother had always told me he was dead. My father was the coldest man I’d ever met.
“He’s a criminal, gangs or drugs or something, I don’t know.
My mother apparently double crossed him on some deal they were involved in before I was born and disappeared, so he figures that she owes him money.
Lots of it. And he was super pissed that she never told him about me.
He… well he was yelling at me and making threats, and I got so freaked out I decided it was a good idea to leave Chicago for a while before he figured out that she was dead and came after me instead. ”
“Some criminal asshole is after you so you thought you should lead him to your grandmother?” she asked incredulously.
“No, he doesn’t know about Jan, I’m sure of it,” I protested. “He mentioned Mom being an orphan, plus he was all coked up so I’m not even one hundred percent sure he’s going to remember our conversation anyway.”
I’d been shocked when he did a line of coke right in front of me. I saw all kinds of crazy things living in bad neighborhoods in a big city, but usually people were at least a little bit discreet about their drug use.
“Jesus, what a mess.”
We were both quiet for a few minutes. I nibbled on another saltine, forgoing the cheese this time, and waited for whatever came next.
“I can’t let you stay here until I know for sure that Jan is giving you permission to be in her house,” Gretchen finally said.
I had a feeling she was going to say that.
“I can’t really afford a hotel,” I replied, my voice small. “And I don’t have a car to sleep in. I took the bus here from Chicago.”
I could feel the redness creeping up my cheeks. How was I twenty-eight years old and I couldn’t even afford a hotel? Then again, it wasn’t like waitressing paid that much.
Gretchen sighed deeply. “Fine, you can stay with me tonight.”
I frowned. “I wasn’t asking to stay with you.”
She raised her eyebrows and gave me a belligerent look. “Well, stay with me, sleep outside, or figure something else out. You’re not staying here, not until Jan responds to my email and says it’s okay for you to be here. So make your choice.”
“And if I don’t like my choices?”
“Then we can ask the police to settle this.”
I didn’t think she really would call the cops on me, not when I was pretty sure she believed that I was Jan’s granddaughter, but then again, it wasn’t like I had money to post bail if I was wrong. Besides, I wasn’t totally comfortable staying in my grandmother’s empty house anyway.
“Fine, I’ll stay with you tonight,” I said grudgingly, seeing no other choice. “But I’m not happy about it.”
“You think I am?” she asked. “If you rob me or mess up my place I will hunt you down. And if you kill me in my sleep I will haunt you every day for the rest of your life, understand?”
“What if I kill you while you’re awake?” I couldn’t resist asking. I’d always been one to dispel tension with humor.
The glare she gave me could melt steel. It also was threatening to melt my panties. Whoever this cranky suspicious woman was, I was attracted to her. More than I should be, honestly, given that she wasn’t my usual type – and given that my life was in shambles.
“You’ll get to see some tricks I learned growing up in foster care,” she said darkly. “I learned at an early age how to put grown men in their place. Taking down a skinny girl like you won’t even be a challenge.”
The funny thing was that I had no doubt she meant that. She might be dressed conservatively, but clearly Gretchen had street cred. She looked like she wouldn’t hesitate to take me out.
“Okay, I’d love to stay at your house until we hear back from my grandmother,” I said, my voice saccharine sweet. “Thank you for the kind offer.”