Chapter 1 #2
“Thank you for bringing my bags in here.”
Jeanne nodded and said, “Mr. Waite wouldn’t like Kayden becoming upset. He’s a sensitive one.”
“Kayden’s my replacement?”
“Yes, he is,” she agreed with a definitive nod, but I heard the pity and sympathy in her voice too, which was its own kind of humiliation. “Where are you going to go?”
“Truthfully?” I asked.
She studied me like I was a specimen on display, but my only answer was a shrug. There was no one to call, nowhere to crash, and no one who’d likely care anyway. “I don’t know.”
“Then it doesn’t matter where you end up.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.” I laughed harshly.
“Andrew, you had to know this was how it would end.” Jeanne said it so plainly that I had to decipher the words for their actual meaning. It was like she was speaking in code, but only one of us understood it.
“That my boyfriend would dump me?”
“Boyfriend…? C’mon, Andrew, we both know Jonathan was never that.”
“Uh, no, actually, I very much did not know that. I lived in his home and slept in his bed. I…I…had my own stocking at Christmas, for Pete’s sake. A stocking means family.” Her bafflement at my bafflement baffled me.
“Yes, you were his companion, and now he has a new one. You knew that would happen eventually.” She hesitated, then added, “For the record, I bought that stocking so the mantel wouldn’t look lopsided.”
“How could I know that?” I retorted.
“How could you not?” She looked genuinely confused, which made two of us.
I alternated between squirming and preening under her scrutiny because I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to land.
“Lord, save me from clueless men. I know someone who can help.”
“Thanks for the ride.”
The Uber driver nodded his acknowledgment but was too distracted by his next pickup to bother answering.
I didn’t blame him. His part of the job was over, and now I was just wasting his time.
There likely was a metaphor in that, but I was too tired to piece it together.
Every step took more effort than I wanted to put into it.
Well, damn.
Anything was preferable to walking up the stairs, knocking on the door, and admitting I was an abject failure with nowhere else to go, so I took a few minutes to study my surroundings.
I was like a writer trying to avoid actual writing, but at least the scenery was a nice distraction.
The grounds were gorgeous. The house was lovely.
The land was quiet, and the only thing out of place was me.
Except I wasn’t out of place. My luggage was fancy.
My clothes were on point. My hair was excellent, my world was falling apart, and now, oh shit, the door was opening.
“You’ve made it. We’ve been expecting you.” A smoothly masculine voice wafted down the stairs from inside the open door.
The back lighting kept me from seeing him clearly, but the voice was firm and kind, which was good enough for me.
They were standing there waiting for me, and so, with a sigh I felt to my toes, I picked up my luggage and made my way up the steps, huffing and puffing because it had been a while since I had carried anything heavier than a shopping bag.
Was that why Jonathan kicked me to the curb?
“Nice to meet you.”
If I’d ever felt more awkward, I couldn’t remember the time. It was surreal. I got up this morning thinking I had a boyfriend and home, but it turned out I had neither.
“Same to you. I’m Phoenix. Welcome to my home.”
He called it home, but the foyer was set up as a reception area more than a house.
From inside, I heard the bustle of people in other rooms and saw them through the back windows.
It was a halfway house for the people with nowhere else to go.
Almost forty and homeless. How special for me. Effing yay.
“Thanks for letting me stay.”
“It’s why we’re here. If there’s a need, we try to step in and help, so let’s get you situated.” Phoenix continued talking about food and visitors and things I wouldn’t remember and knew I’d ask about later anyway.
Phoenix’s running commentary was likely designed to be a distraction from the fact that I’d been kicked to the curb by Jonathan. He led me up the stairs, down a hall, and our trip ended at an interior door. He pushed the door open, and I followed.
The room was dominated by a full-size bed on the far wall with a little sitting area over by the windows.
Somehow, I’d lucked out with a room overlooking the backyard, and before me, men of all shapes, most younger than me, played some kind of game of tag on the lawn.
Their giggles reached all the way to the second floor, and despite my mood, I had to smile at their antics.
It must be amazing to be free while not questioning everything.
“I’ll let you settle, but I hope you’ll join us for dinner.”
Phoenix let himself out of the room, and I flopped back on the bed.
Unfortunately, the ceiling refused to provide any insight into my dumpster fire of a life.
I was staring down middle age and staying in a homeless shelter—though it was an extra nice one—with no clue how I’d ended up at this point or where I was supposed to go next.
There was only one solution.
Sleep from now until this nightmare was over.