Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I didn’t find a house I liked or a storefront that called my name. I feel like my looking was just a waste of time.
Holding Baylee’s bag as she slips on her shoes, I already feel like I miss her, and she hasn’t even left yet.
Holding her bag out to her, “Call me when you get home, please.”
“I will. And let’s plan a day for you to come back to Driftwood Bay.” She smiles at me playfully.
I just nod my head because I don’t want to tell her no.
Watching as she waits for the elevator, I can’t help but ask, “Bay, what was I saying in my sleep?”
Her laugh travels to my ears as she steps into the elevator; her head quickly peeks out. “Bohdi.” And she disappears, leaving me standing gaping at her parting word. What the hell. Is all I can think.
Sitting in my quiet apartment, Luna on my lap, I get lost in thought. Wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do.
Pulling my phone from the end table, I open my pictures and smile at the ones Baylee and I took, but then I see it. The picture of the for-sale sign. I zoom in on the phone number, but that is the only information on it.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I don’t let myself chicken out but do decide to send a text. It’s Sunday, and I don’t want to be rude.
Hi. I was looking for more information about the storefront that’s for sale. How much is the asking price and the square footage? Do you have a website I can look at pictures of it on? Thank you.
I don’t add my name because it’s not needed right now.
I let my phone fall to the cushion, not believing I had just texted about the store.
My stomach feels upset, but I know that’s just my nerves.
But I go back to the picture and look at it.
Letting myself imagine, just for a second.
Imagine finally having a bakery, doing what I love the most. Then the realization hits me: to have that, I’d have to move back to Driftwood Bay, and is that even something I could do?
Mentally, could I do that? Financially, I can.
I don’t have to sell August Cove; my dad left me plenty of money to do what I need to do.
So that’s a burden I don’t have to worry about.
The only worry I have is me and my past colliding with being back in Driftwood Bay… and by past, I mean Bohdi.
As I’m laying on the sofa, my phone goes off, alerting me to a text message. My hope springs to life but then fades when I see it’s Baylee letting me know she made it home safely. Sending her a quick text, I decide it’s time for bed. My nerves are shot from everything today.
It’s been two days and I still haven’t heard back about the store. I know Baylee said they were weird about who they would let buy and had constantly turned down offers, so it makes me wonder.
Chopping my hopes up, I continue with my plan of finding something new. Scouring the internet, I look up houses for sale, but nothing catches my eye.
So, deciding to find a claw-foot tub for the cottage and the new owners, I turn my attention to it.
All the ones that keep popping up are rusted or just janky, but I continue my search, finally finding pay dirt.
An older home two towns over is getting demolished, so everything is for sale.
Looking at the tub, I see nothing wrong with it from the pictures.
It’s perfect. Squealing, I scare Luna. “Sorry.”
Punching in the phone number, I call the listing and they actually answer. All they want is fifty bucks for it, which is a steal, but I don’t know how I’m going to get it.
Calling them back quickly, I negotiate a delivery to Driftwood Bay. It’ll cost me ten times as much as the tub, but I can’t let it go; it’s perfect.
Planning on meeting them tomorrow to bring them their money and see if there is anything else I want, I hang up.
Excitement. I feel like I’m actually getting somewhere, even if it’s just a bathtub.
Turning onto a dirt road, and all I can think about is this is how I’m going to be killed.
My eyes bounce from side to side, trying to find anything out of the norm, but nothing.
Finally, coming up over a hill, I see the huge Victorian house that Baylee would drool over, and I’m met with a few cars parked out front with people walking in and out, which helps ease my nerves a bit.
Entering the house is beautiful even under the graffiti and the time that has taken on it.
After introducing myself, a stalky man reaches his hand out. “Hi, I’m Mark. We spoke on the phone. Let me show you to the tub. It’s already taken out of the bathroom, of course.”
Mark leads me to what looks like it was a sitting room, and there she sits, beautiful.
My hand glides over the cast iron that’s lined with porcelain. It just needs a superb cleaning. “It’s beautiful.”
“We have doors, fixtures, and everything set up from here to the kitchen. Take a walk through, and if you see anything else, come find me or one of my guys. They’ll be wearing red T-shirts.”
I take my time walking from the sitting room, giving the house the acknowledgment it deserves. Knowing I’ll be one of the last handful of people to walk through her.
I stop in my tracks when I come to an old, vintage wooden door. The stained glass within it reminds me of the window in the cottage hallway. I know nothing about door measurements, but I decided to get it too. And worst-case scenario, if it doesn’t fit, I’ll let Bay have it.
By the time I’m done, I have the tub, a front door, a chandelier, and an old iron porch set.
I make plans for them to deliver the items to the cottage tomorrow afternoon, which I need to get with Kai and let him know…also that I want him to add them. He’s going to hate me. I can’t help the laugh I let out on my way to the car.
Stopping for fast food, I FaceTime Bay on my drive back home, knowing it’s after five and Kai is most likely home.
Her smiling face pops up on the screen, filling the whole thing.
Laughing, “Can you scoot back? All I see is your colossal head.” I tell her jokingly.
“Rude,” she mumbles but scoots back.
“I’m driving back home, but wanted to see if Kai happens to be there?”
“Hey, August,” comes from behind the phone; Bay's eyes track him, showing nothing but love in them. Kai comes into view behind Bay. “What’s up?”
“Okay, don’t hate me, but I have a delivery coming tomorrow afternoon, maybe around three.
I found a clawfoot tub.” I smile and Baylee claps in excitement at my find.
“Also,” I pause, taking a quick glance at my phone screen and back to the road, “I have a door and a chandelier coming. Could you install them as well? Of course, I'll pay extra for the labor." It’s quiet, and I hear him cough loudly, and I know Baylee just elbowed him. I don’t laugh, though. I need his help, so I pretend I didn’t hear it, pursing my lips so they can’t see my smile.
“Okay. Yes, I will,” he begrudgingly replies.
“Thank you!”
“Don’t hang up, August,” Baylee grunts into the camera.
“Dang, I wasn’t.” But really, I was.
“Why did you buy those things?” The video bounces around as she gets settled.
Pulling into my parking garage and parking, I can finally pay attention to the phone. “It will help with the sale, I think.”
“You’re a damn liar.” She zooms in on her eye. And I can’t help laughing.
“I don’t know, Bay. I’m so confused. I do not know what to do,” I whine to her.
“Listen.” Bay fixes the camera, propping the phone on a pillow. “Do what I said: come home for a few months, try it out. If it doesn’t work, at least you tried and won’t have regrets.”
“I hear you, but I just don’t know.” And I don’t.
That’s a huge step, but honestly, what will I lose to do it?
I have three more months on my lease. I can pay the rent here while I’m there.
“I know it’s at least another two to three weeks until it’s fully done,” I tell her as I unhook my phone, grab my tote and my food, making my way to my apartment elevator.
In the elevator, I push the numbered button for my floor, look at my phone, and see that Bay has frozen. “Shit,” I mumble, but when I do, I hear an awful noise above the elevator, and it jerks to a stop. Panic draws screaming from my lungs.
I start pushing all the buttons while my other hand moves my phone around, trying to get a signal.
The call button on the elevator lights up, and then I push the emergency button, “Hi! I’m stuck in the elevator, please come help,” I beg, tears on the brink. I fall to the floor, shaking. Panic rising inside me. No one answers.
I sit there, legs drawn to my chest, heaving, when I hear a voice.
“Hello?” I scream, but the voice doesn’t come from the elevator speaker or outside. Looking down, I see Baylee moving.
“August, what’s wrong? What happened?” Panic fills her voice.
“I’m okay,” I lie. “I’m stuck in the elevator.”
“Oh, hell no,” is her only reply. Before she glitches again. “I’m.” The screen freezes. “Call.” And finally, the call completely drops. Leaving me totally alone.
Sitting completely still, afraid to move, I began to hyperventilate. Dropping my tote and emptying the contents of my to-go paper bag onto the elevator floor, I bring it to my mouth and start breathing in it. Trying to combat the panic I’m in.
My legs tingle. I was never scared of confined places until my mom died. Now, I panic anytime I’m in an elevator; just recently it has become bad. And, unfortunately for me, because I’ve tried, it’s hell making it up the seven floors to my apartment.
The intercom comes to life, scaring me even more. “Miss. The fire department is on its way; you’ll be out in no time,” the man on the intercom informs me.
Slowly inching myself back to the far corner of the elevator, I sit there with my knees drawn to my chest, finally feeling like I can take a deep enough breath to fill my lungs.
My mind is racing. How the hell am I going to be able to force myself back onto this death trap once I’m free?
And just the thought of that scares me more.
I busy my fingers turning my bracelet around and around on my wrist, trying to concentrate on breathing.
After thirty-plus minutes, I hear a commotion on the other side of the elevator door. “Hello!” I scream out, my voice cracking.
“Miss, we’re going to get this door open. Hang tight and stay seated until we tell you to move,” they muffledly instruct me.
The sound of metal-on-metal pierces my ears, making me wince as I watch the metal doors part just a tiny fraction, their voices audible inside the elevator, letting me hear more clearly. “This thing is stuck between floor four and five,” they speak among themselves.
My fear begins to quiet down a bit knowing there’s other people so close to me. Until they all yell, and the elevator falls for a brief second. My scream bounces around the metal tin.
Not able to stay sitting, needing to be as close to the opening as I can. I run to the cracked doors, prying my fingers between them, trying to open it myself. “Please get me out,” I cry.
“Hey, what’s your name?” a voice calls to me.
“August. I’m August Graft,” I sob out.
“That’s a cool name, August. You’ll be out soon,” they promise.
There are groans and moans as the doors are pulled open. As soon as I see it’s open enough for my body, “I’m coming out!” I scream.
“No, no. Wait,” they call to me.
I see the metal bar poke back between the doors as they push on one door, forcing it open, the metal bending under their force.
Finally, light shines, and I can see them, and yep. I’m stuck right between the fifth floor.
“I’m going to help you come out. I’ll be holding onto both your hands. Use your feet to climb the cement the few feet up,” I’m instructed.
“Okay,” I shakily call out, raising my hands through the door. I feel them pulling; my arms sting with their force, but I ignore it.
Placing my feet on the cement wall, pushing up, and with one good pull, my head is out, and they hurriedly pull me the rest of the way out into the hallway.
My stomach scrapes, my legs bang into the concrete, but I’m finally free, laying on the cold hallway floor.
Leaning myself up, I hear commotion behind me.
“Move. It’s going,” a man screams. The noise of the elevator falling is something I never want to hear again.
Loud, metal, and uncanny. Sounds fear is made of.
The impact is loud, and I swear I can feel it.
“Oh, fuck,” I repeat. The reality is slapping me in the face that I was just in there, and my body begins to shake violently.
“Do you need medical attention?” I’m asked, but I can’t see which one spoke the question.
My eyes pan the crowd of first responders. “No, I’m okay. I just want to go to my apartment.” I feel my shoulder for my tote, but I left it in the elevator. My hand flies back to my back pocket, sighing when I feel my phone.
I don’t remember walking the two flights of stairs to my apartment, but Luna greets me when I enter, as the firefighter tells me goodnight.
My whole body is trembling from the fright, and the comedown my body is trying to do.
I don’t stop until I’m lying in my bed, clothes still on. When my phone blares through the quiet apartment, startling me.
“Are you okay?” I don’t even get a word in before Baylee is in hysterics. “What the hell happened?”
That is when I burst open, crying and telling her what happened. My words fly out, getting caught by hiccups from me crying so hard.
“Oh, August. Oh, my god. I’m sorry that happened to you.” She tries to console me, but it doesn’t help.
I just had the life scared out of me. “I love you, Baylee. I’ll call you in the morning,” I say through muffled cries.
“No,” she begs, but then she gently tells me, “Okay. As soon as you wake up. I love you.”
Hanging up, I curl into a fetal position and cry myself to sleep.
I didn’t sleep well. I woke up in fright too many times to count. Feeling like my stomach was falling out of me, or my heart was going to pound out from behind my rib cage.