Hope(less) (Judgment of the Six) Read online

  I drew my brief gaze from her as she stood to watch Sam do a Y turn to back into the driveway. Using the side mirror of the truck, I studied the house.

  A cracked and uneven sidewalk led to the front steps. Faded yellow aluminum siding and brown trim gave the small house a slightly run down look. Rachel had mentioned room dimensions to me to prepare me. After living at Sam’s place, it did seem small from the outside. Only two windows adorned on the front of the house, a large picture window, which probably meant a living room and, on the side of the house close to the driveway, a much smaller window. With the shade half drawn, I assumed it belonged to a bedroom. How many houses had just two windows on their front? At least, the windows and roof looked new.

  As Sam backed into the driveway, I smiled and waved to Rachel. I had the window rolled down enjoying the warm day.

  “Hi! Gabby, right?” Rachel said walking toward the truck as Sam put it in park. She smiled excitedly.

  “Yes,” I answered her question as I stepped out of the truck. She caught me off guard by pulling me into an embrace. I fought the urge to pull back.

  With my arms pinned to my sides, I added, “I hope you’re Rachel.” This time I did pull back, and she let me escape from her exuberant hug.

  “I’m so glad to see you look so normal,” she said looking even happier than she had a moment ago. “I was worried I’d end up with someone weird when I put that add in the paper.” Ah, that explained the happiness. Too bad, she had no idea how “weird” I was.

  Sam came from around from his side of the truck. “Rachel, this is my grandpa, Sam,” I introduced.

  “Hi, Sam!” He quickly extended his hand for a friendly handshake and I hid my smile. He’d noticed her boisterous hug.

  Rachel clasped his hand and offered, “Would you like to come in and see the place before we carry everything in?” She darted a puzzled glance at the back of the truck.

  I smiled and assured her, “We’ll be able to carry it in and take a tour at the same time. I don’t have much.”

  We grabbed my bags and walked around to the front of the house to go through the front door. The front door opened to a small entry, with the vacant bedroom immediately to the right, a small hall closet straight ahead, and the living room to the left.

  We all stepped into my room to set down my things. I’d been correct about the window being a bedroom window.

  As Rachel had promised, it came furnished with a full-sized bed. Positioned in the middle of the room, I had enough space around it to walk. Accustomed to a twin, it seemed overly large. Thankfully, I had the correct bedding for it. A gift from Sam. The closet was a small rectangle, but more than enough space for what I owned. The only other piece of furniture in the room, a small battered wood dresser, leaned against the interior wall. Nothing decorated the walls, which Rachel said she’d done on purpose, so I can add my own flare to the room.

  Rachel gave us the grand tour of the five-room house. The living room, long, but not very deep, occupied the rest of the front of the house. Rachel had it tastefully decorated. Two sets of curtains hung in the picture window. The soft cream-colored set faced the road, while the inside set matched the color of the worn brown leather couch centered in front of the window. Square wooden end tables holding cream-colored lamps with matching shades crowded each end of the couch.

  A chair, set at a sharp angle against the interior wall in order to view the TV, used the remaining space in the living room. The TV wall she’d painted a medium brown while the standard off-white covered the rest of the walls, including my bedroom and the entry. A large dark-brown rug, a shade close to the color of the couch and the curtains, covered all but a small swath of the living room’s beige carpet. Overall, the room looked comfortable.

  Through the living room’s arched doorway, on the same wall as the TV, a small hallway connected the living room, her bedroom, a tiny linen closet, the kitchen, the bathroom, and the door to the basement.

  Rachel turned left and briefly showed her room, the larger of the two bedrooms, before turning around. She opened the door between the living room arch and the bathroom to flick on the basement light, explaining we had plenty of room for storage and our own washer and drier.

  Doing a quick wave at the bathroom, opposite her room, she commented, “It’s small, but it could be worse.”

  I peeked at it and noted that, although the bathroom measured half the size of the one at Sam’s place, it didn’t feel cramped. The pedestal sink, tub and toilet abutted the wall shared with my bedroom. White tile covered the walls to about midway except for the shower area where the tiles ran from tub to ceiling. Dark blue paint coated the walls offsetting the overabundance of white. She’d also defused the white of the plastic shower curtain by layering a dark blue cloth shower curtain over it using a cute white flower clip to swag it to the side. Everything looked neat and clean.

  Finally, she led us to the kitchen. An addition to the kitchen, extending it five feet into the backyard, brought it from worthless to functional. Just inside the kitchen arch, to the right, a table for four abutted the interior wall. Beyond that, on the wall facing the driveway a counter supporting the sink ran from wall to wall, providing two cupboards on each side of the sink in addition to the two cupboards below the sink. Two separate wall cupboards hung on either side of the sink allowing light through the kitchens only window. The refrigerator stood to the left of the arched kitchen entry, along with four more cupboards top and bottom. Standing free the stove occupied the unclaimed space on the exterior wall. Just enough room separated the cabinetry from the stove to allow the bottom cabinet door to swing open. A garbage can hid between the stove and the door leading to the wooden deck and backyard.

  Overall, the exterior condition of the house didn’t match the inside. The exposed carpet in the living room looked worn but relatively stain-free. The walls and ceiling could use a fresh coat of paint, but with the string of switching roommates over the last five years, the landlord probably hadn’t had a chance.

  Rachel concluded the tour out on the back deck. “We’ll take turns mowing the lawn and shoveling the snow. The garage is only one car. To be fair, we’ll switch parking too, but we’ll work that out when it starts snowing.”

  I nodded in agreement looking at our small backyard. It reminded me of the Newton’s and I suffered an uncomfortable moment of longing before I clamped down on the feeling. A new looking barn-red wooden fence separated our backyard from the neighbor’s behind us, while evergreen hedges barred the rest of the yard from the neighbors on each side. With the deck and garage, there really wasn’t a lot of grass to mow in back, but the front yard made up for it a bit.

  During the tour, Sam remained quiet closely looking over the house, trailing behind us. Outside, he stood beside me studying the backyard as well. After a few moments of quiet, he sighed and said, “Well, Gabby, looks like you’ll be comfortable here. I’d better start heading back. You need anything, let me know.” He patted my cheek and stepped off the deck, neither of us good with drawn out good byes.

  I watched him climb into his truck and waved when he looked back. Again, my emotions ran amuck for a few moments as I watched him pull away, nostalgia robbing me of my moment. I’d been so ready to leave and start out on my own I’d not inspected my feelings for Sam too closely. Now I knew. I’d miss him a lot.

  Rachel seemed to understand and chatted as we went back into the house to settle me in.

  “You have a nice Grandpa,” she said sitting on my bed as I unpacked.

  I agreed, trying to shake the unhappiness I felt. Less than five hours ago, I looked forward to making my own rules. Here, in this house, I had the freedom I’d wanted. No more obligatory weekends in Canada. No meeting men I didn’t want to meet. My internal pep talk began to work and I started to unpack with more enthusiasm.

  Rachel took a few of the wire hangers from the closet and helped hang the t-shirts I’d crammed into a bag. “Please tell me there is more in these bags than t-shirts,” she said sitting on the bed again. “I don’t mind them, they’re comfy, but where’s the night out clothes?”

  “Um, I really don’t own any.” Watching her while I said it, I didn’t miss the shocked expression that briefly flitted over her features. I looked over my small pile of clothes, most of it already on hangers thanks to her help. It lacked diversity. I never noticed before.

  She changed the subject. “Got your bathing suit handy? With the backyard surrounded, the deck is perfect for working on a tan.” Without waiting for my answer, she popped up from the bed and said, “Join me when you’re done,” as she left the room.

  I finished unpacking and heard the back door a few minutes later. Bathing suit? I didn’t even own one.

  Tucking my suitcase under the bed, I put on the sheets from Sam. Instead of feeling sad, a new feeling bloomed. Resolve. I needed this… living here with Rachel, someone my own age. Well, close to it. And female. Normal things like lying out in the sun had escaped me over the years. She’d help me catch up. That she didn’t seem adversely affected by me gave me hope. Granted, she hadn’t yet faced rejection from a man because of me. Maybe we could work on becoming friends first. Who knew, it could help prevent the ugly hostility I’d grown accustomed too. I liked the idea of having a real friend. Sure, I had Paul and Henry, but I wanted a friend of the same gender.

  Unpacked and bed made, I changed into the shortest shorts I owned and a strapless top that Barb had given me for my eighteenth birthday. I’d kept in touch with my foster parents because of their insistence that I do. Even though they had a beautiful little girl of their own, they still thought of me, especially on my birthday. Feeling light at heart, I headed out to the deck.

  Rachel turned her sunglassed-gaze my way when I closed the screen door. “Where’s your suit?” she asked curiously.

  “I don’t own one,” I admitted, lying on my stomach on the cartoon beach towel she’d laid out for me. “Didn’t want to embarrass my grandpa. He’s a little old school.” I just hadn’t wanted him to suggest I bring it with to Canada.

  “Really? You don’t own one?” She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at me over her sunglasses, a wide smile on her lips. “Wanna go shopping? I’ll use any excuse to go.”

  I hesitated. If I declined, we’d be starting out on a poor note. If I said yes, we’d most likely have an issue with guys somewhere along the way. But if I didn’t say yes, how could I hope to win her over as a friend. Any normal girl probably wouldn’t even stop to think about this. I really wanted to try for normal. “Sure, let me go change,” I agreed.

  “Yay!” She jumped up, grabbing both towels and danced into the house behind me.

  Since she had the car, she drove us to the outlet mall promising it was the best and cheapest place to shop. Stunning in a tank top, short shorts and cute little sandals with a heel, she outshined my drab worn t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Twisting my fingers in my lap, I tried to quell my worry.

  “While we’re here, we should look for some clubbing clothes for you.” She pulled into an open space, parking the car. “And don’t be afraid to tell me if I’m being too pushy. I love shopping, but have too many clothes already. By shopping for someone else, I get my shopping fix without adding to the mayhem in my closet.”

  “No, you’re not being pushy. I could use a swimsuit and a few new tops. But, I have to be honest. I’m not really into the party scene. Guys act too weird around me and it makes me uncomfortable.”

  “Weird how?” she asked as she reached for the door.

  “Wait,” I said to stop her from leaving the car. I’d rather tell her where no one else would overhear.

  She paused, turning to look at me.

  I took a deep breath. Normal. I needed to sound normal. “Every friendship I’ve ever had was ruined by competition over a guy. Only problem was, I was never competing. I wasn’t interested in the guy, my friend was. But the guy was interested in me.”

  Behind her sunglasses, her eyes searched my face. I struggled not to squirm or look away. Anxiety bloomed. I should have kept my mouth shut.

  Her lips curved into an amused smile and she laughed. “You’re a serious one. I can see that already. Don’t worry Gabby. If a guy doesn’t trip over himself to get to me, I’m not interested. I don’t want to waste my time chasing what doesn’t want to be caught.” She opened the door to the sunbaked parking lot and I followed.

  We’d just crossed the black expanse, stepping onto the sidewalk in front of the outlets, when Rachel whispered to me, “Gabby, check out this hottie.”

  The man she spotted exited the same door we headed for. As I expected, he first looked at Rachel and then at me. I looked down keeping my eyes on the sidewalk as we strolled past him through the door.

  Rachel obviously didn’t know about the ‘wait for the door to close’ rule because she started laughing before I’d even made it over the threshold. “He kept his eyes on you the entire time,” she laughed. “I can’t wait to see what happens the first time we go out.”

  I wanted to groan.

  The clerk at the register looked over at us just then, because of her laughter. His double take at me caused her to start laughing even harder. I pulled her toward the back of the store before he could decide he wanted to talk to us.

  Her carefree attitude about it did bring a smile to my face. Maybe things would work out.

  After helping me pick out a swimsuit, a rather daring bikini that she insisted would not cause her the least bit of animosity no matter what attention it brought me, she talked me into a few more stores. In three hours, I purchased two “clubbing” tops and a black mini skirt. My careful spending slowed the process down a bit, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  Back at the house, the pleasantly warm breeze and inviting deck beckoned us and we decided to catch the dying rays out on the deck before calling it a night. I just wanted to try on my bikini.

  I shook my head at the sound of the back door opening and closing five minutes after being home. How she managed to change so fast amazed me.

  Putting my purchases away, I pulled the tags off the bikini. Pale from spending most of my summer working, Rachel had talked me into getting a bright pink number with vibrant yellow straps. Normally, I’d be reluctant to wear anything that called attention to me, but Rachel had been adamant that people our age didn’t wear one pieces with built in skirts, the style I’d deemed safe. The top with its strings and triangle coverage concerned me, but I’d given in because of the boy-shorts style bottom. When she’d held up a different option with even less material, I’d quickly judged the pink and yellow suit the safer option.

  I twisted and turned in front of the mirror in my bedroom, worrying. The string top covered me decently. The boy-shorts bottoms hugged my backside. A lot of skin reflected back at me. I did like the suit, just needed to get used to it.

  Grabbing the sunglasses I’d bought, I left my room puzzling over the sound of Rachel’s crooning voice. Was someone here? Did I want to go out there in this?

  I looked down at myself. Better to find out now, at home, if I could wear it in front of someone else than to go to a beach with it. I straightened my shoulders and walked out.

  “Gabby!” Rachel squealed when I pushed open the screen door, startling me.

  On the deck, Rachel reclined on her side stretched out on a beach towel. Between her towel and the one she’d set out for me lay a monster of a dog, relaxing in the sun.

  “Look, a dog!” she cried excitedly.

  At least seven feet from nose to tail, the dog’s shaggy brown coat gave it a wild look. Rachel didn’t seem to mind. She continued to pet its head affectionately. What was that thing? Although the size of a mastiff, it looked nothing like one. Hearing me, it turned its head, moving out of Rachel’s reach. Its soft brown eyes met mine.

  Rachel shifted to a sitting position to reach its head again and said, “It just walked up the porch steps and laid right down. I nearly peed myself. Have you ever seen a dog this big before? What kind do you think it is?” She continued to pet it lovingly.

  I remained glued in place, my stomach sinking. Any lingering homesickness left from watching Sam drive away died as my suspicion grew. What are the odds that an extremely large random dog just appears at my door scant hours after Sam dropped me off? Improbable odds. When I’d said I would get a dog, I’d meant it as a joke. I couldn’t afford a dog.

  She continued speaking not caring that I hadn’t answered her questions, “And you’re not going to believe what its tag says.” She reached around him digging in the thick shaggy fur around his neck until she found his tags and turned the collar so she could read, “‘If found, please provide a good home.’ Isn’t that funny?” She let go of the tags and ruffled his neck fur back into place. The dog continued to watch me not paying attention to Rachel’s ministrations.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled still furiously thinking. The size of the dog would ensure men didn’t bother me. But a dog half its size would do the same. Why get one so big? Its size compared to Sam in his fur. Did Sam think some of his kind might bother me? If so, I didn’t see how a plain old dog would help. Not a plain dog. My eyes widened as my own idiocy dawned on me.

  I needed to call Sam, find out what he’d been thinking, and then give him an earful for sending someone to keep an eye on me.

  About to turn and go back into the house, Rachel added, “His tag also said his name is Clay. What do you think? Should we keep him?”

  Chapter 6

  I turned to look at Rachel, eyes wide with shock. “What?” I croaked out, flicking a glance down at… him. He continued to watch me, his eyes not wavering from mine. He’d left me alone the whole summer. I’d thought he truly let me go, despite Sam’s ominous warning, and forgotten about him.

  “Aw,” Rachel pouted, “You aren’t allergic are you? The lease says a single pet is allowed as long as it’s licensed.”