Lessons In Being A Flapper (24 page)

BOOK: Lessons In Being A Flapper
7.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“I’m not…with someone else. I made that up to protect myself. I mean, I did meet this guy Noah and he did give me his number but I threw it away. I only told Bayani I was seeing someone because I wanted him to miss me like I missed him.” I shake my head.  I can’t believe I let it come to this point. We had so much in front of us and I let one little thing ruin it all. Even though he knew he was innocent he still didn’t share Sophie’s secret. That alone told me so much about his character. He was one of a kind.

“You don’t happen to know where he went do you?” I asked.

“No, sorry. He hasn’t spoken a word to me since that night.”

I felt bad for Sophie, I really did. She may seem to have it all but from what I had come to understand her parents weren’t around, she was caring for her sick brother and she wanted the one man who didn’t want her.

“How is your brother now? Is he OK?”

“God. I can’t even believe you’re asking me that! I just told you I purposely ruined your relationship and you’re asking me how my brother is. You and Bayani are a match made in heaven…but he’s fine. Thanks for asking.”

We talked for a little while longer and I realized that underneath all the makeup and clothes, Sophie really was a genuinely nice person. She just had to keep up the façade at work so that those working under her didn’t dare step on her feet. I understood that to an extent but I wished that she would show her vulnerable side more often. Just not to my boyfriend. Sorry, sorry. I mean
ex-boyfriend.

When Sophie left to go get ready for the workday, I had breakfast with Marisol – luckily there were no Thanksgiving pies o
n the table today! – and we talked about the Valentine’s Day Ball and how it was coming along nicely. Pretty soon I’d have the decorations I custom-ordered and I planned on attending bingo again this week to get some ideas for what the seniors in the area might like to see or experience.

“Autumn dear, we need to have a chat about a few more serious subjects, I’m afraid,” Marisol said suddenly. I was sensing there was some not so good news coming my way.

“First off, I know you want to find out more about those ghosts that have been haunting you for years and I’ve been given some information by your grandfather,” she said, sliding a piece of paper across the table towards me. There were a bunch of numbers on it, but none of them made any sense to me.

“What are these?”

“They’re reference numbers. He said for you to go back to the library and ask the librarian to look up those numbers. He thinks there will be something of interest there for you. Always digging, that old man of yours.”

I smiled to myself because I knew my grandfather was a history buff. He loved the stuff and kept an entire library in the house full of history books and maps. Finding out the history of our house was probably right up his alley.

“Thanks. I’ll check this out later today.”

It was about time that I left so Marisol could rest.
Her nurse would be coming soon and after that I was sure she’d want to sleep. She was home and doing better but in my opinion she looked rather weak and still had trouble breathing when she walked. I didn’t want to tire her out too much by hanging around chit chatting. Before I left, I had one last question that had been lingering on my mind for a while now.

“Marisol, do you know where Bayani went?”

“Of course dear. That silly palooka went off to Australia to “find himself” whatever that is supposed to mean. Sounds like a dumkuff mission if you ask me, but the brokenhearted will go to extremes to find peace, I suppose.”

 

 

I
headed straight over to the library after leaving Marisol’s house. Clara was asleep in her plush bed, Marisol was going to take a nap and I was going to find out what kind of information my grandfather had found out about the past.

Holding on to the list of reference numbers for dear life I headed over to the same librarian who had helped me last time, hoping that’d she be able to make sense of the jumbled up digits on the paper.

“Hi, I’m not sure if you remember me but I was in here in November looking up the Bridgewater Triangle and I was wondering if you could help me find these books,” I said, showing her the scrap of paper with Marisol’s almost illegible handwriting.

“Let me look them up for you. It’ll just take a few minutes.” I thanked her and sat down in the chair near the newspapers. I might as well look like I’m doing something rather than standing around aimlessly like a stalker. People might think I was creepy if I did that. Which I’m not, obviously.

“Well, I’ve looked up all the numbers and the top three came up with matches, which I’ve pulled for you. But the bottom number isn’t a number of any books we have here. In all honesty, it looks more like a bank account number,” the librarian said as she returned the paper to me for verification. She was right, it did look slightly out of place. I’d have to ask Marisol about that later on.

I took the books offered to me and sat down at a nearby table. I loved how libraries have you space to read and look over things without being distracted. It was such a nice feeling to know that I could look at these books in peace and hopefully find what I was looking for.

I scanned through the pages looking for the page number written on the paper. The first two books didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know but the third gave me a host of new information.

Apparently there
was
a Native American gravesite on the exact location where my street now stood. I knew it! There was also a lot of animosity between the Natives and the settlers who came and took the land in the land 1700’s. Since then it had been bought and sold multiple times, until it was used for development around 1900. That would make sense. My great-grandfather built our home around that time. Everything was starting to fall into place and I had the feeling that unless my mother sold that house or gave it to the Native American trust, neither of us would ever find any peace.

I thanked the librarian and then stopped to purchase a new cell phone. I had to have one and regretted my earlier outburst in whi
ch the really expensive and sleek phone I had loved smashed to smithereens. Once I was able to activate my phone I called my mother and filled her in on all the details. She said she’d consider it but didn’t say for sure that she would leave. She wasn’t one to move far away and had suffered with anxiety her entire life. Traveling for her was a major issue. I was so shocked that she came to visit me once as I knew how difficult it was for her to go out into the unknown.

After hanging up, I figured I should go back and check on Marisol. I had been gone for a few hours now and was curious as to what the fourth number on the paper was for. Luckily, I had a key in case she was still asleep.

Of course, being Marisol, she couldn’t stay down for long. When I entered she was up and dusting around the fireplace where she had her photos and other little trinkets. I was shocked to find out that she had gone and cut wood for the fireplace herself before I met her. She apparently felt as though there was no one else to do it, though she did acknowledge that she was getting too old to do so much physical work.

“Maris
ol, do you know what the fourth number on this paper is for?” I asked, pointing to the number which was about 5 digits shorter than the rest and didn’t start with REF.

“Yes, I do. But first let’s talk about what you found. I’m interested to know if you came across anything of value in your search.”

“I did. I found quite a bit actually,” I said, telling her about the Natives and how the house was on a bad spot.

“I knew it had to be something like that. Now that you’ve left there you should be OK but your mother needs to leave too for the spirits to fully be gone.”

“I know. I called her already.”

“Glad you’re one step ahead of me, toots.” I smiled at her and then asked her to tell me what the other number was for so I could stop worrying.

“My dear, that number is for a bank account. I didn’t tell you earlier because I didn’t want to disrupt your search at the library but your beloved grandfather said that many years ago, just after you were born, he started a trust fund for you and never told a single sole. He was going to tell you himself but as you know…well, he went off for the Big Sleep a little earlier than expected.”

“So why is he giving it to me now then?”

“Because he knows what an awful mistake you’ve made with Bayani and he wants to you make it right.”

“And how will the numbers of a bank account make it right?” I inquired, wondering where this was going.

“There’s a substantial sum of money in that account that you can now access. Maybe you should use it for a trip to Australia or –“

“Wait! You’re telling me to go chase Bayani down in AUSTRALIA?”

“Well, it’s up to you of course, my dear, but yes that’s what we would like to see happen.”

“I wouldn’t even know how to find him! I’ve never been to Australia…I could get lost in the outback and no one would even know I was missing!”

Marisol tutted at me before continuing. “Chickadee, have you learned nothing from all the Flapper lessons you’ve had? A Flapper would go to great lengths to be with her man. She was a strong, independent woman and it’s about time you became one too!”

I could feel a twenties laced tirade coming my way any minute now…

“Don’t you go being a barlow! That boy is the Ducks Quack and you are being nothing more than a dumbdora! Go after him before it’s too late!”

“But I…I don’t even know where to start!”

“Jesus, do I have to do everything around here? I’ve got his address in Australia right here.” To prove her point she pulled out a piece of paper written in Bayani’s perfect script. She pushed it into my hand and told me to get my act together or risk losing him forever.

“But what about the Valentine’s Day Ball? I’m in the middle of ordering the flowers!”

“Oh the hell with it! This is much more important and I’m sure Dora, Nora , Kora and the rest of those old fuddies would agree!”

“So…I’m going to Australia then.”
I said, burying my face in my hands and sighing at the thought. I just got back from one trip and I wasn’t exactly ready to take another.

“Yes. You are and don’t come back unless you’ve done all you could to make him come home to you.”

 

 

I
booked my trip the following morning after calling my friend, Marcio, who had been grooming Clara since I got her. He recently opened a doggy daycare and I thought it would be better if I took Clara to him instead of dumping her on Jeanette and her designer shoes again.

I also went to the bank that my grandfather had the account at and was shocked to find it contained more than enough money to hold me over until I found a new job. It could also cover my travel expenses and then some. I couldn’t believe I never knew about this sooner, although it did seem to come at the right time!

My flight was due to depart tomorrow afternoon and if I played my cards right I would be back well within a few days so I could still help Marisol plan the Valentine’s Day Ball. I just hoped Bayani would see me and that he was still staying at the same place. I had a fourteen hour flight ahead of me to think of all that could go wrong and I was sure that I’d spend it doing just that.

I really couldn’t believe that I was going to Australia. I felt like I was literally going to the ends of the earth to win Bayani back and yet I didn’t know if it would be enough
. I should have listened to him. I should have let him explain. Instead, I let my head get in the way of my heart and ended up losing him entirely. What would I do when I saw him? Would I run into his open arms or would he shun me and tell me I was foolish for chasing him when he had already given me all he had?

No matter how I looked at it – whether he said he didn’t want to be with
me or he did – I had to at least try. Marisol was right. I wasn’t a true Flapper. I may love the 1920s but those women were different. They wouldn’t have let one phone call ruin something so special.

I boarded my plane at 2 o’clock in the af
ternoon and cozied in for a fourteen hour flight. I had brought my iPad, a few books and crossword puzzles to keep me busy. I had never been on such a long flight and found myself a little nervous at the thought. Being in the air that long in an enclosed cabin was kind of claustrophobic, wasn’t it? I mean what if I wanted to get off mid-flight? I couldn’t, could I? Not exactly calming thoughts for the anxious traveler. I looked at the paper in my hand. Bayani’s handwriting told me exactly where to go and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was giving me a message through Marisol. He must have known I’d ask her where he went. Hopefully, he’d be waiting for me when I landed Down Under in fourteen long hours.

Chapter Thirteen

H
aving never been on a flight across the ocean and to another continent, I’ve never had the extreme pleasure of suffering from jet lag. A lot of people I knew talked about it but I never really thought it could be
that
bad. Apparently I was dead wrong. It was
that
bad.

When I landed in Sydney, Australia, I first noticed how sunny and bright it was. I then noticed the heat. Even though it was winter back home and San Francisco was mild compared to the rest of the nation, the heat here was so much worse. It was summer though so I don’t really know what I was expecting. Snow? Torrential rains? I should have packed better. I didn’t think to pull out my short sleeved tops and shorts. I instead packed light cotton shirts with long sleeves some dresses which I would no doubt sweat in and a few pairs of jeans. Nothing at all that would keep me cool in this heat!

BOOK: Lessons In Being A Flapper
7.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Dance With Me by Heidi Cullinan
Summerset Abbey by T. J. Brown
Evelyn Vine Be Mine by Chelle Mitchiter
Maybe in Another Life by Taylor Jenkins Reid
Giving Up the Ghost by Marilyn Levinson
Dead People by Ewart Hutton
The Mask That Sang by Susan Currie