Totaled (11 page)

I was sitting on the steps of the walkway leading to the front door, my truck in the driveway, when a candy apple red four door sedan pulled in behind my Tahoe. A thirty-something stick thin woman emerged from the vehicle wearing a navy blue business suit with a way too short skirt. Her body was nice enough if you liked women with zero muscle tone. Her hair was platinum blonde and obviously sprayed with half a can of hairspray and she had enough makeup on to be a wax figure.

“Well, hi there. I’m Brandy,” she said, reaching her acrylic-nailed hand out to shake mine. “We spoke on the phone.”

“Yes. Nice to meet you. I’d really like to take a look inside if possible,” I said, not wanting to waste any time.

“Sure thing. Are you okay? What happened to your face?” she asked, looking at me like I was some sort of scary criminal. I couldn’t blame her.

“Oh, nothing. I’m fine. I’d be better if this rental works out,” I replied dismissively, disinterested in small talk.

She scooted around me, jingling keys, and started climbing the stairs with a little bit too much unnecessary shake of her ass. Unlocking the lock box, she told me that the owners live in upstate New York and have always used the property as a vacation home, but the husband took ill recently so they hired her real estate agency to lease the house out for the summer. Most of the houses had already been secured for summer rentals, and this was a late addition to their roll, so she assured me that it was a lot of house for a very good price.

I didn’t care. I took five steps in and knew I had to have it. The decor was neutral, with simple furniture, but the view was immaculate. It was breathtaking. The panoramic sliding glass windows that stretched from wall to wall were amazing. I quickly walked around, finding the master bedroom to have a king-size bed and the same type of window for a wall facing the ocean. The master bathroom had a clear glass shower stall, a private shitter, and a soaking tub with jets that looked like Shaq could fit in it comfortably.

“Where do I sign?” I asked Brandy, interrupting her in mid-sentence as she rambled on and on about all of the amenities that the house offered.

Caught off guard, she sputtered, “Uh…um, excuse me? Don’t you want to see the whole place? Don’t you want to know how much it costs?”

“Nope. Where do I sign?” I replied immediately and seriously.

She smiled and hesitated with a response. “This is a four bedroom, two and half bath, fully-furnished, oceanfront house with a three month minimum lease. It’s perfect for…well, for a family. I see no ring on your finger. Is it just you that will be staying here?” she asked, twirling a strand of her stringy blonde hair in her fingers.

Here we go.

Turning on a little bit of charm, I smiled and stepped a little closer to her. “It is just me. No family. No significant other. The cost doesn’t matter. And I need to move in today,” I said, reaching up to tuck the strand of hair that she was just twirling behind her ear.

She bit her lower lip and took a deep breath in. I could see a hint of curiosity in her expression, wondering how a beat up looking, early twenties, single guy had enough money to be able to make that claim, but she didn’t ask anything further. With a wry, challenging smile, she spoke. “The house is $6,250 a month.”

“I’ll pay the full amount of the three month lease today in cash, plus an extra $3,000 if I can move in immediately.”

With wide eyes and a devious grin, she reached her right hand out in front of her, ready to shake. “You have yourself a deal.”

I followed her back to her office, sat through a credit check, signed paperwork, and forfeited the cash we agreed upon. She gave me a folder of the signed lease agreement, a bunch of information about the property and numbers to call if I should run into any problems, including her personal cell phone. With keys in hand, I made my way back to the house that I would now call home, at least for the summer.

***

BREE

After I’d sat on the beach for a few hours and cleared my head, I figured it was time to go back to the gym and save face. Luckily, it was a beautiful overcast day and I’d found a visor in the back seat. Otherwise, I would’ve been burnt to a crisp by then. When I climbed back into my car, I turned my cell phone back on and was greeted with seven new voicemails and three text messages. All seven voicemails were left by a number at the gym, sure to be my lunatic father cursing me out. Two texts were from Sue and one was from Liam. Before backing my car into reverse, I read the text messages, replying immediately to get them both off my back.

Liam: Where are you Bree? I’m worried. Please call us.

Me: I’m fine. Just needed some space. I’m on my way back now

Sue: Where r u? They said u had an “incident” @ the gym and took off. WTH?!?!

Sue: Hellooooooo? Call me NOW! You are freaking me out.

Me: Sorry. Just now getting these. I’ve been off the grid for a while. I’ll call you later.

About twelve seconds after my text sent, the phone started ringing. It was Sue.

“Hello?”

“Oh, the hell you will! Call me later? Don’t try that shit with me! What’s going on with you, Bree?” she asked, her tone chastising and snapping.

“I’ve just had a rough day. I’ll be happy to tell you all about it later tonight over a glass of wine, but right now I’ve got to get back to the gym.” I didn’t intend to be so dismissive, but I was just so…over it.

“Are you okay? No one will tell me anything. I know you physically assaulted someone, the cops were called, and you cussed out your Dad, but other than that, I’m getting nowhere,” she pleaded, sounding less demanding and more concerned.

“Well, most of that is inaccurate, so you should probably just stop asking around and hear it directly from me later tonight.” I knew she’d received her limited information from the guys at the gym, who were sometimes worse than a bunch of gossipy teenagers. “How was your date?”

“Way to change the subject. It wasn’t a date. It was just lunch. Only Adam came and he was wearing skinny jeans, so I won’t be having another lunch with him anytime soon. It’s just mind bottling how any man can think skinny jeans look good on him.”

“Boggling!”

“What?”

“It’s mind boggling, not bottling.”
It never gets old.

“Whatever.”

“Anyway, I can’t wait to hear about it all later.”

***

When I walked into the gym, all activity ceased, the room got quiet, and everyone turned to stare at me. I tried to ignore it all and walked directly back to the office. I planned on just hiding out in there until my father came in at the end of the day. It was already after five, so it wouldn’t be long. It took all of five minutes for him to walk in, shut the door, and sit down in a chair across the desk from me. The energy in the room was tense and he was obviously waiting on me to start talking, so I did.

“Look, Dad. I owe you an apology for earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that and I’m sorry that I disrespected you. Please for—”

“Oh, would you just shut up?” he said, interrupting me mid-sentence.

“Excuse me?” I questioned.

“Brianne Abigail Murphy, you are my baby girl. You are my heart. I was scared half to death, goddammit. I woke up to those calls saying someone had broken in and that you were here. I didn’t know if you were hurt or dead. I didn’t mean to yell at you straight away. And then you just stormed out of here with no word where you were running off to. You can’t do that to me. I worried myself into a damned ulcer,” he said, trailing off. I could tell that his blood pressure was rising by the pinkness in his cheeks. They were turning more fiery red every second.

I could see now that his outburst at me earlier was just his messed up way of coping with how worried he actually was, and it made me feel guilty for reacting the way that I did. He asked me what happened and I told him my account of everything as I remembered it. He was surprised and proud. I was embarrassed and exhausted. We sat there for a while, just talking, really talking for once. I actually felt myself being heard. Finally my dad leaned away and looked me in the eyes, a troubled expression on his face.

“Bree, are you happy?” he asked softly.

“What? What do you mean?” I responded, caught off guard.

“Are you happy? Here? With me and Liam? With your life? Are you happy? All I ever want for you is to be happy and you just seem so, I don’t know, off lately,” he confessed.

“I’m actually surprised you even noticed,” I said, sounding unintentionally rude. “It’s not that I’m unhappy. I’m just maybe not as happy as I could be.” I looked down, almost regretting even having said that. I should be appreciative for what I’m blessed to have.

“You know you can talk to me, Bree. You can always talk to me,” he assured me, hope in his eyes.

“I just recently have been feeling overwhelmed,” I admitted. “The gym, Liam, you, cooking, cleaning…it’s just a lot. I don’t ever feel like I have time to be a normal twenty-two-year-old girl. I feel guilty when I want a day off. Ever since Mom died, I’ve just been expected to do all of it and I’m worn out,” I revealed, looking down at my hands.
I can’t believe I just said that
. “I love you and of course I love Liam, and living with you guys, but I don’t love having to fill the wife and mom role all the time when I’m the sister, the daughter. It gets old. And the gym. It’s our family business, our livelihood, and I enjoy working here. But it isn’t my passion.”

In through your nose, out through your mouth. Just breathe,
I tried to tell myself as my father sat, silently processing what I’d just unloaded on him.

“What is your passion? What do you want to be doing?” he asked sincerely.

“You really want to know?” I questioned, doubt lacing my voice.

“Yes. Bree, I want you to talk to me.”

I looked up from starring at my fidgeting hands underneath the desk to make eye contact with him. My father was looking at me, really looking at me, waiting for a response. I had never seen this expression on his face before and it caught me off guard. He looked hopeful, sincere, and genuine. He wanted to know me.

“Okay. Just promise me that you won’t get mad and start yelling at me.”

“Jesus Christ, is that what you think of me?” He sneered as he threw his hands up in defeat, reclining back in his chair. “Just tell me.”

Great. Now I’ve offended him. And just as he’s finally offering a chance to open up to him.

“Okay,” I started, taking on last deep breath. “I’ve actually been talking some college courses online. In fact, I have enough credits to already be considered a sophomore. I’m sorry I kept it from you. I was just scared.”

His eyebrows rose and his posture corrected as the shock set in. “Are you serious? How? When do you do this? How are you paying for it? What are you going to graduate in or major in or whatever?” he rambled, firing one question after another at me, surprise and disbelief written all over his face.

Now he was offended for me NOT asking him for money?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down. I’ve been saving money for a while now,” I explained. “Living at home, I don’t have many bills. And I study when I can and take my course tests online when they’re scheduled or late at night. It’s becoming harder and harder to fit it all in, though. I’m feeling stretched a little too thin lately, which I guess is why I’ve been a little short fused. I’m sorry, but it’s stressful working a full time job, going to school, and being a homemaker so to speak. This is what I really want, though, a career that I choose for myself,” I said firmly.

“What do you want to be? When you’re done, what will you do?”

“I want to be a special education teacher. I want to teach kids like Liam, with learning disabilities or special needs. I’ve never liked doing something as much as when I got to homeschool Liam for those few years. Just seeing his face light up when he finally understood something, and seeing my patience and determination result in his happiness and accomplishment—that was it for me. That’s what I should be doing.”

He didn’t say anything. He just smiled and rose from his chair to walk around the desk, grabbing me up into a tight bear hug. He told me that he couldn’t imagine a more perfect career for me and that he would support me one hundred percent, including financially. He wanted me to still help out at the gym, but only on a part time basis whenever it fit in with my school schedule. He insisted that we have a “family meeting” to discuss how he and Liam could help out more around the house with cooking and cleaning so that all of the burden wouldn’t fall on me.

I couldn’t believe the conversation was actually happening, and without anger or raised voices. My father was being understanding and agreeable. I truly felt, in that moment, that he loved and appreciated me and just wanted for me to be happy. I believed him and I felt like it really was going to change. I was hopeful that my life was about to finally begin, and my story would continue only as
I
wrote the pages. Not someone else.

Chapter Twelve

DREW

Feeling chilly from the breeze that the ceiling fan was blowing over my body, I searched for the covers with my feet. I continued to search with my arms and hands, feeling around, not wanting to open my eyes yet. Nothing. I finally barely opened my eyes into slits to find myself sprawled out in the center of my new bed with no sheet or blanket to be found. Apparently I had kicked them all to the floor at some point during the night. I didn’t remember having any nightmares, in fact, I felt relaxed and well-rested. I sat up, stretched my arms above my head, and turned my head left. Smiling ear to ear was the only appropriate response for the sight that greeted me. The ocean was right there before my eyes, saying good morning, infusing an instant feeling of calm and contentment into my body. I was extremely happy to wake up this way.