Crystal Lies - Melody Carlson [30]
I’m sure my face looked alarmed. “Rejected?” I asked in a mousy voice. “Really? Are you sure?”
“You want me to run it again?”
I glanced at the impatient customers waiting behind me, then fumbled through my billfold for cash. “No, no,” I told her. “I’ve got it.”
I felt a gnawing deep inside me as I handed her several twenties. It was already beginning.
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes looked surprisingly kind as she handed me my change. “They usually stop the cards right away.”
I sighed. “I guess I should’ve known it was coming.”
She nodded to my bouquet still lying on the counter. “Don’t forget those.”
“Thanks.” I picked it up and set it on top of a bag. She smiled. “Well, hang in there.”
Despite my sinking heart over the cancelled debit card, I felt like I’d accomplished something as I walked across the parking lot toward the Range Rover. Oh, I knew all I’d really done was bag my own groceries, but it was a start. Besides, I knew I still had my savings account, in my name only. I wasn’t broke yet. And I didn’t want to live off of Geoffrey anyway. Not if he wanted to be stingy. Somehow I would get through this. And, I told myself, Jacob was coming home!
Jacob’s car was nowhere to be seen when I parked in space number thirty-six at the apartment. When I got upstairs, I noticed my note was exactly where I’d left it. So I began putting the groceries away, taking my time and rearranging a few things along the way. I felt pleased at how my little apartment was beginning to function like an actual, albeit rather tiny, home. In some ways it seemed like I was a little girl again, playing house. Not a bad feeling really. I even considered baking something, since I always thought the smell of baking made a place feel homier. But it was turning into another sweltering end-of-summer day, and without air conditioning I figured I’d better not add any heat to my second-floor dwelling.
After the food was put away and I’d snipped the bottoms of the flowers and temporarily stuck them into a juice pitcher, I fixed myself a late lunch and sat down at the narrow breakfast bar on a new pine barstool. (I’d purchased a pair of them for only $19.99 each.) There I quietly ate and watched out the window as cars zipped past on the busy street down below. I suspected that most of the minivans contained moms and kids doing their back-to-school shopping. I’d always loved doing that with Sarah and Jacob. Especially when the kids were smaller and we’d stock up on things like Crayola crayons, number-two pencils, bright plastic lunch-boxes, and rain parkas. The older they got, the less fun and more expensive it became. But I still got a thrill seeing them with a new backpack or the latest thing in shoes. And whether they would admit it or not, I think they enjoyed it too. Well, except for Jacob in his last year at high school—I don’t think he wanted anything last year. Another sign that he was becoming someone else.
I glanced at the kitchen clock—only $6.99, who knew?—and if my inexpensive clock was correct it was after four o’clock. My new bed had finally been delivered yesterday afternoon, and although I’d moved up from the floor to the futon in Jacobs room during the previous nights, I was still feeling sleep deprived and exhausted. So I decided to take a short nap, just until Jacob got here, which I felt would be any minute. I left my front door unlocked just in case I didn’t hear him knocking, knowing that would be nearly impossible in such a small apartment. But I was taking no chances.
When I woke up, it was nearly eight thirty, and as far as I could tell, Jacob hadn’t been there yet. Instead of turning on the lights, I decided to light some of the candles I’d confiscated from my previous home. Geoffrey had told me we shouldn’t be lighting candles after he read an article on how the candle smoke can leave a thin coating of soot on the walls and furnishings, although I’d never seen that happen myself. Still, I continued to light candles when Geoffrey was working late or gone for a weekend conference.