Color Me a Crime (4 page)

When I painted my door red, the neighbors chuckled. “She’s young. Kids now-a-days, they don’t know what looks good.”

I roll my eyes and chalk it up to them being old. Thank God, Aunt Matilda isn’t like them. She loves it and even helps me decorate.

The whistling of Aunt Matilda’s truck catches my attention. I glance out the back window of the Toyota, and watch her pull in behind me and get out.

“What are you doing here?” I greet her with a big hug.

“You know exactly why I am here. An intervention.” Shaking her fist in the air makes the bells on her headscarf jingle like crazy. “You know that pairing the sex woman and that cowboy is nothing but a death trap. You have to stop this date
now
! I feel it in my bones.”

“Shh.” I put my finger up to my mouth and drag her along the cobblestone walkway and into the house. “You know we can’t be broadcasting who we are to the world. You have to keep your voice down.” I protest and kick a shoe out of the way of the door so we can at least walk into the house. “I can’t think of a better pairing. And he is far from a cowboy.”

In Buddy’s mind, he is the king of all men and wanted by all women.

“And this house! How do you expect to keep a man in a cluttered house like this?” Aunt Matilda is definitely on a roll this afternoon.

Herbie scratches at the back door. Poor guy hasn’t been out to pee since this morning. Normally, I don’t work that many hours at Color Me Love, but there are unusual amounts of clients recently. I blame it on not wanting to be alone for the upcoming holidays. Erin says business is up because people are hearing about how good the service is.

I walk into the kitchen, and open the back door into the fenced-in yard so Herbie can run around and do his business.

“Seriously.” I grab a few items of clothing lying in my path along the way back through the room to confront Aunt Matilda. “Are you actually mad at me?”

She pulls a stool up to the kitchen counter and runs her hands down her gypsy frock. “I read that woman’s palm and it isn’t going to be good.”

I ease myself next to her and listen. Aunt Matilda is beginning to scare me.

“Have you had any nightmares about that boy?” Her eyes bore into me. “You know I will know if you are lying.”

“I…umm…” I look out the window and watch a few of my neighbors taking an afternoon stroll.

“I knew it!”

I jump nearly out of my seat as Aunt Matilda’s hand smacks the counter top.

“And you are going to let this go on?” She demands.

“It’s just a nightmare. Nothing more. He is not going to show up dead.” A knot forms in my stomach.

“I knew I shouldn’t have moved out of here.” She shakes her head, showing me how disappointed she is in me. “I’m moving back in and there is nothing you can do about it.”

When I was younger and had my dreams, or what she called pictures, I would wake up with her standing over me taking notes on what I would say in my sleep. Since she thought it was important to take notes on what I said, when she would leave my room, I’d write down everything I could remember about my dream.

I have scads of journal entries on ramblings I don’t even understand.

Unfortunately, more times than not, real life situations have come fairly close to what happens in my dreams.

As a matter of fact, when I was little, Aunt Matilda worked undercover for Park City police. At one time, there were a slew of robberies. She would give me a clue about the crime and I would have a “dream” about it, leading her to more clues. She took the evidence I had “dreamed” about to the police and somehow they would solve the crime.

It wasn’t until I grew up that she decided she was ready to retire from the undercover work. Since then, she moved out and lives in a little house off Main Street in the middle of town.

Not to mention, she likes to keep her private life private since secretly dating Carl Lester, Park City’s police chief.

“Are you kidding me?” I assure her I don’t need another roommate. “Erin is roommate enough. Besides, if I thought for one second that I was in danger, or we were in danger, I’d tell you.”

“How are you going to make this right?” She leans in on her elbows and patiently waits for my answer. “This little
sexcapade
pairing?”

“I’m going to let them go out, and then I’m going to erase him
and her
from our database and our life.” It isn’t much of a plan, but nonetheless, it is a plan. It keeps everyone happy.

Rainbow Bright…er…Felicia gets a date, Buddy gets a date with the woman of his dreams, Erin did her job and we can all wipe our hands clean of it.

“You better hope your plan works.” Aunt Matilda stands up and walks over to the door to let a scratching Herbie back in. She turns, her eyelashes casting a dark shadow down her face. “Because I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“Come on, Herbie.” I jump off my stool and skip over to the pantry to get a scoop of food out for him. “I’ve got a few more dumps to do before my date with Joel. Are you hanging around for a while?”

“No. I have to get going. I’m heading over to the Senior Citizens Lodge for a night of karaoke. La, la, la.” She throws her head back and acts like she is warming up.

“Knock ‘em dead.” I squeeze her tight. “And I don’t mean literally.”’

Aunt Matilda is known for being a little spitfire, only I’m always the one getting her out of trouble.

“I won’t.” She saunters out of the front door. “I hope you know what you are doing.” She warns before I shut the door behind her.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m going to give it a good try for everyone involved.” I tell Herbie as if he understands every word I say. He follows me into my cozy office that sits in the back of my cottage house, off the kitchen.

I wanted my office to be homey since I would be spending a lot of time in here. I found the coolest farm table that someone had painted white, along with some white bookshelves, on the side of a country road just north of town. I took my Aunt Matilda’s truck and hauled it off. It fit perfectly in the room. I cleaned it all up and added baskets to the shelves to make it cozy. I even added a pink rug and pink curtains.

I felt like I hit the jackpot when I went back to the same farmhouse a couple weeks later to find a wicker chaise lounge and crystal chandelier. That time I called my aunt to come and get it because I wasn’t in her truck and I didn’t want someone else coming by to pick up
my
treasure.

I did have to purchase the cushion for the chaise, but the room is entirely perfect and goes with the rest of my cottage style home.

Regardless, I love it.

“Are you ready, boy?” Herbie jumps up on the chaise, ready to listen to me break a couple of hearts before I have to get ready for the big hoedown.

I flip my laptop on and dig into my Splitsville.com file. The next dump is between Andrea and Jim.

Andrea is dumping Jim because he thinks he is a modern day Eminem. And let me tell you, she is right!

“Oh, brother.” I groan as his picture downloads.

Poor Jim is sporting a baseball cap with the bill to the side, pants down to his knees, shoe laces all undone, and his hands crossed in some type of gang sign.

“This should be good,” I tell Herbie and prepare myself for what lies ahead.

“Yo.” Jim answers the phone.

“Is Jim there?” I have to ask for him even though I can tell that
this
is Jim.

“Yeah, yeah. This be him. Who this?” he sputters in the phone.

Rolling my eyes, I tell him who I am. “I’m Jenn from Splitsville.com and I’m calling for Andrea. She is breaking up with you”

“Who this be?” Jim questions.

“This is Jenn from Splitsville.com and Andrea has hired me to break up with you.” I click on the PayPal link to make sure that Andrea paid for my fabulous service.

“Yo, Drea’ is a fly bitch.” He claims his love so well.

“Drea? Did you say Drea?” I want to make sure we are talking about the same woman. “Do you mean Andrea?”

“Yo.”

Sigh
. . .

“Really, are you a doctor by day and rapper by night?” I read down Andrea’s file how she met him at a convention. She is a drug representative and he is a doctor.

“Yo. I is.”

“And why in the hell do you act like a rapper when you obviously have scads of money?” There is a big mansion behind him in the photo. Andrea claims in her message that is his house.

“What’s this got to do with my fly bitch?” Jim protests. “What up with this?”

“I’ll tell you what up with this; Andrea is dumping you because she didn’t sign up to date a man with multiple personality disorder. Especially one who thinks he lives in the hood when he really lives in the richest suburb in your area. That is what’s up my doctor!” I yell into the phone.

I bet his parents are real proud.

“Drea is dumpin’ me?” He scoffs like I’m joking.

“Check it out. Yo, she’s dumping you.” I put my earpiece in my ear and start to clean up around the house. “She says that you are Casper the Ghost, not MC Hammer and you need to pull your pants up and put on a belt.”

“A’ight. A’ight. This is a joke, right?” He laughs, “Besides, Drea knows I don’t like wearin’ a belt because it’s pains me.”

“Falling on the ground and breaking your leg is really going to pain you if you don’t pull them damn pants up!” I start doing my best imitation of General Larry Platt from American Idol. “
Lookin’ like a fool with your pants on the ground!”

“It’s the style.”

“What would your patients have to say about this? Do you think that they would want a wannbe rapper to take care of them?” I know I would run in the opposite direction.

“A’ight.”

Sometimes I wish I could put my hands through the phone and choke half these people out of their misery, and this is one of those times. I would claim that it is in the best interest of his patients.

“Doctor, it is not a joke. Your fly bitch has flown away.” I go in for the kill. “Do you understand that Andrea is breaking up with you?”

“No, I’m a gangsta and she’s my fly bitch.” Jim does a little beat boxing in the phone.

“No, you are a doctor not a gangster.” I correct him. “Andrea is breaking. . .”

“Yo, you gotta leave the ‘er’ off. It’s gangsta.” He corrects me.

“I don’t give a shit what it is, Dr. Jim. And neither does Andrea. She is dumping your rappin’ ass. Do you understand?”

“Word.”

“Word what?” I ask.

“A’ight.” He slams down the phone.

I quickly type an email to Drea…Andrea to let her know I dumped Casper the Ghost.

Chapter Six

After a another dump that involved Beth dumping Ryan because he farts all the time, no matter where he is, I slip on my cuffed skinny Capri jeans, plaid shirt, with my hair hanging down in a loose braid, I put on my cowboy boots and I am ready to go.

“Come on.” I open the back door to let Herbie out before Joel gets here. “What?”

Herbie tilts his head to the side looking at me with a strange look on his face.

“I know,” I plant my hand on my hip. “I’m trying too hard, aren’t I?”

What do you wear to a hoedown? I have no idea. The one and only time I went to Heifer’s and Ho’s was on the blind date with Orange Buddy. Erin had given him my alias, Jenn, so technically I’ve never been there as Olivia.

And I certainly didn’t dress this way that time and everyone deserves a second chance. Right?

“When in Rome.” I open the door and sweep my hand in front of me. “Now go pee.”

Argh, argh.
Herbie runs out, apparently understanding everything I say to him.

“Whoa!” Joel lets himself in the back gate and Herbie runs over, jumping on him. “Hey, Herbie.”

Herbie does his happy dance and wags his little nub of a tail.

Jealous.

Deep down I wish I could run over and have Joel rub me. I’m sure my butt would wag too.

“I heard him barking, so I thought you might be back here. I know how much you love him.” He walks over; his blue aura trails closely behind. I try to zero in on his sparkling green eyes so I won’t faint. The lines on the edge of his eyes appear as the smile crosses his face. “You look like you are ready for the hoedown.”

“I’m ready.” I do my best little do-se-do. “I’ll be right back.”

He follows on my heels.

Crap.
There is no way I want him to follow me into the house. The clothes I had picked up earlier were just moved to another spot.

“Can you watch Herbie while I go in to get my bag?” I slip into the back door before he can answer, and make a silent promise to myself to really work harder at keeping my house from being so cluttered.

The last thing I want him to do is stage an intervention on that show Hoarders. Listen, I’m busy breaking hearts and healing hearts. That seems like better use of my time then cleaning.

Luckily, my bag is sitting on the counter. I grab it and open the door just enough for Herbie to rush in.

“Be good.” I bend down and scratch Herbie behind the ears. “I promise I will take you for a long walk tomorrow morning.”

I live for Saturday. Even though I have a day full of dumps, I know I will enjoy my weekly home-cooked meal with Aunt Matilda, Erin, and best guy-friend Michael.

“I’m ready.” I shut the back door behind me and lock it.

“Great.” Joel extends his hand for me to take it. He peers at me intently. “Aunt Jill is going to be happy to see you. She wants you to help her make the banana nut bread.”

“Absolutely.” I smile and remember the good time I had with his aunt the day I fainted at Heifers and Ho’s.

When I came to, I could smell banana nut bread, which is one of Aunt Matilda’s specialties. I wasn’t in any shape to immediately drive home, so I went into the kitchen with Jill to watch her cook for all the customers that were staying at the dude ranch.

I had told her about Aunt Matilda’s amazing secret ingredient, nutmeg, and Jill let me make the bread with the secret ingredient. I had never made bread in that quantity before, but the customers devoured it.

“How was work?” Joel asks, and reaches over to hold my hand while he drives.