Lessons In Being A Flapper (7 page)

BOOK: Lessons In Being A Flapper
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My dearest Autumn,

I came by this morning to wish you good luck, but it seems I had already missed you. I hope that your day went better than expected and that your new boss was kind to you. I also hope that my little present will make your day complete when you arrive home.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since last night. Kissing you and then leaving was the hardest thing I’ve had to do. I wanted so badly to spend more time with you and sit and talk for hours but I knew that wasn’t possible since we both had big days today.

I know I should have told you last night, but things weren’t finalized yet. I’ve had to go overseas for a business trip and I’ll be gone a week at the most. Please know I’ll be thinking of you every minute of every day.

I hope that I can see you when I return but until then I want you to have this very special present because I know you’ll love it and it will remind you of me while I’m gone.

Forgive me if I’m moving
too fast, but you’re all I think about since our fateful encounter.

I know you can’t call me to tell me you’re OK but I would love it if you sent me an email, at least, to tell me how you feel and how your day went.

With love,

Bayani x

I was so thrilled by the letter – which had to be the most romantic one I had ever received – that I almost forgot to open the box. With trembling fingers, I tore open the delicate paper, trying to keep it intact while doing so. I lifted off the cover and inside I found the most beautiful cameo brooch I had ever seen. It was obviously old and very delicate. It looked like the woman on the brooch was hand-carved with intricate details and solid features. It was, by far, the most perfect gift I had ever received.  And that is how I found myself crying by myself on the floor of my living room, holding a letter from a man saying he wanted to be with me and a 1920s era brooch to prove it.

 

Y
ou’d think that having a declaration like the one I received tonight would make me swoon – and of course, it did – but it also made me very nervous. I just wasn’t sure if I was ready to let someone into my life who could potentially hurt me or disappoint me. Another words, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to give or receive love at the moment.

I thought about this all the way over to Marisol’
s where I was due to pick up Clara. It was now the end of the work day (for most people anyway) so I had my fingers crossed that Marisol wouldn’t know that I had been let go early after my disastrous attempt at introducing myself. The door was unlocked when I arrived so I let myself in and was never happier to be greeted by a wet-nosed dog in my life. Clara bounded over to me as best she could the minute I walked through the door. My poor girl had such a hard life so just seeing her so happy and doing the “pit bull wiggle” was a joy for me. I bent down to give her head a scratch and while doing so a very observant 99-year-old medium took note of my new brooch.

“My God! Where did you get that thing?” she asked, making her way towards me from her position on the sofa.

“Oh, it was a gift from a friend,” I replied, knowing full well that she would want details. I had the notion that I better not show up at Marisol’s in my tracksuit so I changed into a pair of designer jeans and a peach colored cashmere sweater. I pinned the brooch –which has a light blue background -- to my sweater as an embellishment and when I looked in the mirror, I really liked what I saw.

“Well, that ‘friend’
must be really fond of you. That’s an authentic piece of jewelry from the 1920s. Not something easy to come by, especially in that quality.”

I could tell she wanted me to elaborate on how I knew this friend and whether it was a male or female, but when I said nothing she changed the subject.

“So, tell me, how did your day go? Clara and I had a lovely time together. She didn’t try to wee in my poinsettias once – a marked improvement from the last time she was here, I think.”

“Oh, it went fine. You know, normal office stuff…getting to meet my co-workers, arranging my new office. Those types of things,” I said as nonchalantly as possible.

“What about the orchids, dear? Did you place them in a special place?” Marisol asked. I must have looked as stunned as I felt because she filled in the void by saying that they were a congratulations gift from my grandfather.

“Didn’t you look at the little card? It was written in his own words and then delivered by one of the area’s most expensive florists this morning.”
So that’s where they had come from. I was trying to figure out who had sent them to me and now I knew. I guess I still wasn’t used to having dead people send me flowers. It’s usually the other way around, isn’t it?

“’Send Autumn flowers – orchids to be exact – I want her to know how proud I am of her!’ he said and continued saying until I ordered the damn things just to shut him up!
Sometimes it seems like he just wants to barber on forever.” She looked slightly cross with my grandfather but at least she was nice enough not to say it aloud.

“Well, tell him thank you, if you can. I’ve actually been meaning to ask you if you can tell the dead things or can you only receive messages from them and not the other way around?”

“I’m a Medium, Chickadee. I can receive messages but actually sending them is a bit harder. It’s not like I can pick up the nearest Ameche – that’s telephone to you – and call him up. He or she has to come to me when they’re ready…like all spirits do.”

“What about evil spirits?” I asked, because I have had something on my mind for quite some time now.

“What about them?”

“Can they send messages too? And if so, can they send them directly to a person instead of through a Medium like yourself?”

“Why do you ask that? Is there something you’re not telling me? Come on, spit it out! You’re giving me the heebie- jeebies already!” Marisol asked, suddenly interested in every word I had to say. I really didn’t want to bring this up, since I felt as though I had put it to bed ages ago but I had to know and I figured no one would give me a more direct and honest answer than Marisol.

“Well, a while back – maybe a year ago now – I heard a voice. A whisper, really, in the room I was sitting in at the time. I had been typing up an article on the comput
er and the room was in silence when suddenly I heard “You’re going to die” whispered into the air. It freaked me out and for a while I did nothing but cry and watch every step I took but then I tried to let it go. It still bothers me though…it’s like something was trying to scare me,” I explained, getting goosebumps as I did so.

“You have to tell it to dust off, fade, go away, whatever you want to call it. Not responding to evil will only give it opportunity to taunt you again. Be stern and tell that damned spirit where to go!”
I had never seen Marisol so serious before. I must have really touched a nerve with my questions.

“Sometimes, years ago, I’d get grumpy, irate, mean old bastards wanting me to enact revenge on someone
but I told them immediately that I don’t do that and they’d best find someone else to barber to. These were mostly mafia hit men or other criminals. Normal people aren’t usually so cruel once they’ve passed on, which is why your spirit slightly worries me. Have you had any other experiences with it?” I did, actually. So I told her how we had heard sounds of furniture being moved upstairs when there was no furniture and saw creepy shadow figures on our walls. One of them was even holding what looked like a knife. Marisol was quite shaken by this revelation, I could see.

“Autumn, darling,” she said, gripping my hand, “leaving that house was probably the best thing you ever did. There was obviously some unrest there. Someone didn’t take too kindly to The Big Sleep and wanted to hurt you. I worry for you though…the spirit world can be quite dangerous. So please keep an eye out for any potential harm…”
My stomach plummeted as her words hit me. Could I still be in danger even though I was clear across the country? I hoped not. I hoped that I left the spirit or spirits that were haunting me back in Massachusetts when I left.

 

T
uesday morning came before I knew it and when I walked into the office I was taken aback by the fact that I actually worked here. At least, I think I did. I wasn’t really sure how much longer Sophie would keep me on board if I kept making a mess of things. Who knew if she even wanted me to come in today or not. Well, either way, I was here. Dressed and ready for whatever lie ahead.

After getting home from Marisol’s late last night, I slept like a baby. I think the stress of the day coupled with the fact that I had brought up some old demons – quite literally – just wore me out.  I had meant to e-mail Bayani but was so tired I couldn’t even be bothered to put the computer on.
Luckily, a good night’s rest left me feeling ready for anything this morning. I was a bit early but hopefully I could catch Sophie in her office before the others arrived in about a half hour. I didn’t want to talk about my personal business in front of them. I may not have worked in an office of this size before but I knew full well how quickly office gossip spread.

When I reached the 22
nd
floor, I walked to my own office, put my coat over my chair and was just getting ready to make my way over to Sophie’s office when I realized I hadn’t read the card that came with the Orchid’s yet. Picking up the mauve envelope, I carefully slid my finger underneath the flap and opened up the little card.

“Here’s wishing you luck on your first day. Don’t forget I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U – today and always.

Love,

Gramps

That little “I love you” was something my grandfather and I did whenever I’d visit his house. It was like our own little inside joke. I didn’t even know I was crying until I heard a soft knock on the door.

“Hi, sorry to bother you,
Sophia said. She saw you come in and wanted me to get a head start with you before everyone else gets here,” said a tiny wisp of woman in her 30’s. She reminded me a little bit of Jennifer Lopez, only a lot skinnier and less tough looking.

“I’m Jeanette the stylist for the magazine. I usually only style the models on shoots but I was given strict orders to get you a new look by the end of the day, so that’s what I’m here to do!” She gave me a warm smile that seemed genuine and I knew
instantly that she and I could be friends outside of the office. Jeanette informed me that she’d booked me in at the best salon in the Bay area in an hour. Until then she wanted me to tell her how I’d like to look as she took notes and gave her own insights on my answers. Oddly enough, Jeanette also liked the 1920’s and said that she could easily picture me rocking a glossy black bob haircut. I was on board with a bob haircut but had no plans whatsoever of going black – glossy or otherwise.

“I’d look like a witch!” I told her as she looked me over
intently. Eventually she nodded her agreement and we both laughed. It felt so good to have a laugh with a girlfriend. I missed my friends back home but after what happened many of them turned their backs on me even though I was as innocent as a newborn baby. I hoped that Jeanette could be my first girlfriend in San Fran.

Once we got all the details down, we left the building and headed over to Bella’s Boutique, wh
ich had an in-house salon that was said to be the best around. Bella, a tiny woman with thick horn-rimmed glasses and a cultured air about her, came straight over to Jeanette and I as we walked into the salon. Like most salons, there were the normal appliances but I immediately noticed that Bella’s salon seemed more upscale. Clients were served champagne or wine instead of plain old water or coffee and each woman seemed more content than she would at an average salon. The whole place just felt extremely exclusive.

“Jeanette!” Bella exclaimed, air kissing my new stylist friend before turning to me and saying “Is this a model for one of your features? Oooh, she’ll be fun to work on! Quite obviously you’re going for a natural look this time, no?”
I wanted to sink into the floor with humiliation but Jeanette explained that I was actually a new recruit over at
Fashion and Flare
and needed to new look to go with my new job. Thank God she made me sound so good. I don’t think I could have described myself better than she did! Bella got to work on me right away – and saddled me down with an extra-large glass of pink champagne in the process. She was going to work on me herself instead of pushing me off on another hairdresser, which seemed nice of her.

“So Autumn, tell me, how’s your love life? Got anyone good on the hook?”
Jeanette asked as Bella looked at me curiously in the large oval mirror. My reflection was a dead giveaway of my feelings for Bayani. Even though I may not think I wanted to be with him, the blush creeping up my neck and face gave me away.

“Oooh! Do tell!” they chorused.

“Well, he’s not really my boyfriend per se but we’ve got something, that’s for sure. He’s amazing!” I gushed. “We met after he almost hit me with his car…”

“WHAT?”

“I know, crazy, right? It was actually my fault, I crossed without looking but he was so sweet and didn’t even get angry at me. Instead he took me to the local café to sit down and have sticky buns with him,” I explained. Both women were enraptured by the tale of how Bayani and I met and how I thought he was the most gorgeous man ever.  When they asked where he was now, I told them that he was out of the country for work.

BOOK: Lessons In Being A Flapper
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