Unfinished Muse (24 page)

The man was talking as if his entire life
was over. Until that moment, I hadn’t really wondered what he did
for a living—he was always home when I got there. That he was
living off his inheritance hadn’t even crossed my mind.

The more I found out, the less I knew about
him. But I did know this: the only time I’d seen Alex happy was
when he worked on his building project. I was a Muse. I would not
sit back and watch a man give away his soul to a nine-to-five job
he didn’t want or need while leaving his dreams behind simply
because some asshat told him he should.

I rose from the bench and walked behind a
nearby tree. The only other people at the park were a young mother
and her twin toddler boys. Mom pushed a stroller under another tree
and released her little ones, who tore off toward the sandbox.
Nobody was paying any attention to me.

I flicked the button on my belt and became
visible again, then clipped my bubbles to their spot. When I
appeared next to Alex’s bench, I did my best to look distressed and
overheated.

“Excuse me.” I panted a little, pretending
to be out of breath. “Did you see a Pomeranian in a green bowtie
come tearing past here?”

Alex glanced up at me, frowned, then shook
his head. “No, I’m sorry.” He sat up straighter. “Do you need help
looking?”

I dropped to the bench in feigned
exhaustion. “No. Thank you, though. He’s an idiot. He’ll come back
home when he runs out of energy.” I fanned myself with my hand. “I
don’t know why I bother to go after him. He does this all the
time.”

He patted Oscar and smiled at me. “I
understand. It’s dangerous out there. They don’t realize how
dangerous.”

I nodded, then stuck my hand out. “I’m
Wynter.”

He gave my hand a firm shake. “Alex. I’ve
never seen you around here. Do you live nearby?”

I took a deep breath. I’ve never been
especially good at lying before. But I’ve never been especially
bad, either. “About four blocks from here. Over on Brown. You?”

“Two blocks in the other direction. What do
you do?” He wasn’t flirting, exactly, but he did appear truly
interested. As if he didn’t get a chance to talk to other people
very often.

Maybe he didn’t.

We chatted awhile about my job as an
operator at an answering service—not a total lie, since I did have
that job once—and about his lack of a job, due to having inherited
money when his dad died fifteen years earlier.

“But, what do you love, Alex?”

He gave me a sheepish look. “It’s
stupid.”

“Nothing’s stupid if it makes you happy.
Some days, lime Jell-O makes me happy.” I wrinkled my nose. “Unless
it’s got fruit or carrots or something chopped up in it. Jell-O is
only good if it’s smooth.”

Alex chuckled. “Agreed. Well, my hobby’s not
as cool as Jell-O, but I build stuff with toothpicks.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Seriously? Like,
what, bridges and stuff? I’ve seen some pretty amazing things
online.”

Oscar shifted in Alex’s lap, then moved to
the space between us to rest his chin on my leg before going back
to sleep. I smoothed the soft fur behind his ears.

Alex gave a small shrug. “I’ve built bridges
before. Right now I’m…I mean, I was building a replica of my
house.”

“Was?”

He shrugged again and scratched Oscar’s
back. “I gave it up. I need to do more important things.”

“Alex.” I sat without speaking until he
finally made eye contact with me. “What’s more important in life
than doing the thing that brings you joy?”

The cloudy, uncertain look I’d seen in his
eyes for the past several days appeared to recede like a slow tide.
“Maybe you’re right.”

I smiled. “Alex, I may not be able to catch
my dog, but trust me. I’m always right.”

Chapter 20

When I left, Alex had an excitement on his face he’d
been missing since the previous Thursday. I was confident his
enthusiasm for finishing his project was fully restored. I’d have
liked to stay and watch, but I still had two more clients to
reignite.

My fingers were crossed that Missy was back
to work and not screwing around with her fingernails again, but I
didn’t hold my breath. The fact that all three clients fell off the
wagon at the same time had me suspicious. Of what, I wasn’t exactly
sure, but something—or rather someone—could be working against me.
Maybe.

Or maybe I just sucked at this.

Whatever the reason for my failures, Missy
was hard at work on a Sudoku puzzle when I got there. The
scrapbooking supplies she’d so painstakingly sorted last week were
piled in a haphazard stack on the kitchen counter. Some of the
pretty papers had rings on them from where she’d left a water glass
or coffee cup.

Baby Cassie lay on her back on a blanket on
the floor, bare feet wiggling in the air and hands swatting at the
brightly colored safari animals dangling above her. That didn’t
bode well for getting Missy moving on her project. I may not have
had any kids of my own, but I knew having a baby in the room wasn’t
the best way to concentrate on anything—except on the baby.

“Fine.” I sat on the floor next to Cassie.
“I’ll wait until naptime. I’ve got all the time in the world.”

Of course, that was a big fat lie. I had a
little over two weeks.
We
had a little over two weeks.
Cassie cooed and giggled at me. I hadn’t noticed it before, but
apparently babies could see me as easily as dogs could.

Interesting.

I unclipped my bubbles and blew them in
Missy’s direction. “Time to get back to work, Mama. You don’t want
to go to the party empty handed.”

Cassie giggled and her eyes followed the
bubbles across the room.

Missy sighed, and a fat tear rolled down her
cheek.

Not the response I’d been looking for.

She unfolded her legs and climbed from the
sofa. “Gabe!” She took a few steps toward the hallway that led to
the bedrooms. “Gabe, I need to do a load of laundry. Can you watch
her?”

A pale man with red hair and a headset poked
his head out of the bedroom. “Yeah. Okay. Now? I was about to level
up.” He saw the look on her face and frowned. “Are you
alright?”

“I’m fine. I just need to get out for a few
minutes. Get some air.”

He nodded and pulled off his headset. “Go
ahead. We’ve got this.” He grinned down at the baby. “Don’t we,
sweetie pie?”

Missy disappeared into the bedroom for a
moment, then reappeared with a basket of dirty clothes and a bottle
of detergent. She dropped a kiss on Gabe’s cheek. “Thanks.”

He grinned and picked up the baby, cuddling
her against his chest. “You go get some air, Mommy. Daddy and
Cassie will be here planning world domination.” He blew a raspberry
on Cassie’s cheek, making her giggle.

This was the first time I’d seen Missy’s
husband. I liked him. He seemed sweet, and Cassie obviously adored
him.

I followed Missy out the door.

She went down the steps, around the corner,
and into a room lined with washers and dryers. No one else was in
there, so she flipped the light on and got to work.

I backed out, trying to decide what to do
next. After a moment, I turned and ran for my car. Breathless, I
rummaged through the trunk and the backseat. Fortunately, I’m not
the tidiest person in the world. I found three socks, a pair of
yoga pants, two T-shirts, and a hoodie. Good enough. I shoved it
all in a reusable, cloth grocery bag, grabbed a handful of change
from the ashtray, and jogged back to the laundry room.

Before I stepped inside, I tapped my belt
and became visible.

Missy looked up from her sorting and smiled.
“Hi.”

“Hi.” My grin was probably a little too big.
I was still getting the hang of this friend thing. A person can’t
erase a lifetime of habitual self-isolation in two weeks.
Awkwardness was still a thing for me.

I opened a washing machine and tossed my bag
full of assorted car discards into it, then lowered the lid.

“You forgot your detergent.” Missy gave me a
curious look, like she wondered if I’d ever done laundry
before.

Of course I’d done laundry. But my apartment
had its own washer and dryer. Laundromats were kind of foreign to
me.

I opened the lid and peeked inside. “I did.
I totally forgot.” I fumbled with my bag, as if I might find some
inside, a magical grocery bag that yielded any item I could wish
for. Unfortunately, my bag remained stubbornly empty.

“Here. Help yourself.” Missy handed me hers.
“I hate when I have to go all the way back upstairs because I
forgot something.”

I nodded. “Me, too. Thanks.”

She tossed the last of her whites into one
machine and a pair of jeans into another. “I’ve never seen you
around. Did you just move in?”

And…we were back to making stuff up. “I just
moved here, and I’m staying with a friend until I get a place of my
own.”

“Oh. I wonder if I know your friend.”

“Um…” I bit my lip while I measured laundry
soap into its cap. “Do you know…Alfonso?”

She thought about it. “Dark hair, drives a
blue Honda?”

My smile faltered and I returned her
detergent bottle. “I’m staying with Alfonso’s friend,
Terrence.”

She frowned. “I’m not sure I know
Terrence.”

I dropped quarters into the slot on the
machine, bobbing my head cheerfully. “That’s who I’m staying with.
Terrence. Yep.”

The back of my neck was sweating. Making
stuff up was hard.

I hopped onto the machine and folded my
legs. “Have you lived here long?”

She set her machines and fed them the
obligatory quarters. “About three years. I’m living in 1117B with
my husband and baby. We like it here.” Once both her machines were
running, she slid onto one of them and sat facing me. “Gabe’s off
today, so he stayed with Cassie.”

I sat there looking at her, not knowing what
to say after that. Alex had been a little easier, but women were
tough for me sometimes, and small talk was my Achilles heel.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, I
remembered how I’d handled Alex, and stuck my hand out. “I’m
Wynter.”

She shook my hand. “That’s so pretty. I’m
Missy. Which isn’t a name at all, really, but it’s all I’ve got. I
always figured my mom was too startled by having a baby right after
she turned forty to actually think up a real name for me.”

“It’s nice. And I’m sure your parents liked
it when they gave it to you.”

Her expression darkened and she looked away.
“Yeah. Well.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize they were a
touchy subject.” I could not believe my luck in finding a way to
get her parents into the conversation so fast. Maybe I wasn’t so
stupid at this after all.

“Well, no. It’s not like that. They’re
awesome. In fact, that’s part of my problem.” She pulled something
out of her pocket. “Forget it. Want some gum?” She tossed me a
piece before I could answer.

I unwrapped it and stuck it in my mouth.
“Thanks.” So much for guiding the conversation in a subtle,
non-invasive way. We chewed in silence for a little while. “My
mom’s weird,” I blurted, rupturing the silence. “And her birthday
is next week. I have no idea what to get her. What do you get
someone who clips coupons to use as decoupage on her coffee
table?”

“A newspaper subscription?” Missy laughed.
“I don’t know. I’m the last person to ask for help on that one. My
parents’ fiftieth anniversary is coming up soon. I thought I had
the perfect gift, but now, I have no clue.” She blew out a dramatic
lungful of air and pushed her hair out of her face. She looked
miserable.

I chose my words carefully, afraid to spook
her off the subject. “What were you going to get them?”

“I was making them a scrapbook.” She shook
her head. “But that’s stupid. It’s their golden anniversary. I
should be doing something more—like a cruise or something.”

I stared at her, incredulous. Was that the
problem? She thought she should be buying them some huge, expensive
gift instead?

“Don’t you think your parents would rather
you spent the money on their grandbaby?”

She popped her gum as she considered it.
“Maybe. I guess. But the scrapbook seems so stupid. Like a
six-year-old drawing a picture of her stick-figure family so Mom
can stick the picture on the fridge with magnets.”

I shrugged and blew a tiny bubble with my
gum. Since the gum wasn’t meant for it, I wasn’t very successful.
“The phrase ‘It’s the thought that counts’ exists for a reason.
Plus, scrapbooking is hard. It takes a lot of thought, creativity,
and work. Anybody can go to a travel agency and buy tickets. Money
isn’t love.”

Maybe I was laying it on too thick, but I
was desperate to get her back on track. My machine was done and so
were hers, so we worked in silence as we moved our wet things into
dryers and fed more quarters into the slots.

While we waited for the clothes to dry, we
switched to safer topics. If I hit the right note about her
parents’ anniversary gift, it would sink in and take hold. If I
hadn’t, well, poking it would drive her the wrong way.

Instead, I asked about Gabe. She told me all
about their long-distance relationship built solely through phone
and Internet exchanges working for different branches of the same
tech company. Eventually, Gabe transferred to Topeka, they married,
and Missy quit her job as an account manager to be a full-time
mom.

That gave me a start. I’d viewed her as
unambitious and unskilled, since finding her at home with a kid,
messy house, and the television constantly on. I was ashamed to
have judged her like that, even if it was an unconscious opinion.
Stay-at-home moms came from all types of backgrounds.

Hell, I wouldn’t be able to stay home by
myself with a baby every day, and I didn’t have any real
skills.

Having actual conversations with people gave
a lot more insight into their lives and their needs than skulking
around invisible did. I’d learned that with Alex, and now I was
learning it with Missy.