When Love Finds a Home (23 page)

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Authors: Megan Carter

Tags: #Fiction, #Lesbian

BOOK: When Love Finds a Home
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"No." Anna turned to
face her. "What's wrong?"

In the dim glow from the back
neighbor's security light, Rona could see Anna gazing at her.

"I'm a little concerned
about Malcolm. He's a friend of mine and we sort of looked out for each other
when things got bad. I've been trying to find him, but no one's seen him for
several days."

"Could he be at one of
the shelters?"

"I don't think so. He
hates them, too. I checked all his usual hangouts, so either he's left or the
police picked him up."

"For what?"

"It could have been
vagrancy or panhandling." Malcolm wasn't above panhandling or picking an
occasional pocket, but to her knowledge, he didn't resort to violent crime.

Anna was still for several
seconds. "Is there anything I can do to help find him?"

Rona hugged her. "No.
I'll go back tomorrow at lunch and start asking around again."

Anna hesitated. "You
understand that I wouldn't feel safe having a strange man in the house."

She kissed Anna's forehead.
"I wasn't expecting you to take him in. I just need to know he's okay. Go
on back to sleep."

"What about you?"

"Don't worry about
me."

Anna leaned over and kissed
her. The kiss grew steadily more urgent. Rona closed her eyes and let the kiss
burn away all her worries and fears. When Anna's hand eased down her stomach
and slipped between her legs, Rona rolled over onto her back and pulled Anna on
top of her. She opened her legs to give Anna's insistent hand more space. As
the fingers brought her closer and closer to orgasm, she wrapped her arms
tightly around Anna's body and arched her body upward. When release finally
came, she burrowed her face in the warm shoulder above her and cried out her
pleasure. After making love, they slept.

The following day, Rona again
called Domingo. There was still no word of Malcolm. She had already covered the
relatively small amount of distance she could reach on foot during lunch. All
she could do now was wait until Saturday when she could hitch a ride in with
Anna and spend most of the day searching for him. She decided to use her lunch
break to shop for a couple of basic beginning piano music books for her students.
Gina had agreed to reimburse her for the cost. Using some of her carefully
hoarded money, she walked to a nearby music store to search through their
selections.

After making her purchases,
she glanced over the ads on the bulletin board. There was a flyer announcing
that the store needed a full-time sales clerk. The position started at four
hundred dollars a week. She reached for the flyer but stopped when she saw a
bold line across the bottom stating that at least a year of sales experience
was required. She had none. Looking over the rest of the board, she found no
ads from anyone looking for a keyboard player, but there were a couple of
business cards offering piano lessons. On a whim, she borrowed a three-by-five
card from the guy at the counter and wrote out her own ad offering piano
lessons. She used the phone number of Anna's office as a contact source. She
felt a tad guilty as she pinned the card onto the board. She should probably
have asked Anna before she started using her phone number. Before leaving, she
strolled through the area where the pianos and organs were displayed. A short,
thin woman was showing an electric keyboard to a man with a girl who Rona
guessed to be fourteen or fifteen. The girl was in the process of trying to
bang out some tune that sounded vaguely familiar to her.

"This one isn't any
good," she whined to her dad.

"This is the latest
model. You've tried everything else we have," the saleswoman said as her
hand went to her temple.

Rona had seen dozens of kids
like this girl. They were spoiled rich kids who came to River Center Mall and
pushed their way through the crowds as if they owned the place.

"They've been in here for
an hour."

Rona flinched. She was so
engrossed with eavesdropping that
she
failed to notice the sales clerk who had given her the card walk up behind her.

"What's the
problem?" she whispered back.

"The kid's a brat who
thinks she has more talent than she does. She keeps trying to play that Norah
Jones song 'Come Away With Me,' and she can't. So she blames it on the
keyboard." He rushed on. "My guess is the guy's a weekend dad who's
willing to buy whatever the kid wants."

"So, why don't they buy
one?"

The clerk chuckled.
"That's going to be pretty tough. The kid wants the one that sounds like
Norah Jones's piano. When she screws it up, she blames the keyboard. Verna's
wasting her time with them. They'll end up going somewhere else."

Rona nodded. "I noticed
you were looking for a sales clerk. If I sell this guy a keyboard, can I have
the job?"

He glanced at her and
shrugged. "You'd have to ask Verna. She's the owner."

"Then let's get her over
here."

The clerk hesitated, and they
stood watching the man and his daughter for a while longer.

"He's going to
leave," Rona pushed. "I know I can sell him a keyboard."

"Wait here," he
instructed.

Rona watched as he went over
and pulled Verna aside. Rona nodded slightly as the woman excused herself and
came over to her.

"What makes you think you
can sell him a keyboard?" she asked. "How much sales experience do
you have?"

"None, but I know people
and I know music. You're about to lose a sale."

"Which one do you think
is most suitable for her?"

"With her talent, the
cheapest one Wal-Mart carries, but to show you I can do it, I'm going to sell
him that Yamaha." It was a PF-1000,topoftheline.

The woman scoffed and shook
her head. "That particular model carries a forty-one-hundred-dollar price
tag."

Without waiting for her agree,
Rona handed the sales clerk her bag and sat down at the Yamaha. She did a few
quick scales to limber up prior to launching into the song. Before she was
halfway through the first verse, the kid was racing toward them.

"That's the one I
want," she yelled and pointed toward the digital piano.

Rona continued playing.

"I want that one,"
the girl insisted again.

"This is a professional
quality instrument," Rona said. "I would recommend something much
cheaper for someone at your level." She played a few more measures before
she stopped and stared directly at the girl. "There are some very nice
keyboards at Wal-Mart that sell for a fraction—"

"I can play just
fine," the girl huffed, glaring at Verna. "You did something to the
buttons to make this one sound better." A radical transformation overcame
the girl as she turned to her father. "Daddy, you said you wanted me to
learn to play the piano. How can I possibly learn anything on those horrible
things she was trying to sell you?" Without turning from her father, she
pointed toward Verna.

"Alexis, this appears to
be a complicated piece of equipment. Perhaps you should start with something
simpler."

Rona stared in amazement as a
large tear formed and spilled gracefully from the girl's eye. It rolled down
her cheek as if a director had cued it into the script. "You don't think
I'm smart enough to learn to play. Maybe you should take me back to
Mom's."

The man glanced nervously at
Rona and cleared his throat. He tried to pull the girl away from her captive
audience, but she held her ground.

Rona turned back to the
keyboard and softly played another Norah Jones tune.

Alexis stared daggers at her
before burying her face in her
father's chest.
The shrieking rage exhibited earlier was replaced with silent shoulder-shaking
sobs.

The man's shoulders drooped as
he awkwardly patted her arm. "Don't cry. You know I can't stand it when
Daddy's little angel cries."

Rona would have sworn she
heard either Verna or the clerk snicker.

The guy turned to Verna.
"We'll take this one."

A suddenly dry-eyed Alexis
squealed and hugged her father. "You'll see," she promised him.
"I'll sound wonderful on this one. Oh, Daddy, you are so awesome."

Rona headed to the other side
of the store and waited until Verna completed the transaction and the customers
left.

Verna walked over to join her.
"I'm Verna Holland, the owner."

Rona introduced herself.

"I really shouldn't have
allowed that to happen," she said as she sat on a piano bench near Rona.
"It wasn't very honest. You know she didn't have the talent to play this
instrument. It's entirely too complicated for her."

"Yes, but she's happy
because she got what she wanted. Daddy's happy because he bought what she wanted.
You're happy because that was a big sale. Now the question is—am I going to be
happy about getting a job?"

Verna looked at her.
"Let's try it on a trial basis for three weeks. For future reference, we
really do try to match the instrument to the customer, so no more stunts like
today."

Rona felt like jumping up and
down and doing her own shrieking, but instead she merely thanked her.

"When can you
start?" Verna asked.

"Is a week from Monday
okay?" Rona asked, sounding much calmer than she felt. "I'm working
at a temp position now, but it's about to end."

"That's fine. Jerry wants
to start working nights and weekends in two weeks, so he'll have a week to show
you the ropes." She stood and motioned for Rona to follow her. They
entered a small office with catalogs and music journals piled everywhere. Verna
opened a file drawer and pulled out several papers. "These are standard
employment forms. Fill them out and bring them back when you come in. The store
opens at nine, but you'll need to be here at eight-thirty." She gave the
forms to Rona and shook her hand. "Welcome to Holland's Music
Center."

"I'll see you a week from
Monday," Rona said as she turned to leave.

"And don't be
recommending customers shop at Wal-Mart anymore, either," Verna called
after her.

Rona couldn't wait to tell
Anna the news. As she started back to the office, her bag of sheet music in
hand, she stopped and turned her face to the warm sun. The cold fronts were
temporarily forgotten as the temperature hovered around sixty degrees. As she stood
there, she saw a homeless man slip into an alley across the street. He brought
back her concerns about Malcolm. Since she still had time to spare, she decided
to run by the police station to see if maybe he was being held there.

"I thought I heard someone,"
Anna said as she walked out of her office. "You're back early."

"Where is everyone?"
Rona asked, following Anna back down the hallway.

"Neal had a lunch date
and Sharon needed to run some errands." Anna leaned against the front of
her desk and studied her. "What's that sly little smile all about?"

"I found a job."

"Congratulations,"
Anna said and gave her a hug. "Tell me all about it."

Rona quickly told her how the
job offer came about.

"Why were you so sure he
would buy such an expensive model?"

"The kid was a brat. She
was used to getting everything she wanted. Besides, what did I have to
lose?"

Anna pulled her into her arms.
"We're going to have to celebrate," she said as she nuzzled her face
into Rona's hair.

Rona pulled her closer as a
delicious tingle began to warm her body. "This is not the place to start
something you may not have time to finish."

Anna glanced at her watch and
sighed. "You're right. Sharon could be back anytime now." She gave
her a quick kiss before releasing her. "All right, I'll be good. Have you
heard anything about Malcolm?"

"No. No one seems to know
where he is. I've looked everywhere I can think of. I even went to the police
station."

Anna hugged her. "I'm
sorry. Is there anything I can do to help you locate him?"

"No," Rona replied
as she rested her head on Anna's shoulder. "I don't know where else to
look. Maybe he left." Or maybe he didn't survive the freezing weather, she
thought. They heard the door to the front office open. Rona stepped away and
gave Anna a teasing smile. "Can you imagine what we would have been doing
if I hadn't shown extraordinary willpower?"

"I know exactly what I
would have been doing. That's why it's going to be a really long
afternoon," she replied as she brushed past Rona and ran her fingertips up
her leg.

Chapter Twenty-five

That evening, Rona and Tammy
sat at the kitchen table discussing Rona's new job, while the twins were
upstairs playing. Anna was still at work.

"Do you ever get
scared?" Tammy asked.

"About what?"

"You know. Everything
seems to be working out for us, but sometimes I wake up at night scared that
it's all a dream. That some morning I'll wake up back on the streets and this
will have all been a dream."

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