Lesson 4 Clementine

This lesson is part of an ongoing story that I’ve written about in lessons 1-3. If you want the bigger picture, feel free to read my previous lessons. I would love any and all feedback.

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I got home just a bit after 11pm from the club. I parked in my designated parking spot outside my apartment and looked up at my third floor window. The building could definitely use a fresh coat of paint, but in the dark it looked like your average apartment building.

The coffee shop on the first floor was closed, but the lights were still on inside.  I wondered if I could knock on the door and still get a coffee, given that they knew me so well. I was in there every morning before work. They usually had my favorite honey and hazelnut latte ready for me by the time I got in the door. Then I thought better of it, figuring I’d get no sleep at all if I had a coffee now. Sleeping was going to be a problem as it was, with so much on my mind.

I buzzed into the building and took the stairs.  There was an elevator, but I rarely used it. Me and closed spaces didn’t really mix well. I didn’t like not having an exit, and I never went into an elevator if I had to pee, because that would be the time the elevator would break down, so I usually took the stairs. Not to mention I needed the exercise.

I let myself into my apartment, and since I rarely carried a purse, threw my wallet and my keys in the tray by the door. I knew that Cole followed me home, but I pretended not to see him. I really wanted to call  Zoe and tell her everything that happened, but she was in bed by now, and I knew she had to get up really early for work.  I did send her a text telling her I had lots to talk about and to give me a call when she got to work in the morning.  I wish she’d gone with me to the club; we might have had some fun, even though dancing was not really my thing.

Now that Cole was back in town I needed to figure out a way to get him to stop following me. I was afraid it would be a regular thing again.  Unfortunately I was pretty consistent in my day so it was easy to figure out where I was at just about any time. I was a homebody for the most part. When everyone thinks you’re crazy, you tend to shy away from large groups of people and just stay home.

I did have a job, and worked at EJ’s Used Book store on Ninth and Franklin in Casa Del Rosa, about 6 blocks from my apartment. I worked the 10-7 shift, Tuesday through Saturday. It wasn’t a very busy place, so I could keep my habit of speaking to Abby out loud from happening in front of people too often.

I made my way to my small bedroom, looking for my cat, Bagheera on the way. She had found some pretty strange hiding places, and a few of them I still didn’t know about. She was a gorgeous black cat with striking gold eyes. She was considered a Bombay which was a cross between a Burmese and an American short hair and they were bred specifically to look like miniature panthers, which is how she got her name. The Jungle Book was one of my favorites as a child.

I spotted her on my bed, getting hair all over my pillow as usual. While I ran my hand over her ears  I looked at my book shelves, thinking they were extremely bare. My one favorite past time, and I was having trouble finding places to keep them. But it was time for a new book.  I got a ten percent discount at EJ’s, but quite often my boss just told me to take it, especially the older ones.  I hadn’t had time to read the latest Kim Harrison book yet.  I wanted to be able to devote my attention to it since it was the last in the Rachel Morgan series. I’d already spotted a used copy on the shelves at the store and was itching to get my hands on it.

I’d slowly been clearing out my book shelves and switching to digital, which I knew was counter intuitive, considering I worked in a book store, but I just didn’t have the space for more books.  The apartment I shared with Ian had 2 bedrooms with a small bathroom in each room, and an open living, kitchen and dining area. It was small, but it was in a decent part of town. When I moved in, I had to put most of my books in storage, and was left with one small shelf of favorites that I had in my room. All of Kim Harrison’s books sat proudly on one of the shelves. I had been gradually selling my books back to EJ’s to make a few extra bucks and clear out the storage area.

Sam had given me several old books that had handwritten notes about possession, or sharing a body with another mind/soul, and I hadn’t gotten around to reading them yet either.  I was afraid that if I did, it would make the possibility of Abby disappearing for good, a reality.

The books were bound in beautiful brown leather, and written in an old world writing. Some type of calligraphy I thought. Some of it was in English, but the rest?  Maybe Latin? I wasn’t sure. But I really needed to take the time to read them so we could figure out what had to be done to save Abby. I also had no idea what Sam might want to be paid for this type of work, but as a fully licensed necromancer, I’m sure he charged something for his services.

My mind wandered a minute at what those services might be.  I didn’t usually ogle men, but Sam was hot. Broad shoulders, six pack abs, and muscled arms as big as my thighs. I shook my head, attempting to clear that thought, since there was no way Sam would ever be interested in me. I had a feeling his tastes ran more toward the same types of women my brother liked, though he’d done nothing to make me think that, but isn’t that usually what guys wanted?

I looked at my laptop and debated checking my fantasy football stats, but instead I sat on my bed and took off my favorite pair of black boots, and noticed I had a hole in my sock. I pulled it off, tossed it in the trash and grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom for a bath. I hesitated when I was almost in front of the window, hoping I wouldn’t see Cole outside. I bit my lower lip, “Should I close the curtains?” I said aloud.

Even though I was on the third floor I decided it would be a good idea. In my head I could feel Abby nodding her agreement.

I wasn’t a girly girl by any stretch of the imagination; however, don’t get between me and my mascara and I loved a good hot bubble bath. I’d found bubble bath called hot buttered rum, and it made me thirsty for the hot toddy just smelling it.  I slid down into the tub and let the hot water ease the tension in my shoulders. I must have dozed off in there, because I woke with start when I heard someone entering the apartment and the water was cold and my fingers were pruny.

It sounded like someone with keys, so I wasn’t too worried.  Then I heard a high pitched female voice. Damn, Ian must have brought home one of those 21 year old blond bimbos again. I heard his bedroom door slam. There goes any last hope of sleep.

I gave up on the tub, got out, dried off and headed back into the bedroom for a cozy pair of sweat pants and faded t-shirt. I turned on my noisy box fan to drown out Ian and his one night stand. Maybe living with him wasn’t such a good idea after all.

I crawled under the quilt my grandma made for me when I graduated high school, and turned off the light. I wasn’t sure I would get any sleep, there was just too much to think about. Bagheera moved over to cuddle up next to me.  Her warm little body was a calming presence, but I still had a feeling it was going to be a long night.