Mister Fixit (Love in New York #3) (2 page)

BOOK: Mister Fixit (Love in New York #3)
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She fixes my tea and then stirs, speaking absently as the liquid swirls around inside the cup. “He lets me pet him once a week. Twice if it’s Christmas.”

My laughter sounds fake, even though it’s not. “Why twice at Christmas?”

She takes her own teacup and drops a lump of sugar into it. “Because I feed him foie gras on Christmas Eve. It’s the one day of the year he gets something special, and he rewards me with access to his head for about five seconds.” She looks off into the distance. “He reminds me of my late husband, actually.”

When I laugh this time, it sounds more genuine. “Not very affectionate, I take it?” I take my tea and saucer in hand. Sipping, I watch her over the rim. She’s way more feisty than I originally thought she would be.

“No, not really. A scientist. Archeologist, actually.” She sighs and puts her cup down. “He was always more interested in artifacts than any living thing.”

I twist around toward her shelves. “I noticed you have some artifacts there.”

“Yes, I’ve winnowed down our original collection, leaving just my favorites here. The rest are on loan.”

“Really? Where?” Our family has some pieces on loan too, although I don’t really know what they are specifically, other than the fact that they’re paintings. My brother James always kept track of those things for us. And now that our parents are gone, none of us is really interested in getting the stuff back. Better to let the public enjoy them than locking them away where only we can see them. Thanks to our grandparents’ and parents’ investments, none of us will ever have to sell one of the pieces for money to live on.

She waves her hand carelessly. “Oh, we have things here in Manhattan. London. Dubai if you can believe that.” She rolls her eyes.

“Dubai? That’s really cool, actually.”

She shrugs. “Ancient artifacts have been in my life for over sixty years. I’m kind of tired of the whole game, really.
 
I have other interests now.”

I turn back to her, more curious than ever. “Like what?” I don’t know what I expect her to say, maybe lion-taming or something equally daring since her career path makes me think of Indiana Jones, but I’m surprised nonetheless when she gives me her actual answer.

“Knitting if you can believe it.” She laughs as if she can’t believe it herself. “Of all the things.” She shakes her head. “It’s just that my mind starts racing, and since I don’t go out anymore, there’s nothing to rein it in. The knitting is very calming. Very relaxing.”

“Maybe I should try it.” The words fly out of my mouth out of sense of politeness, but I should have watched what I was saying more closely. I’ve revealed too much, and I’m quickly learning that just because Rose stays inside all the time, it doesn’t mean she isn’t as sharp as a tack.

She sips her tea and smiles. “So tell me, Jana. Where’s little Cassie today?”

I swallow and make a big show of picking up my tea and sipping, giving me time to compose myself before I respond.

“I can’t remember the last time I heard her, actually.” Rose tips her head, waiting for my answer.

“Well, uh, it’s because… Cassie’s with her father.” Why was that so hard to say? Probably because I wanted to say, ‘Cassie’s with her drug addict no-show dad who I had to pick up the pieces for.’ But it wouldn’t have been very neighborly to share that much dirty laundry, so instead I stutter my way through the polite answer.

She frowns. “I seem to recall you telling me her father wasn’t able to care for her.”

Whoops. Guess I shared a little bit of that laundry already. Oh well. “He wasn’t. But he is now. Apparently.” I nearly choke on that last word. I have to quickly put the teacup in my face again to keep from crying.

“He’s your brother, right?”

Rose also has a great memory. Faaaantastic. “Yes. My brother Jeremy. He lost his wife almost a year ago. In March it’ll be a year.” Guilt assails me. Here I am giving him shit in my head about dumping Cassie on me, when I know very well why he did it. He had his reasons and no one blamed him for them; no one except me, of course, but only after he took Cassie back.

“That’s right,” Rose says. “I read about it in the papers, and I remember her funeral.” She gives me a sad smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t go.”

I shake my head, not wanting her to go down that road. “No, it’s fine. Really. I didn’t expect you to.” I put my teacup down, my drink finished, anxious to leave. I thought having some company would be good for me, but I was wrong. I feel like shit and pretending to be a happy person is taking more energy than I have.

“So your brother has Cassie now? And he’s okay?”

I hang onto the arms of the chair to help steady my emotions. “Yes. He and his girlfriend. Or his wife, I guess she is now.” It’s impossible to miss the bitterness in my voice. I blame everything on her, which may or may not be fair, but that’s how I’m playing it. Before she came along, everything was fine. Well, okay, it wasn’t fine; Jeremy was going to hell in a hand basket, but Cassie was great, and I was great. Why did anything have to change? Jeremy could have gotten better and left Cassie with me. I was already acting as her mother…

“That must be hard for you,” Rose says, oblivious to my internal struggle, “raising her for all those months and then having her taken away.” She puts her teacup down. “You still see her, though, I imagine.” She waits for me to reassure her.

“Yes, of course. I’m welcome at their home anytime I want to be there.”

“Do you go? Do you visit?”

I shrug. “I want to.”

“But you don’t.” She lowers her chin, but keeps her eyes on me. She looks like a grade school teacher waiting for me to admit I didn’t do my homework.

I shake my head, my heart aching. “No. I think about it a lot, but I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because… she’s settling into her new life, with her dad and her … new mother.” My voice catches on the last word. I hate that girl who took my place in Cassie’s life.
Sarah
. The mere word alone makes me want to spit on this pretty Aubusson carpet.

Rose’s face goes soft. “Aww, honey, she’s not taking your place.”

I frown, wondering if Rose is reading my mind at this point.

She continues. “You’re going to be the most special aunt that little girl will ever have. No one can take that away from you.”

I wave my hand around, trying to dissipate the heavy emotions that are hanging over our teatime. “No, I know that. I’m not worried about it. I saw them at my brother’s wedding, and everything was fine. I’m just busy. Actually, I’m thinking about buying a fixer-upper and doing the work myself.”

She sits back, a smile lighting up her face. “Really? Well, that’s exciting. And that’ll keep you busy, that’s for sure. Not something you could have done with a baby around.” She puts her hands on her thighs. “Good for you. When will you start?”

I had only been tossing the idea around in my head before, but now that I’ve said it out loud, it seems like the perfect plan. I have money, I have time, and I have way too much going on in my head. Like Rose said, I need a distraction.

“Today. I was just heading out to go house hunting.” I’m immediately energized, like everything I’ve been doing for the past month has been a complete waste of time. Mooning around my apartment, mourning the loss of my pseudo-motherhood … it was a mistake. Life is what it is, and I can’t change most of it. Why cry over the parts I have no control over? There’s no point. I can change this part, the part where I have too much time on my hands, and I can do it now. The only thing stopping me is not having a property.

“Do you have a realtor?” she asks.

I shake my head, realizing as she posed the question that I haven’t done a single thing yet to prepare myself for this grand adventure. My parents, were they still alive, would listen to me now and tell me I was completely nuts and suggest I seek therapy. Rose, on the other hand, stands and walks over to a gorgeous walnut desk in the corner of the room near her shelves. “I have a friend whose son is a realtor. He specializes in this kind of thing if you’d like his number.”

“Sure. Of course. That’d be great.”

She takes out a binder filled with business cards and then carefully transcribes a number from one of them to a piece of paper. After putting everything back in its place, she walks over to me and hands her note over. “His name is Dicky. His father and my husband were colleagues.”

I look at the careful script on the page. “Dicky Dickerson,” I say, trying to keep a straight face.

Rose sighs. “Yes, not very nice of his parents, was it?”

I burst out laughing and then throw my hand up over my mouth to try and stop more hilarity from coming out. I’m liable to get rolling and be unable to stop if I’m not careful. My emotions are teetering on the edge of crazytown.

Rose pats me on the shoulder and goes back to her chair. “Some people just can’t see any farther than the ends of their noses, can they? Lucky for us, we’re more self-aware than that.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing again.

“Would you like some more tea?” She leans forward in anticipation of a yes.

I stand. “No, thank you. I need to get going.” I hold the paper out and wave it a little. “I have to give Mr. Dickerson a call and see what I can find out there. I’m anxious to get started.”

She stands, using her hands on her thighs to steady herself. “Thank you for stopping by. You’re welcome any time, you know.” We walk to the front door together. “I hope you don’t plan to move into that fixer upper after you’re done with it.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do, but I like my apartment.” I don’t say it aloud, but I like it even more now that I know Rose a little better. I had no idea she was so interesting.

“Good. It’s hard to find good neighbors these days.” She sighs, and I know she’s got to be thinking about the couple down the hall. I’ve never seen anyone party as hearty as they do.

“Don’t I know it.” I lean in to kiss her on the cheek. “Take care.” I’m about to walk out and then stop when I remember something. “What was it that you wanted from the grocery store?”

“Oh, yes! I forgot. I need some butter.”

“Do you want some now? I have a stick or two in my fridge.”

“No, no, that’s all right. It’s not urgent. And if you don’t make it to the store, don’t worry. I can wait for my toast until tomorrow when my regular delivery comes.”

I wiggle my fingers in a wave as I leave, and while I walk down the hall, I punch out the phone number of Mr. Dicky Dickerson on my cell. Maybe having a realtor helping me out wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

Chapter Three

DICKY DICKERSON WAS TOO BUSY to meet with me today, but that’s not going to stop me. I’m cruising through some of my favorite neighborhoods in Brooklyn, searching for signs. Specifically,
For Sale
signs, but I’d even take a cosmic sign at this point. This feels right. I’m doing what I should be doing, I can sense it in my bones.

My cell rings, but I don’t recognize the number. Thinking it might be Dicky, I use my professional voice. “Hello, this is Jana Oliver.”

The person who responds is goofing around, pretending to be formal. “Well, hello, Ms. Jana Oliver. And how might you be this afternoon?” When he laughs, I realize who it is, and my emotions instantly go cold.

“I’m fine. What do you want, Robinson?” I sigh out heavily, hoping he’ll take the hint that I’m not in the mood to chat.

“Whoa. Cold reception. Okay. I’m going to assume it’s not because of something I’ve done, though, and…”

I cut him off. “Oh yeah? And why would you do that, I wonder?”

There’s no response for long enough that I start to think we got cut off. But then there’s a long sigh and his voice has lost all its cheerfulness. “So you are blaming me for everything.”

If I could throw my phone out the window and not regret its loss, I totally would right now. As it is, I’m about to crack it in half with how hard I’m gripping it.

“Now why would I do that?” I say, pretending to be super duper happy as I sit at a stoplight. “You’re not the guy who made me the legal parent of my niece, encouraged me to bond with her as her mother, and then as soon as my brother stopped doing drugs for a single day, undid all the legal ties between her and me and forced me to give her up!” I pause. “Oh, wait…! I’m wrong! That
was
you, Robinson!” I’m screaming now, but I don’t care. People in the neighboring cars can stare all they want.

He sounds like a lawyer when he speaks this time. “You know very well that’s not how things went down.”

“Oh really?” A car honks behind me, telling me to obey the green light. I flip him off out my rear window before I press on the gas. “Really? Because that’s exactly how I remember it. You did that, Robinson.
You
took her away from me.”

“You know, I saw you at the wedding, and you seemed fine with everything.”

“And because you know me sooo well, you’re the best person to judge whether I’m okay, right? Is that it?”

“Listen, Jana, do you want to talk? In person, I mean, not on the phone? You sound really angry.”

All I can do is scream at that. I reach out and try to press the red button on my phone to close down the call, but it won’t work. I can still hear Robinson’s voice, but none of the words are computing. I just need to never listen to him again. Ever. I yank the power cord out of the bottom of the phone, roll down the window, and toss the cell out into the street where it bounces up and skitters onto the nearby sidewalk. I catch the shocked look of a girl as my phone lands at her feet.

I’m so pissed, I feel like I can’t even trust myself not to drive my car into a wall. I continue down the road, using the steering wheel to shake my body forward and back, over and over, screaming in frustration the whole time.

Great! Excellent! Now I have no phone
and
no baby! It’s all Robinson’s fault, too. Who’s that stupid? Who’s that clueless about life? I reach the next red light and slump back into my seat. Robinson, that’s who. He’s that clueless.

Of course I’m furious with him. No woman on the face of the earth would take in a child, love her like her own, and then just hand her over with a smile and a ‘Good luck, I hope things work out for ya.’ I was devastated, I
am
devastated, and I will
always
be devastated. And if it hadn’t been for
him
, that snake in a lawyer’s suit, I’d still be driving around with a babyseat in my car and diapers stinking up my guestroom.

BOOK: Mister Fixit (Love in New York #3)
4.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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