Cursed (3 page)

Sarah

“Is this the last one?” Ben Carter asked as he stepped into the apartment holding a cardboard box marked ‘Living Room’ in black marker.

“Yes. Thanks Dad.”

“I see you and your mother took a tea break.” He teased as he walked by the two women, setting the box down in the corner of the living room. Sarah, and her mother Joanna, were sitting at the breakfast bar sipping Chai latte from one cup coffee maker and marveling at the luck of landing such a beautifully furnished apartment.

They had driven up from
Connecticut that morning; Sarah in her small Jetta and the Carters in their Highlander. Both cars had been jam-packed with suitcases, boxes, bags and the few odd items. Since her new apartment wasn’t far from Muddy River Publishing on Boylston Street, the plan was for her mother to drive the Jetta back to Connecticut. The Carters were staying at the Westin in Copley Square that night, a short distance away, while Sarah would be staying in her new apartment. Most of the unpacking was planned for Sunday. Luckily with her minimal amount of possessions she would be done quickly and ready for her first day at work on Monday.

Both women were startled by a loud clap and they turned to see Ben with a tired smile and cheeks red from the cold. “I’m done and I’m hungry. Let’s get something to eat.”

Sarah hopped down from the stool and gave her father a hug, her long blond ponytail swishing across the back of her UConn sweatshirt, “Thanks Dad, for all your help.”

“No problem sweetie. Just get a place with an elevator next time!”

She leaned back to look in his face and teased. "Don't you like it Dad?"

"We both love it, Sarah!" Joanna jumped in, playfully pushing her husband's arm as he picked up their jackets to leave.
She turned to her daughter while pulling on her coat and with a loving smile added, "I have a good feeling about this place. I think you are going to be very happy here."



Monday arrived as an unseasonably cold day with gray skies. Sarah felt like she had barely slept and was still getting her new routine down but regardless still arrived early at Muddy River Publishing for her first day. The inaugural meeting was with Henry to discuss her initial assignment.

The young receptionist had spiky auburn hair and a splattering of freckles
– she greeted her with a wide and welcoming smile.

“Hi! You must be the new girl, Sarah right? Welcome!”
She handed Sarah a white plastic security badge. “I’m Kerry Reynolds. I’ll show you where your desk is.”

The office was bustling even at this early hour and there were a lot of smiles and nods as she passed by her new co-workers. The tone was very different from the
New York office she had worked in – although the energy was still present, it had a different quality. It was obviously a busy and overflowing office from the rows of file cabinets and stacks of cardboard storage boxes. Even the conference rooms had stacks of boxes in the corners and on the tables.

“Here you go, Sarah.” Kerry surveyed the desk, “Let me know if you need anything.
Tracy from HR will stop by when she gets in.” The receptionist leaned in and whispered, “She’s
always
late.”

Sarah smiled in reply and set her cardboard box down on her new desk. The box held the few small treasures she had taken with her from
New York, plus a few new items she thought would make her new office more comfortable. Tomorrow she would bring the small cube space heater that Henry had recommended. The building was old and she had been told that the heating was spotty.

“Thanks. I’ll just get settled in until she gets here.”

An hour later a smartly dressed, older woman stopped by with a large welcoming smile and strong handshake.

"I'm
Tracy! Welcome to Muddy River. Henry told me all about you. I just wish I could have met you during your initial interview." She motioned for Sarah to come with her, no apologies about being late.

In a brisk walk through the office, Sarah was able to see more cubes full of her new co-workers, while
Tracy chatted and pointed out the necessities – coffee stations, restrooms, and supply closets. After the pleasantries, a few signatures, and the typical packets on 401K’s and medical plans, Sarah was finally ushered into Henry’s office.

The Muddy River Publishing offices were located on the third floor of a non-descript office building on Boylston. Henry’s office was on the corner of the building low enough to offer a good vantage point of the street. Sarah sat down in the same chair she had sat in a week ago during her interview and smiled at the bow-tied man across the desk.

“Sarah! How are you?” Henry stood up at his desk while she took her seat and then sat right back down. “Did you find an apartment already?”

Henry was the grandfatherly type to look at but a shark when it came to business. He had a reputation that he was fair to deal with, but he knew exactly what he wanted, how he wanted to go about it, and had a nose for new talent.
He didn’t tolerate people that didn’t share the same work ethic and pride in their profession as he did, and was known as someone who surrounded himself with people he could trust.

“I did, the very next day. I just moved in over the weekend. It’s a great brownstone in the South End.”

“Maybe I am paying you too much!” he teased in a good natured way.

The meeting covered a few special projects underway that she could lend a hand on to hit deadlines, and then he outlined several new projects that would be coming on board. “You will be working on one of these projects but I haven’t figured out yet which one is best suited for you. Let’s get going with the open projects and we can touch base in about a month, just before Thanksgiving.”

Henry pulled open a day timer to make a notation. She thought it was sweet he kept his calendar on paper. Then she remembered something her grandmother had said about her dear friend Henry with affection and a hint of a warning: ‘Henry is a little old school with his bow ties and sweater vests, fountain pens and avoidance of cell phones . . . but don’t let that fool you into thinking he is old fashioned and behind in the times. He is technically savvy, has a mind like a steal trap, and can negotiate with the best of them. That’s why he is where he is.’

Sarah arrived back at her desk to find Kerry had sent her an email about lunch. She dropped her notebook and HR materials on her desk and responded. She was famished and didn’t have a clue about where to eat. Kerry swung by her desk five minutes later.

“Cool! I’m glad you are coming with us. We’re just heading down to the deli.”

“I’m ready,” Sarah replied, grabbing her coat and pocketbook.

They were out on the busy city street a few minutes later and although the sun was bright it was chilly. People hurried by, but if you caught their eye they might smile slightly in acknowledgement.
Not like New York.
She had never felt like she fit in there, like she was one of them, even after living in New York for more than a year. Boston, she was finding, was a smaller, friendlier city and she immediately thought of how thankful she was of her grandmother’s gentle push. She should call her tonight.

“Here we are,” Kerry announced as they reached the door of the deli. There were two other young girls standing on the street obviously waiting for Kerry. “Hi guys, this is Sarah, the new girl at work. Sarah, this is Cee Cee and Maggie. They work up the street,” she said vaguely pointing furth
er up the wide congested street. “Maggie used to work with us at Muddy River.”

Sarah smiled at the two girls; Cee Cee was on the short side, and what her mother might call pudgy. Maggie was much taller than the rest of the group, and had long straight hair and a willowy frame. Introductions over, the group entered the deli and stood in line at the counter to order. Cee Cee grabbed a table by the window and saved it for the rest of the girls.

The lunch conversation was about boys, clubs and how hung over Maggie had been the day before and had just stayed on the couch. Sarah appreciated being included on her first day but made a mental note not to accept on a daily basis. They were nice, but not who she saw herself socializing with.

“So, Sarah, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Um . . . no. I did when I lived in New York but that ended.”

“Oh. That’s too bad. Guys can be such jerks.”

“I would have to agree,” Sarah answered good-naturedly even though she chastised herself,
how stupid was I for not seeing what Dylan was up to?

Kerry changed the subject to work and filling Maggie in on some of their co-workers. Sarah perked up and listened, trying to keep all the names straight. Kerry had an issue with
Tracy in HR, which was obvious from her comment earlier about Tracy never being on time. There was also the guy in the mail room that is in a band and speculation over one of the research assistants, Izzy who calls in sick a lot and is always late with her deadlines. Sarah had just heard the name Izzy come up with her meeting with Henry earlier and knew she was one of the researchers she would be helping.

The day was long but she felt exhilarated to be working again. Walking home gave her time to think about her day. As she turned off
Columbus and walked down Dunhill Street after work, her thoughts turned to her new landlord. Mr. Brown, or Mason as she learned, had been absent when she had arrived with her parents on Saturday morning but Mrs. Casey had been there to have her sign the lease and deliver the keys. He had not made an appearance the whole weekend yet she noticed as she left for work this morning that the boxes had all been broken down and neatly stacked in preparation for recycling. He must have done it overnight because she didn’t get them out into the hallway until late and she planned on asking him where she should put them.

Smoke hung in the cold night air from someone’s fireplace and she breathed in the pleasant woody aroma. Unexpected for the city but then again, this was more of a neighborhood and there were probably some working fireplaces. As she passed by the other brownstones lining the street, she paid attention to the subtle changes and updating that must have happened over the years. The whole neighborhood was beautiful, historic, almost regal, but as she got closer to number 28, she knew what Mrs. Casey had meant about her new home being special. Slightly larger than the rest, almost as a cap to the string of brownstones along the street, and with a well-cared for yard that wrapped around front to back, number 28 was indeed a grand old lady.

As she passed through the front gate she saw movement in the darkness from the side of the building by the alley and hesitated.

‘Hello?” she called out, hand still on the gate, pausing for confirmation. If nothing else,
New York had taught her caution.

“It’s just me, Miss Carter. I’m taking out the trash for morning.” The voice was deep and soothing. It didn’t match the misshapen man it belonged to
and, without seeing him, the voice was strangely comforting with its Irish lilt.

He stayed in the shadows, out of the light from the street, and again she had the reaction of being torn between thinking he was extremely creepy and feeling sorry for him.

“Oh! Mr. Brown. I had not seen you since I moved in. Thank you again for the apartment. I love it!”

“I’m glad.”

“Also, I noticed you handled all the boxes for me already. Thank you, I was going to ask what I should do with them.”

“No problem, Miss Carter.” It was said with a tone of finality; he did not offer any more and she got the sense he was not looking for conversation.

“Well . . . good night.” She pushed open the gate, skipping up the stairs lightly, already thinking about what to make for dinner. She fumbled with the new keys for only a second then made her way through the outer door into the building. If she had looked back, she would have seen the hunched figure half in the shadows with the porch light illuminating the droopy eye.

“Hope I didn’t make a mistake,” he muttered to himself turning back to the chore at hand. After all these years alone, he talked to himself a lot.

Her first week at Muddy River flew by trying to understand the workings of the firm, the people, where things were kept and jumping in to help on several projects. Izzy proved to be a challenge. As Kerry had pointed out, Izzy was scattered and missed a day mid-week due to a headache, and went home early on another day with a stomach ache. Izzy’s research was wide ranging but lacked detailed notes. Although she didn’t appear to be organized enough to be in research, she had great instincts and worked from the gut – following up on details others might not see as important.

The other project she was helping with was with Stanley Meegan who was as organized as they come with files for everything, spreadsheets that cross referenced, and copious notes on each and every detail. But, Stan was slow and methodical and Henry needed him to finish this in the next two weeks to hit their deadline.