Cursed (4 page)

By Friday, she was starting to feel the rhythm of the office and was nodding hello to co-workers, starting the coffee in the kitchen area when she arrived early and got compliments from Stan – “Finally! Someone who is organized!”

Henry stopped by her desk Friday morning, dressed in a striped shirt and navy sweater vest. He was holding a cup of coffee that smelled faintly of vanilla and was smiling warmly at her. “Hello, Sarah. I wanted to stop by and see if how your first week was going.” Sarah noticed the quiet guy in the next cube pop his head over the partition to see Henry, who never stopped by to speak with people in this area.

“Great Henry, I’m really enjoying the work.”

“I’ll be meeting with you soon about your own project, Sarah, but so far Stan and Izzy have had all good things to say. Especially Stan
, and coming from him that is a huge compliment,” he added with a wink to let her know that Stan doesn’t give compliments lightly.

“Yes, Stan has a lot of good processes and our work styles are similar. But I have really enjoyed both projects.”

“Keep up the good work. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to stop by.”

“Thank you, Henry.”

Henry walked away, nodding and greeting each employee he passed and Sarah smiled to herself. He really was as nice as her grandmother had assured her and she was happy she had made the move here.

She turned back to her email. Only a few, but she was new and knew enough to appreciate the light communications now because she was sure it would change. There was one from Kerry and she opened that first because of the subject line: Bagel Friday. The email read:

‘It’s Friday – and that means its Bagels for Breakfast! The company buys. Let me know what kind you want and if you want to take a walk with me to get them.’

Sarah tilted her head and tapped her pen absentmindedly against her chin, but her stomach won out in only seconds. A sesame bagel sounded perfect right now, so she grabbed her coat.

They left the office and walked over to the bagel shop quickly. It was just after nine o’clock and the crowds on Boylston were starting to thin. As Kerry was rechecking her list, Sarah walked up to the rounded glass case and peered in at the assortment of bagels. As she was eyeing the seasonal pumpkin bagel on display a voice behind her cut into her thoughts.

“I wouldn’t go with that one if I were you; it’s not as good as it looks.”

Sara turned to the woman behind her to see if this comment was actually directed towards her. Clearly it was, and the woman added quietly, “I saw you eyeing the pumpkin. I made the same mistake yesterday.”

“I
was
considering that one! How did you know?” Sarah grinned, returning the strangers wide, friendly smile. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“No worries. I take my bagels seriously.” The woman chuckled at her own comment and Sarah found herself laughing with her.

“We’re next, Sarah!” Kerry called over to her while waiving. Sarah turned to the woman with the jet black hair and bright blue eyes and said thanks again before joining Kerry at the counter.

“Who was that?” Kerry asked
peering over her shoulder at the exotic looking woman.

“No one I know. She just told me to stay away from the pumpkin bagels.”

“I could have told you that! Yuck-ky! If you like pumpkin, stop at a Dunkin’ Donuts for their coffee and donuts. Mmmmmm!”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The woman behind the counter took their order and barked out commands to the girls running the toasters. Twenty bagels; some toasted, some not; some with jelly, most with cream cheese. They paid for the warm bags and made their way back out to the street. The door to the bagel shop was adjacent to the entrance of their building and they quickly made their way back up to the office.

Sarah ate her sesame bagel and compiled notes from the photographer and cover designer for Izzy’s project. That girl needed help and it was no surprise she was late arriving this morning. She breezed by Sarah on her way to her desk, mentioning toothache but still she had her wax paper wrapped bagel in hand. Sarah nodded good morning but didn’t engage in a conversation.

The call from her mother came after lunch, surprisingly on her office phone instead of her cell phone.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Oh Sarah, there you are. I tried your cell and you didn’t answer.”

Sarah looked at her phone and noticed it was off.
That’s strange
she thought. “Sorry, I guess it was shut off. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you want to come home this weekend. I thought if you did I could pick you up after work and get you down here tonight.”

“No mom, that’s too much driving! If I wanted to come home I would take the train, anyway. There’s plenty I can do at the apartment, and I want to explore the neighborhood a little and do some shopping. Don’t worry about me.”

“Are you sure sweetheart? I don’t mind. You don’t know anyone there yet and I don’t want you to be lonely.” Concern was evident in her mother’s voice.

“Mom, really, I’ll be fine.”

The conversation drifted to updates on her father and who she saw at the library while Sarah grew increasingly fidgety. Finally, she reminded her mother that she had to get back to work. Sarah looked at the picture of Rex her dog on her desk while wondering,
what am I going to do this weekend…?
before diving back into the website she was researching.

At the end of the day as she walked along the sidewalk to the T station, she passed a small grocer's market, with pumpkins in the window. She stepped closer to the brightly lit window and gazed in at the seasonal display, deciding she wanted one for the apartment. There wasn’t one on their front stoop and she thought this might be a nice gesture as the new tenant.
I could carve it this weekend
, she thought with a smile.

Pulling open the door, she stepped into the warm shop. The pumpkins were much smaller than what she would get at home in the suburbs of
Connecticut. She picked up the largest one available and inspected the almost perfect shape and the stem that was curled over like a handle – just the way she liked them. She paid the high city price for the glorified squash and was back on the street with her purchase within minutes, holding the pumpkin against her belly like a pregnant mother.

By the time she made her way up
Dunhill Street, she wished she had chosen a smaller pumpkin. Climbing the front stairs, she bent over and placed the pumpkin next to the pot of purple mums by the door. The outside light perfectly illuminated the new arrangement and she smiled, pleased with her purchase.

The door opened and a couple stepped out into the chilly evening, the man holding the door for his wife.

“Oh! How lovely!” the woman said looking at the pumpkin nestled up against the mums.

“Thank you,” Sarah said, returning the woman’s smile. The woman was much older but possessed a youthful twinkle in her eye and ringlets of crazy curls. Sarah immediately liked her. The husband was very tall with thick white hair and a prominent hooked nose.

“I’m Sarah Carter,” offering her hand to the woman.

“Hello, Sarah. Nice to meet you. I’m Melanie Baldwin and this is my husband, Gregory.” She looked adoringly up at her husband.

“Hello, Sarah” Gregory said, leaning his tall frame over and extending his hand. “So you are the new tenant. Where are you from?”

“From? Um, I’m from Berlin, Connecticut. But I've been living in New York for the last few years.”

“Ah, yes. A New Englander. That’s good, but, what was in
New York?”

“Don’t mind Gregory.” Melanie said giving her husband a playful slap on the arm. “He’s always so inquisitive. So, we would love to have you over for tea.
We’re in apartment 2B.”

“I’d like that,” Sarah said and meant it. It would be nice to get to know some of her neighbors in the building. Someone other than just Mr. Brown the landlord who was a little scary and very unsociable.

Melanie clapped her hands in excitement. “Wonderful! If you are available Sunday afternoon we take tea at three.”

With her only plan being the carving of the pumpkin, Sarah quickly accepted and they said their goodbyes.

Sarah arrived at apartment 2B at precisely three o’clock on Sunday,
and softly knocked on the mahogany door. Gregory answered and, with a slight bow, welcomed her into their apartment. As Sarah entered, she noticed the apartment layout was a bit different than her own, and she admired the period look with ornate moldings, built in cabinets and working fireplace that Gregory had returned to tending.

The front window in the living room was the same elegant shape as the first floor and in it was a built-in bench with a round table, already laden with a three tiered stand
with petite sandwiches, tea cups and a small platter of madeleines. Melanie came into the room carrying a tea pot and creamer.

“Sarah! I am so happy to see you again! Come in, sit down please, tea is ready!”

Gregory led the way to the table, offering Sarah the cushioned bench with the plush pillows before taking one of side chairs. Melanie joined Sarah at the other end of the bench and busied herself with pouring the tea and explaining the different finger sandwiches.

A short time later with the crackling fire and tea warming and soothing her, she felt comfortable with her newly met neighbors.

“So, I have a question for you,” Sarah started tentatively, “how well do you know our landlord?”

Melanie’s perpetual smile waivered and she snuck a sideways glance at her husband.
His face was impassive, and at first neither spoke. Finally, Greg cleared his throat and put his tea cup down in its saucer.

“Our landlord, Mr. Brown, is a quiet fellow, as I am sure you have gathered,” Greg started. “I can’t say we really know much about him.” Sarah glanced at Melanie.
Her smile was gone and was staring into her tea cup.

“Oh, well, I just thought since you have lived here for many years that you might have gotten to know him.”

“Mr. Brown is more of a night owl . . . we tend to go to bed early so our paths don’t cross that often. He is a wonderful landlord though; keeping the place in good repair and Melanie enjoys the flowers and the roses in the summer.”

Melanie’s smile returned as looked up at Gregory. “Yes, he does always keep beautiful flowers around.” She finally met Sarah’s eyes. “He is a lovely man, just very private. I was sick once and he had to come in to fix something during the day while Gregory was out. He didn’t expect me to be in – Tuesdays are usually my bridge club with the ladies.” Melanie leaned in close and in a conspiratorial tone added, “And we have a little wine.”

“More than a little, sweetheart.”

Melanie giggled, “Yes, more than a little sometimes, dear. Anyway, he came in and I caught sight of him in the sunlight.” Melanie shuddered violently. “I always knew he had the limp and hunched body, but I didn’t realize just how bad the scarring was. It wasn’t even just scarring . . .” Melanie shook her head remembering, her golden curls fluttering around her face. “He has some sort of other skin condition, too.

“I had been in my room and he was working in the kitchen on the sink. Mr. Brown had removed the jacket he wears even in the summer months and was under the sink with just a t-shirt. The scarring was all down his arms and there were lumps and bumps. Like huge boils. The poor man scrambled into that jacket so fast and pulled his military cap down low over his face. But not before I saw that one of his eyes was hooded with skin and the other was such a brilliant blue green color . . . beautiful really. I didn’t know what to do but apologize and scurry back to my room.”

“Yes, the poor fellow. I’ve never seen him. But everything is always done. He’s friendly with a landscaping company that drops plants and flowers off and I guess bills him. I don’t really know how he survives without ever leaving here. I mean, doctor's appointments, groceries . . . he just doesn’t seem to leave.”

Melanie and Greg looked at each other and then Melanie promptly smiled and changed the subject with “did you try the madeleines? It was my mother’s recipe.”

“Thank you, yes, they are delicious.” Sarah sipped the last of her tea and replaced the cup to the saucer, “I should probably get going; it’s late. Can I help you clean up before I leave?”

“No, dear, I am fine. It gives me something to do.”

The three stood and Sarah thanked the couple for an enjoyable Sunday afternoon.

As she climbed the stairs to her apartment, her mind turned back to her landlord. What a terrible thing to live with a disfigurement so severe that he hides . . . how old was he when this happened, she wondered, whatever it was. She fished the key out of her pocket, letting herself into her new apartment leaving her thoughts of the landlord in the hallway.

“I understand. . . .Yes . . . no problem.” Sarah was busy taking notes while listening to Izzy’s flu symptoms and directions by phone. Sarah needed to do to complete the project, on time, by tomorrow.