Dear Mystery Guy (Magnolia Sisters Book 1) (11 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Dear Luca,

Valentine's Day sucks, you know that? When you are stuck in a cubicle with fifteen other people around you, most of them women, and you see them getting flowers and gift baskets, one has a tendency to be envious. Not to mention all the love songs that are playing. It is nauseating today...puke-worthy...but only because you are not in my life.

Tameika, a girl at work, got a huge floral arrangement. Everybody was oohing and ahing over the gift but she whispered to me at lunchtime that she sent it to herself.  I don't know what's more pathetic, keeping up appearances to look like you have a valentine or looking like the odd lonely one.

One girl even had the audacity to ask me why I didn't have any gifts, as if it were compulsory and something was wrong with me if I didn’t. Argh. People. Irritating people, irritating day.

Anyway, on the bright side, I got my paycheck today. I spent most of the evening browsing the stores looking for a dress. When that got boring I went to the Emancipation Park and sat down. Ate an ice cream--chocolate of course--in a little nod to the day. My regular favorite flavor is strawberry.

I sat and watched until the last rays of the sun started to die down and the joggers descended on the park and I found myself thinking about Esther, in the Bible. How her life turned out. She is sort of like my favorite personality in the Bible, and I think we have certain similarities. She was an orphan. I am an orphan. She grew up in a humble household with her cousin Mordecai. I grew up in an orphanage. I guess Matron and Patricia are my Mordecai.

But God had plans for Esther. He took her from where she was to the palace of the king and then he used her to save her people. What are God's plans for me, I wonder. He obviously saved my life for a reason. I really believe I don't have back my memories yet for a good reason too.

I felt peaceful on my way home because I know that God doesn't do random. He just wants me to trust him because he can see the beginning and the end.

I am also going to conclude that I met you and I liked you, albeit from a far, for a reason...what the reason is still baffles me.

*****

"I can't believe you are leaving me in Apartment Dump Central," Keisha said dramatically. She sprawled out on the bed and watched Della keenly as she opened her suitcases on the floor.

Della had gone with Hazel to see the apartment on Sunday and had not wanted to leave. The place was better than what she had imagined. The apartment complex even had a pool.

Not that she would swim in it. She always had a thing about water ever since she started having the dreams, and she didn't like swimming. The place was also walking distance from work.

She just needed to cross one street and she was in the bustling business district of New Kingston.

She could give Caitlin the car. Maybe they could work out who would get it on weekends, but so far she didn't really need it much. Caitlin needed it more now. She would suggest it to Hazel at a later date, when she had settled in.

She looked at Keisha, a broad smile on her face. These days she couldn't stop herself from smiling. She had a job that paid way better than the supermarket and now she was living in an upscale apartment complex rent-free, and it was walking distance from her job.

Matron used to say that God was especially mindful of orphans and widows. She was experiencing that now.

"We will keep in touch," Della said to Keisha. "You will text me occasionally. And don't forget to invite me to your wedding with Scott."

Keisha snorted. "I don't know about marrying Scott, Della. It would be fine if it was just Scott. I love him and we are super-compatible, but I am beginning to think that his nosy mother is going to be an issue. I would be marrying both her and Scott. I will have to tell my future mother-in-law to butt out of our business, and that would probably shock her poor meddling heart. Can you believe that because I didn't wear the stupid pink dress, she was offended?"

Della smiled. "You can have it back. It didn't stir anymore memories."

Keisha laughed. "Ha. Funny."

Della contemplatively looked at the two boxes she had gotten to put her books in. One was smaller than the other. She decided to put her novels and other personal books in the larger box and her schoolbooks into the smaller box.

She grabbed her marker; she didn't want to have to leave anything unlabeled. It made it easier to unpack. Even though she had thought she didn't have a lot of stuff, she had accumulated quite a few odds and ends over the years.

"You are so meticulous," Keisha said, sitting on the bed and watching as Della got her stuff together. "I would just throw everything in bags and boxes and then sort them out later."

Della shook her head. "Some of these books I still need to return to the school library." She packed them in a brown envelope and wrote 'school library' on the front of the envelope.

"It would be nice if someone would mail them for me or carry them to the school. I have no time during tax season to do anything much now."

"And this book is very important." She held up her journal. "I don't want to leave it behind. I need to know where it is and differentiate it from my other accounts journals. They are about the same size."

She put the journal in an envelope and then decided to write Luca's name on it. She put a big heart at the end of the Lawson. And then paused--why not write his address? She smiled while she was writing it.

He would never get it. The journal was for her eyes only. She had poured out her heart and soul in the thing.

After three months of writing it had just a few blank pages left. She would have to  get another journal soon.

She finished writing his name and address with a flourish and put the journal on top of her smaller box with the library books.

She looked at it, at the top of the box. She had to admit she liked writing his name and address. It made her feel legitimate, as if she had a right to write it.

She rocked back on her legs and continued sorting out her books, with Keisha prattling on about Scott's mother as she half listened.

The truth was, since she started writing to Luca she had what could be termed a breakthrough in her dreams.
Just yesterday she had gotten another one where she was running after a man in the sand with a little bucket in her hand. She had been happy. It seemed as if they were beside a beach. Who was the man? Was it a family member?

The therapist had been right after all; writing had proven to be therapeutic. Writing to Luca instead of just writing in her book had been like a guilty pleasure.

She had gotten to air all her thoughts and musings about him. And she had written a fantasy or two about the two of them. She wouldn't want that to be public knowledge. Maybe she would burn the journal after she finished with it.

"Okay I am done here." She looked at Keisha. "Now for the clothes. At least you will be very happy for the closet space."

Keisha nodded. "That I can't deny."

Chapter Fourteen

Della woke up a day before Good Friday with a strumming headache. She had spent a night filled with dreams of strange places and her brain was a muddled mess. She had come in at eleven o'clock in the night and had fallen asleep with the comedy,
Cheers
, playing in the background.

It must have been a
Cheers
marathon because she woke up with the theme song playing in her head.

She got up from her king sized bed and stretched. She hummed the song and thought how appropriate it was to her right now.

'Making your way in the world today

Takes everything you've got;

Taking a break from all your worries

Sure would help a lot.' 

She glanced at her bags and boxes. She hadn't gotten the chance to pack them out yet since she had moved.

She got up and stubbed her foot on the edge of a box as she left her luxurious grand room with the coffered ceilings and French windows. Her old apartment could fit right into the room quite comfortably.

She stepped into the shower, smiling. Bathing in the en suite bathroom was a treat. She turned the shower jet to rain and put the shower head directly in her face.

She closed her eyes and held her breath. The
Cheers
theme song reminded her of the version that the young people at the church she us attended when she lived at Magnolia House used to sing:

Church, where everybody knows your name,

And they're always glad you came;

You want to be where you can see

Our troubles are all the same;

You want to be where everybody knows your name...

It made her nostalgic to visit that church. The people at the church had been pretty accommodative to the children from the home who used to visit every week.

Bless their hearts, they were a good set of Christians. The church was pretty far from where she was in New Kingston. It was some ways into the Gordon Town hills, which was pretty close to where they used to live at Magnolia House.

She would go if she had company but everybody was away, even Mike; he had texted her to say that he had gone to St. Lucia a few weeks ago. He would definitely be up for a trip like that.

Brigid had won her Cuba trip and had texted her to say she was no longer on the island. Caitlin was heading to Negril today to be with her aunt, and Hazel had already left for her Texas trip.

She turned on the hot water and then finished with cold water. That seemed to help her head a bit. She stepped out of the shower and wiped the steam from her mirror and looked at herself critically.

Her scar was looking paler this morning. It looked less pinkish and puckered. She needed to renew her cocoa butter and shea butter skin regimen.

She looked at her face critically.

Who are you?
She asked the face in the mirror. And as it was lately, a sharp pain clutched her head in a vise and she could see a man in her mind’s eye, a friendly man. He had a goatee and mustache combination. The mustache was long and full. He was looking at her earnestly. They were in front of a brick building that looked like a school. Other children were passing by them.

He crouched to her height. "Now Casey, when you go to school remember to tell them that your name is Casey Givens. You are three years old. Can you remember that?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"What is your name?" he asked again.

"Casey Givens. I'll not forget, Daddy."

The voice echoed in her head as she lost the memory. The little girl had a British accent. Had that been her?

Casey Givens.

Oh heavens, that could be her right name. The headache lingered a bit and then left her feeling weak and breathless.

Maybe she shouldn't go to work today, but then there was a final important document that she needed to send to Mallory. The name Casey Givens kept churning in her mind.  She wasn't feeling at all well. She wished that she could just stay home and research the name but of course she couldn't. She had a pile of files on her desk that she needed to put a dent in before the long holiday weekend.

*****

Della left the apartment fairly late. She was even dithering over whether to drive but thought better of it. She would probably reach later than if she walked because of the traffic on the main road and then the hellish search for a parking space.

She hurried to work, crossing the familiar streets in a daze. Was her real name Casey Givens?

How was she to know where to start in her search for answers? In the memory she had a British accent. The man, her dad, had a British accent. Was she British? Was her dad alive?

She stumbled through the day like a drunken woman.

"Are you okay?" Mallory asked her sympathetically when she walked past her cubicle at eleven. "You look ill."

"I don't feel so well," Della said, "my head..."

"Your head? Oh man." Mallory reached over the edge of the cubicle and touched her forehead and said sternly, "You feel like you have a fever. You should go home and rest. My sister had the flu two weeks ago and it was brutal."

"I don't think it's the flu," Della mouthed. "I just..."

"Don't worry about it," Mallory said briskly. "I like when my workers are well rested and healthy. I won't expect you back here till Wednesday. Trust me, I will understand. Go home now. Take care of yourself."

Della didn't even protest. Her head was throbbing again but she was sure she didn't have the flu. It was the confusion about that memory this morning and her wondering if it had been a memory or not.

She packed up her stuff and headed through the door. First thing when she got home, she was going to do some serious detective work.

Her phone beeped when she was walking along Grenada Road. She stopped to look at the message and saw that it was Keisha.

Hey Miss Della, I did a good deed for you today. I returned your library books, the ones you left in the box under the bed. I also mailed off that envelope to Luca Lawson on my way to work two days ago--forgot to tell you. He should get it by today. Now you don't have to worry about the box you left at the apartment; it is now empty. I took care of it for you. You can say thanks later. I am spending the Easter with Scott and his family in the country. Can you believe it?

No!
Della felt her soul deflate. Her heart had picked up the rhythm of her head and her temperature was shooting sky high.

No, this was not happening. Luca did not get her book. No. God, no. Nobody else was supposed to see that book with her inner thoughts and emotions and opinions spread out all over it. Especially not Luca!

Please say that I am dreaming.
She stepped out into the road, not realizing that a car was almost bearing down on her.

She was rendered unconscious almost as soon as her head hit the ground and she landed on the road with a thud.