Save Me (The Me Novellas) (6 page)

I bit my lip and thought hard. Was I really so desperate that I was going to answer some random ad on Craig’s List? It wasn’t like I was Jorge or the mom with the sleeping toddler, picking up furniture. No, I was about to buy myself a bedroom. A place to live. I was about to buy roommates.

My phone rang. I fished it out of my purse. Dani. I didn’t answer. What was I going to tell her? That I’d run away from the rat on the loose in my bedroom?

She called back.

Resigned, I answered.

“
Katie?” Her voice was laced with worry. “Is everything OK?”

“
Yeah, everything’s fine,” I lied.

“
Where are you?”

“
At Perkins. Studying.”

“
Oh.” She paused. “Are you coming home tonight?”

I had pretty much decided to go back there never. “Probably not,” I said. “I study better here.”

“
I didn’t know you studied at restaurants.”

“
All the time.” The lies were just spewing forth. “It’s easier. Having people around me.”

“
Oh. OK.” There was silence. “We found Hamilton. He was curled up in your shoe. He’s back in his cage. For now, anyway.”

“
Good,” I said, nodding. “I’m glad you found him.”

Dani sighed. “Me, too. We were really worried about him.”

“
Right.” I stared at the screen in front of me. The two roommates smiled back at me. They looked friendly enough. The house looked neat. And I was pretty sure a giant rat was not going to mistake my shoe for a bed in that house. “Um, I’m gonna get back to studying.”

“
Oh, sure,” Dani said, her voice apologetic. “I just wanted to make sure everything was OK. And to let you know we found Hamilton.”

“
Everything’s fine,” I assured her. We hung up.

And then I made sure everything was going to be fine. I sent an email to the contact on the Craig’s List ad, inquiring about the room.

And then I took a deep breath and swallowed my pride and texted my parents. Maybe it wasn’t too late to cash in on that offer of a loan.

SEVEN

“
It’s eight o’clock,” a voice said.

I lifted my head, felt the telltale wetness of drool on my cheek.

A waitress stared at me. A different waitress. I was still at the coffee shop. And I’d fallen asleep.

I shook my head and wiped the sleep from my eyes. “Oh my goodness. Did I fall asleep? I’m so sorry.” I could feel the heat in my cheeks.

The waitress, an older woman with her silver hair tied up in a bun, waved a hand in the air. “Happens all the time. You college kids, pulling your all-nighters.” She lifted a carafe of coffee. “Looks like you could use a cup.”

I nodded and she produced a new porcelain mug, filling it to the brim. “Let me know if you need something to eat, too.” She thrust a menu at me.

I ordered a plate of pancakes and a glass of juice. My computer was still open but had gone to sleep. I clicked the enter button and the screen lit up. My email account was still open. And there was a new message. From someone named Dylan.

Yep, room is still available. Come by any time today. I’m working but Meg and Andy will be here. They can show you around.

There was an address and a phone number.

I had an appointment with my new roommates.

I glanced at my phone. There was a message there, too. From my mother.

WTF!!!

My heart sank. I’d expected them to be a little taken aback at my request for money. After all, Dad had offered it rather half-heartedly.

I texted back.

I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to ask.

My mother’s response was immediate.

What r u talking about?

I frowned and tapped a message back.

The money.

We r happy 2 loan u money

I called her.

“
Hi, honey,” my mom said and my heart ached just a bit, hearing her voice. “How are you??”

“
I’m fine.” There was live music playing in the background, some Beatles song I didn’t know the name of. “What are you doing?”

“
Your dad is jamming with the other band members,” she said. “It's their first practice together and they sound fantastic!”

“
Awesome.” The waitress delivered my pancakes and I thanked her with a smile. “So, you can loan me the money? You’re really OK with that?”

“
Of course, dear,” she said. “It’s the least we can do. And I’m just so happy you’ve found a place to live. With roommates, even! A marvelous fresh start for you!”

“
Right,” I said. But her initial text response didn’t make any sense. “I just thought you might be mad
…
”

“
Mad about what?”

“
Well, your response
…
”

“
What response?”

“
Your text response.”

“
I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice rising to compete with the band practice.

“
Mom,” I said. “What do you think WTF means in text lingo?”

She giggled. “Oh, you’ve noticed? I’m figuring out all the abbreviations. It’s so much fun—sort of like learning another language.”

“
Yes. Absolutely. So the WTF abbreviation?”

“
Well, That’s Fantastic!” she exclaimed proudly.

I stifled a moan. “Oh my God, Mom. It does not mean that.” I lowered my voice and explained the abbreviation.

I was pretty sure I could see her blush through the phone. “Oh my goodness! I had no idea.”

“
Clearly.” I poured syrup over my pancakes and used my fork to cut through the stack. “So the money
…
”

“
I’ll transfer it to your account today,” she said. “We’re heading over to the Kidney Foundation after practice and there’s a Wells Fargo next door.”

“
The Kidney Foundation?” Old age ailments were hitting them quick in their new home state.

“
They have a fabulous thrift store,” she said. “Not as good as the liver people, people say, but they’re all the way across town. We’re going to check them out tomorrow, I think. And the dementia people. Or maybe it was the Alzheimer’s folks. I forget.”

I shoved a forkful of pancakes in my mouth to keep from pointing out the irony of her statement. I had to be nice. She was my mother. And she was loaning me five-hundred dollars.

EIGHT

I found the house easily enough. It was tucked into a neighborhood in south Minneapolis, just south of Linden Hills. A tree-lined street, the limbs heavy with budding leaves. It was a Friday morning, chilly but sunny, and a few kids played in the front yards, their winter jackets unzipped, their cheeks red from fresh air and exertion as they teetered on bikes and scooters that had spent the last six months boarded up in garages and sheds. I remembered the feeling.

I parked my car on the road and killed the engine. I gripped the steering wheel, trying to steady my nerves. I hadn’t committed to anything. All I was doing was checking the place out. That was it. It was going to be a piece of cake. I didn’t need to be nervous.

But I was.

Because I needed to live here.

I grabbed my purse and forced my legs to propel me out of the car and up the sidewalk. I got to the front door and lifted my hand and rang the doorbell.

The elfish girl answered. Meg.

“
Hi,” she said, extending her hand. “You must be Katie.”

She opened the door and I stepped inside and breathed in the scent of pine and lavender. I was pretty sure she’d just finished cleaning.

The house was as spotless in person as it had been in the pictures. The couches and kitchen table were uncluttered, the wooden floors scrubbed clean. A neat stack of magazines sat on the low coffee table in front of the couches and plants lined the windowsill, ferns and ivy and a bunch of African violets. The window in the kitchen was cracked open and lacy yellow curtains fluttered in the brisk breeze.

“
Wow,” I said, scanning the rooms. “This is really nice.”

Meg nodded. “It is. I’ve lived here for almost two years. It’s a great house. Cool roommates.”

I followed her down the stairs to the lower level. She flicked a light switch in the hallway and led me to one of the closed doors in the hallway. She inserted a key and opened it.

“
This is my room,” she said. Pepto Bismol-pink walls greeted me. A white daybed with orange throw pillows, a white shag rug in the center of the wood floor. White-washed frames on the walls, all showcasing paintings of orange flowers, mums and cosmos and lilies. They were beautiful.

“
Wow,” was all I could say. It looked like something out of a magazine, peaceful and tranquil and zen-like.

She opened another door. The bathroom. “This is shared. But the guys have their own upstairs.”

I nodded. “OK.”

She reached for a key at the top of the door frame and unlocked the last door.

“
And this is the room for rent.”

I stepped inside. It looked exactly like the photo. Clean walls. Clean floor. Massive closet.

“
We’re pretty relaxed around here,” Meg said. “I’m an artist—I share studio space over in the Warehouse District. Andy is a property manager. This is one of the rentals he manages. Dylan is a grad student at the U of M. Works part-time at a restaurant in Wayzata.”

I nodded. They all sounded cool. Normal. Like people I wanted to be friends with.

“
So, what about you?” she asked, leaning in the doorway. “What’s your story?”

I adjusted my purse on my shoulder. Where did I start? And what could I tell her without sounding the alarms? Did I just blurt out the fact that I was under-employed, I’d just broken up with my boyfriend, my parents had abandoned me and I had virtually no friends to speak of?

“
I’m a student at the U,” I began. That was safe enough. “Graduating in a few weeks, actually.”

“
Oh, awesome.” She smiled and waited.

“
My parents just moved to Florida. My dad got a new job.” Playing in a band for motivational conferences for senior citizens counted as a new job, right? “So, I’m starting out fresh. Looking for a new place to live, going to be getting a new job.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Do you have a job now?”

I knew what she was asking. Would I be able to pay rent.

I nodded. “Yes. A part-time job at a bookstore. And I have some savings.”

“
Gotcha.” The smile returned. “There’s a hundred-dollar deposit. And even though it’s month to month, it’d be nice if you had plans to stick around. We’ve cycled through a few girl roommates.”

“
Oh? Why is that?”

She shrugged. “Boyfriends, mostly. Girls move in and then hook up with a guy and next thing you know, they’re moving in with them. I’ve had three roommates since I’ve been here.”

“
I won’t be moving in with a boyfriend,” I told her.

“
OK,” she said. “I mean, guys are cool and everything. My boyfriend is here all the time.” She grinned. “But, like, if you think you’re just going to be here temporarily, maybe you should look somewhere else? We’d like a little stability here, you know?”

I knew. If there was one thing I needed in my life right at that moment—well, besides a full-time job and money—it was stability.

“
Yep. Absolutely,” I said. “So, I think I’ll take it. The room.”

She grinned. “Excellent. Andy should be here any second. He had another property he was renting out today.”

I followed her up the stairs and back into the living room. She motioned for me to sit down and handed me a clipboard with a rental application.

“
Just formality,” she said. “Andy manages this house, too, so he needs to have a record of all tenants on file. But he’s pretty laid back.”

I began filling out the two-sided form. “So, if Andy is the manager, why did Dylan email me this morning?”

“
They’re cousins,” Meg said. “And Dylan works late. He probably was the first one to check the email. Went ahead and responded.”

“
Oh, OK.” I finished filling out my personal information and started plugging in my work history. For a 22 year-old, it seemed woefully inadequate. I’d worked at a Hardee’s for a summer during high school. Six weeks at a TJ Maxx during the holiday season. And then my current part-time position at Once Upon A Time.