Remind me why

Chapter Three

The weekend passed at a very slow rate. I moped around, stayed in the same clothes once I finally decided to put clothes on, proceeded to eat only take out, and watched terrible rom-com movies. Why was I moping? That is a great question. My dead mother left me a fortune, so why am I moping about it? I should be happy, planning a vacation to do whatever I want. Splurging on stuff I don’t need because I can. Heal the inner child she broke. And yet here I am hiding from everyone but the delivery guy.

I was startled awake by banging on my door. I scramble up out of my bed, to end up on the floor with my blanket wrapped around my ankle. “Jesus Christ” I mumble as I unwrap my foot from the death grip my blanket has on me and the banging continues. “ I’m coming!” I holler as I make my way to the door. I threw the door open to be met by my best friend shoving her way into my apartment. “What the hell Addie! I’ve been calling and calling. Why haven’t you answered me? You are lucky I lost my key, or I would have come in and purposely scared you!” My best friend says as she swings around to stare at me “You look like hell.” “Gee thanks Emma it’s nice to see you too, can I get you anything?” I mutter sarcastically and walk over to the kitchen bar and sit on one of my bar stools with a huff “What is wrong? Why are you mopey and looking homeless?” Emma says as she sits next to me. And stared at me waiting for me to answer. Instead, I look down and pick at the frays of the cushion on the stool. “Whatever it is you can talk to me, I can go beat someone up if a guy was an asshole, or go to your work and give them a piece of my mind if they were asses again too. I can go get ice cream and join the homelessness. But don’t shut me out and not talk to me, that’s not how we do things and you know it and you know I don't like no communication.” She says as she jabs at my knee with her finger. I sigh. I know very well she won’t give in or let it go until I tell her why I’ve been avoiding everything. That's who she is, the protective and sometimes overwhelming friend who gives it straight, but you can't help to love and be around. “My mother died Thursday.” I whispered “I’m sorry what? Repeat that again? Mother as in the mother who wasn't a mother? Or the mother who hasn’t talked to you in a decade, mother? Abandoned you as a child mother?” She questions me “Jesus”. I hiss at her “Sorry that came out harsher than I expected. I’m sorry Addie. But the truth, as always”, She says as she grabs my hand and squeezes it. “That’s not all.” I say as I look down at our joined hands “she left me stuff in a will.” “Well is that good? What did she leave you?” She stands up and grabs a water out of my fridge turns and looks at me as she opens the bottle and takes a big swig. “A house and over a million dollars.” I whisper “She what?!” Emma all but shouts as she slams her water down on the counter without the lid on it and water went everywhere, I gasped as cold water hit me in the face. “s**t sorry.” she says as she grabs a towel and starts cleaning it. "Repeat that for me again Addie I don’t think I heard you right.” Her southern accent showing through her words. “I think I heard you say your drug addicted, gambling mother left you a house and s**t load of money?” She puts her finger in her ears and acts like she’s cleaning them out. I swallow hard. “She left me a house and a s**t load of money.” I repeated her words, “Addie, are you serious?” Her mouth hangs open and wide eyes. I nodded my head at her. “Oh my god! Addie, that’s good! That’s the second-best thing she’s ever done besides having you!” She says as she circles around the counter, “Now you can finally quit your awful job and finally be able to do what you love!” “Yeah I suppose”, I say as I twist my fingers together. I suppose it’s a good thing, but why does it still feel awful? I guess it’s grief, but how do you grieve someone you don’t hardly remember or know. “Hey” Emma says as she pulls me into a hug “I know it’s hard, and I’m sorry you are allowed to be sad your mom did just pass away, but you lost her years ago. The person who died Thursday was a stranger.” She’s right, she always is. My mother died when I was thirteen years old, leaving me to find my way in this cruel world. The lady that died wasn’t my mother, only a stranger that had my mother’s name and looked like her. But the small voice of a thirteen-year old child in my head says now I will never have the mother I wanted and needed. I huff and make my way to my couch and plop down. Emma follows and plops down next to me. “Well, do you want to sit and watch some awful television or do you want to quit your job and go celebrate that you’re free from that awful place?” I look over at my best friend as she is looking at the ends of her blonde hair before giving me a knowing look. I don’t know what I would do without her. We met in a foster home. She had lived there her entire life, and I was the strange kid coming and messing it up. She is an only child and one day her parents decided to start taking in foster kids. She hated them all, including me, but one random day later, I saved her from getting grounded for skipping school. Apparently, that's all it took for me to gain her respect and favor. We became inseparable. Fourteen years later we are still inseparable. “I’ll come out with you on one condition.” I say seriously. She sits up quickly with a look of surprise that I’m actually considering going out. Sometimes that's the only cure to the homelessness slump. “Name it.” She says, trying to not get overly excited yet. “You have to write the email resigning to my boss. And I get to pick what I wear.” I say with a straight face. She starts to shriek with joy and bounce “You have yourself a deal Adaline Ray!” She says like a kid who just got told they can have as much candy as they want for dinner. I chuckle and stand up. “I am going to go shower and make myself look less homeless.” “Okay! I got an email to write on my way home to get ready for the night! I’ll be back here at 7!” She says as she scrambles to grab her bag and rushes out the door and slamming it like something is chasing her. I roll my eyes, my neighbors must hate me, I make my way to the shower and scrub myself two times. For whatever reason, my mind drifts back to the man on the street with the dark eyes. And I couldn’t help but to start to think about how he looked, with his dark brown hair that is almost black. His perfectly curved thick eyebrows, that were knitted together as if he was angry that he had to waste his time to stop and help some strange woman. The slight crooked nose, like one that had been broken before. To his scowling frown and sharp tightened jaw that was covered in a five o’clock shadow. And his very kissable lips that had almost a permanent frown. Don’t ask me how I remember all this in the midst of a panic attack I just did. Probably because the man was drop-dead gorgeous walking on the street and not riding in a luxury car, and I ran away like a child that got caught getting cookies out of the cookie jar before dinner. Talk about embarrassing, not to mention the fact I shook his hand, told him my name, then didn’t stick around to hear his. I smack my forehead as I start rummaging through my clothes for clothes. I stand there staring at all my clothes for what feels like an hour before I give up and get started on my hair and makeup. I dry my hair and throw a few more curls into my wavy hair. Then I throw on light makeup, which is just mascara and lip gloss. Once I finish, I turn back and stare at my closet. I huff just as I hear banging on the door again. It must be Emma. I open the door for her. “Why are you not dressed yet?” She says as she walks past me and heads straight for my room. I follow behind her “I was just about to get dressed before someone started banging like they are the police on my door?” I go stand back in front of my closet, and she plops down on my bed ignoring my comment "So what have you decided on wearing?” She says staring at me. “Well I can tell you I’m not wearing a dress like you’ve decided to wear, you do know its fall outside right?” I say as I turn and look at her. “Yes I do know its fall, but I’m going to be shaking what my momma gave me, and it gets hot doing that.” She says as she shakes her chest as me, I laugh and shake my head at her as I turn around and grab at a pair of dark skinny jeans. I quickly put them on and continue to rummage for a shirt. “Oooo wear that burgundy long sleeve you have that shows off the girls with some boots!” Emma says as she stands up and grabs the shirt like she was sher closet and knew exactly where it was and shoves it at me. I slip them on and grab my knee-high black boots, I walk over to my mirror and take a look at my reflection. “You look hot!” Emma says as she whistle’s “Now let’s go grab some greasy truck food before we hit the club!” I nod in agreement as we make our way to the front door.

We finally made it to the club, and it’s already super busy for being nine thirty at night. We made our way to the bar, slipping past all the people. Emma leans across the bar top and waves down one of the bartenders who's eyes find her chest before her eyes. “What can I get you doll.” The male bartender says, and his eyes drop to her cleavage again. “I need one Budweiser, a sprite vodka, and two whiskey shots!” She says while handing her card over to him and turns to me smiling. We both take a moment and look around the club. “God, I don’t know if I love or hate how busy this place is.” Emma says close to my ear. I nod my head in agreement and start to have second thoughts about coming out. Those shots could hurry up before I change my mind and leave.