Alderson Boarding House

Unexpected Call

“Damn it!” I yelled as my drink went flying from my hands. My derp of a dog had his paws on my chest and was trying his best to smother my face in sloppy dog kisses. The problem was my hands had been filled with take-out food and a much-needed cup of coffee. Said coffee was now all over the floor at my feet, but at least my food was still intact in the bag.

Sighing, I patted his head and told him to get down. Thankfully, he listened and his attention turned to licking the coffee up. I rubbed a hand over my eyes and walked to where I kept my Swiffer. I had full intentions to clean up the mess, take mad out, and then lazily watch a movie and eat my very unhealthy but tasty burger from a local bar.

As soon as I had the Swiffer in hand the ringtone from friends started playing from my back pocket. This typically meant a number I didn't know or didn't care about, was calling.

I reached and grabbed my phone and was surprised to see the name “Patrick O’Beron” flashing on my screen. I had saved it to my phone just in case anything were to happen and he did call me. It has been almost 5 years since then the man had more or less stormed into my home forcing me to sign my life away. I let out a small laugh, maybe the old woman had finally decided to take me off the will altogether.

I answered the phone as pleasantly as I could, after all the man wasn't the one I had issues with. He was just a middleman doing his job. “How can I help you, Mr. O’Beron?”

“Ms. Cordelia?” His voice was still gruff but there was a hint of surprise. I guess he didn't think I’d have the intelligence to save his number.

“Yes, Mr. O’Beron, I saved your number from the business card you left when you were here a few years ago,” I told him with some amusement leaking through my voice.

“That was a good idea, I do regret to inform you that Elise has passed away. As stated in her will you signed almost 5 years ago, everything has been left to you. You also signed an agreement that you’d move to the home and become the caretaker. How soon can you make it to Gustavus?” He was straight to the point with the information.

When can I be in Alaska? When can I be…. My thoughts froze. “She didn't remove me from the will!?!” was the only thing I managed to bellow out into the man's poor ears.

He sighed as if he has already figured I’d asked that. “No, Elise loved you very much and spoke very dearly about you. I know you may not believe this, but she missed you.”

At one point I would have believed him wholeheartedly, but now, I took it with a grain of salt. There was still the matter of me signing to be the caretaker of her home. It didn’t bother me, and I was surprised at myself by how much I still longed to return to the house.

I looked around my studio making a list and thinking out the plan in my head. “Is the house still livable and everything?”

“Yes it’s still ‘liveable and everything’, your grandmother took wonderful care of the home, as her family before she had.” He was slightly amused by me, I could tell by the way he quoted me.

“I’ll have my dog with me…” I muttered.

“A dog.” He repeated, “I don't remember you having a dog.”

“I got him during a mental breakdown a few years ago. He is a big black dog, or at least that's what the pound said '' I told him lightly, I wasn't lying. I barely even remember buying Madra, seemed like after O’Beron left and I saw the note, my body went on autopilot. Somehow ending with me waking up the next morning with a puppy peeing on my floor. “Anyway,” I continued, “we can be there in 3 weeks. I’ll have to pack and get tickets and all that stuff. Maybe sell some of my large stuff.”

There wasn’t much I’d regret selling, but the one thing I had fallen in love with was my old oak bed frame I had found online. The owner had been an older lady that was selling her things to help cover her husband's medical bills. It had been the only time I’d spent any of the money from the yearly checks. I walked away $2,000 broker with a handcrafted 18th-century oak bed worth much more.

Mentally I was already making plans and trying to figure out how to transport it, or if I would have to store it.

“I can send a moving company to pack and move all of your belongings here. I’m also able to arrange plane tickets for you and your…” he took a quick breath trying to badly suppress a chuckle, “dog.”

I was surprised he was willing to go to such an extent to help. “When should I be expecting all of this?”

“I can have you packed and moved here this Saturday, weather permitting, with the flight.” he was confident in his ability. I barely knew the man, but I wasn’t about to question him.

I’ve done crazier things in my life, I mean how was moving back into my grandmother's home at almost 23 years of age crazy? Especially compared to moving 3000 miles away from “home” at the age of 17 with nothing more than a few needed documents, 2 outfits that had fit into my backpack, and a little under $2000 to my name?

“Alright, sounds perfect, I’ll be sure to have everything ready on my end.” I ended the call and walked to my bed. I fell face-first on it and Madra joined me. I let out a sigh and turn to look at him.

“My grandmother is dead, and you and I are moving to Alaska,” I told him, letting the words process in my head as I said them out loud. Madra just laid next to me letting out a huff so I’d pet him.