Pieces of it All (20 page)

Beth jumped up. "We're fine, really. Just a little argument. Thank you for your concern." She took out her cell and started typing.

"What are you doing, Beth?" Harvey asked.

Her eyes never leaving the screen of her phone, she kept typing. "I'm texting Lucy to come pick me up."

The man reached out toward Beth, and Harvey shoved him away. "I can sit with you while you wait."

"I don't think so," Harvey demanded. What did this asshole think he was doing? He didn't need some guy swooping in and saving Beth. And from what? Harvey wasn't dangerous.

"It's okay. I'll hang out on the benches until my ride comes." Beth pointed beyond the parking lot. "Thank you, though." The man's eyes lingered too long after Beth replied. Harvey pressed his fingers together and spread them apart again, fully prepared to knock the fucker out. "Harvey, my aunt needs the music box back, also."

How the hell did she find out about the music box?

"You sure?" He began jogging in place, and Harvey noticed ink on his arm, a smudge of some sort. Looking closer, a wave with goggles hanging off the tip was exposed. What the fuck? Damn weirdo.

"She's sure, dude. Get the fuck out of here." The man ignored Harvey and waited for Beth's assurance she'd be fine, and then went on his way.

Unfortunately for Harvey, Beth did as well.

Chapter Twenty Four

Beth was sick of it, sick of it all. Harvey. The thefts. The lying. The best thing to do seemed like getting out of town and joining Heather at school early in their apartment. The conversation with her parents went a lot easier than she anticipated. Her dad's eyes lit up at the idea, more than likely glad it meant getting far away from Harvey. He figured living off campus with a friend and no adult supervision still was better than being alone with Harvey for only an hour or two.

As excited as she was to start fresh, she didn't entirely want to leave. Her dad sucked at cooking, and she doubted he even knew where to find a broom. Her mom's broken arm limited her capabilities, and she insisted Beth go. He would have to drive her mom to school, keep up the house, and his job, even though she'd attempt to do everything. Her mantra was accentuating the positive, doing anything she could to brighten the mood. Days when Beth stayed home from school sick, her mom always found something fun to do. She laughed now at the irony of her mom's choice in horticulture, considering some of the activities they did together. Beth recalled one morning waking up with a sore throat when ten years old and she stayed home from school.

"Do you want to color, sweetheart? Let's make some flowers on this beautiful spring day!" Her mom pulled the curtains back on the patio door, the sun filling the kitchen.

Beth tried to agree with her, but only nodded since her throat was so sore.

They sat together at the table with pads of paper, a box of crayons and scissors. "I like tulips. Should we draw some tulips?"

Beth watched as her mom drew the flower, from its rounded bottom to its broken eggshell top. She drew a long stem and triangle stems on the side to match. "Perfect. Now, why don't you color this in? You've always been excellent with coloring."

She took the box of crayons, carefully selecting her colors. She passed the blue, pink, purple, and finally settled on orange, the brightest and cheeriest of the bunch, and in Beth's opinion, the most overlooked of the color wheel. The petals transformed into a vivid flower with each stroke of the crayon, the lines guiding her into the shape. Once she completed the flower and stems were complete, her mom clapped her hands together, as she always did when she was excited. "I have a wonderful idea!"

Beth handed her the paper and she started cutting. She focused as she cut, slow with her movements as to not damage any part of the tulip. "Done!" She had cut the flower out perfectly from the paper.

Her mom drew four more, and Beth colored each of them, all a different color. When finished, they took tape and connected them together at their leaves, and hung them on the patio door. "There! We brought spring inside today!"

Beth giggled, and the hoarse sound made her mom laugh. "I love you, Beth. Even when you're sick, we still have so much fun together." She hugged her tightly.

No matter what the situation entailed, her mom found a way to handle it. A caregiver by nature, she refused Beth's help. Beth wondered if maybe she didn't do a good enough job. Or did Harvey breaking Sue's trust reflect on her, and her mom didn't trust her to stick around? Screw the guilt by association crap. Of course Lucy had been right. Damn it! She'd been
right
. Harvey wasn't who she thought and she got hurt. Everything made sense. It wasn't that her mom didn't want her help. She probably agreed Beth better not be tempted by Harvey.
Damn them!
A laugh or a cry - she didn't know which was more appropriate, so settled on a sigh.

The heat wasn't letting up, so her parents insisted she take two bottles of water in the car. "I'll be fine, Mom." They stood outside the house, Beth with the car door open, ready to head out on her new journey.

Her dad kissed her on the cheek. "Drive safe, kiddo." He picked up her last suitcase and put it in the trunk. "Don't be a stranger."

"Dad, I'll come home for Labor Day weekend, I promise."

Her mom covered her mouth. "I don't want to cry," she said. "I told myself I wouldn't."

If she started crying, Beth would too. Driving and crying weren't the best combination. "I love you, Mom." She hugged her from the side, careful not to bump the cast. "Let Dad take care of you."

Her dad put his arm around Beth's mom. "I won't give her a choice." His face turned serious. "Don't text or use your phone while you drive. Make sure your doors are locked at night. Travel in groups. College can be a dangerous place."

"Trust me, Dad. I'll be careful." She ducked into the car and shut the door. A long wave later and she went on her way.

She arrived in Morgantown after an hour and ten minute drive, but it took twenty minutes to find the apartment complex as she weaved in and out of one-way streets. Finally she found the building buried at a dead end. She despised one-way streets, almost as much as parallel parking. Lucky for her, she slid into a spot right in front.

The building stood three stories tall, covered in worn, red brick. The facade was dotted with small bay windows, framed brown, and in the center a solid forest green door demanded attention. Her heart skipped a beat at the reality that she was sitting in front of her very own apartment. An apartment! Hours ago she lived with her parents, still a child. Now on her own, reality set in. Finally, she could call herself an adult. She grabbed only her purse. Her suitcases and bags could wait.

She tried the door, but it wouldn't budge, something that would make her dad happy. She read down the names on the intercom to find the apartment. As she slid her finger down the numbers, she eagerly bounced up and down until she the name Stewart/Overland popped up. Apartment Twelve. She rang the bell.

"Yes?" The voice on the other line asked.

"Heather, it's me, Beth." She sounded much too anxious.

"Oh, yeah, you're here! I'll come down."

She clutched her purse as she waited, watching the empty street. A jogger passed by and waved. She tapped her fingers on her handbag, trying to decide if she should ring the bell again. Heather always took her time. Too much time. Her makeup had to be perfect even if only to peek her head out the door. Beth couldn't stand to wait any longer. The door opened as she went to press the bell again.

Heather's black curly hair flowed over her shoulders like she stepped out of an
Herbal Essence
commercial. "I'm glad you decided to come early. It'll be so much fun having a roommate!" Beth almost tumbled over when Heather squeezed her into a boisterous hug.

"I can't believe I'm here!" Beth finally let out a squeal. "I'm so excited!" They jumped up and down and Beth pulled away, ready to get into the apartment already. She didn't want to stand out on the porch all day. She took a step toward the door.

Heather moved out of the way. "Well, come on in. Welcome home!"

Home. Wow. She
lived
here. This must've been how the people on those HGTV shows felt when they searched for houses - exhilarated and frightened!

A small set of stairs greeted her as she walked in. On the right-hand side mailboxes filled the wall. She glanced at the names: Doran, Michaelson, Walks, Makowski, Flanners - the list went on for thirty tenants. Her neighbors. Beth and Heather were on the second floor.

"No elevator, huh?" Beth asked as they headed up the stairs.

"Nope. It's only three floors and we're on the second, so we don't need one."

Carrying groceries up would suck, but she'd get exercise that way. "I'm so glad your dad let me share the apartment with you."

"No problem. He didn't want me staying by myself and I have a second bedroom. Besides, he always liked you. He was happy to do it."

"As soon as I get a job, I'll be able to pay rent, too."

"Girl, please. Don't worry. I'm not even paying rent. As long as we stay out of trouble, my dad will cover the apartment."

Trouble was the furthest thing from her mind. Even though she didn't steal anything, she accepted some responsibility for Harvey's actions.
She
insisted he come with.
She
let him wander the houses alone. Trouble? No, thank you. Give her a book and point her to the nearest library.

The apartment was adorable. They entered directly into a split living and dining room. The larger part of the room had a picture window overlooking the street. The walls shouted a light shade of purple, decorated with a few paintings accented with white frames. A black leather couch and a matching recliner lined the wall. Set back close to the line between the hallway and living room was a wooden rocking chair, its seat reupholstered with modern fabric. A flat panel television hung on the wall opposite the couch. The tiny dining area had only a breakfast sized table in the center, a chair on each side. To the left was a kitchen large enough to fit just one person comfortably while cooking.

"Let me show you your room."

Two bedrooms were adjoined, a bathroom in between. Beth's room was on the right, the same side that looked over the street. Heather's dad already furnished the room, with a twin bed shooting out from the corner, and a dresser against the wall.

"What do you think?" Heather asked.

"I love it!" No lie. She couldn't contain the excitement of living on her own.

"It's only four. Why don't I take you around campus and afterward we'll get something to eat?"

"Sounds good to me," Beth agreed, ready to take on her new life.

Chapter Twenty Five

If it was in the house, Harvey drank it. Two cans of beer in the refrigerator gone, and one and a half mixed drinks settled in his blood. Fuck Beth. Fuck his father. Fuck Maggie. Fuck everything. He didn't give a shit he stole the ring. Those people had more money than they knew what to do with. Dr. Naise could have purchased a new one and that bitch Leslie could have picked up another music box at any gift shop.

He jumped when his phone dinged, hoping Beth occupied the other side of the line. The number didn't ring a bell. He pressed the Ignore button, only for the ringing to start again minutes later. He should have turned the phone off. The thought of a conversation with anyone irritated him. One thing sat on his to-do list today: get drunk and pass out wallowing in his sorrows. What was the point? Beth pretty much told him to fuck off, so fine.
No one
else was even worth his time. The one person worth wasting breath on wanted nothing to do with him. "What?" He answered.

"Harvey?"

"Who the hell is this?" He took a last swig of his drink. The voice didn't sound familiar.

"Your boss, Nelson Anderson. Why aren't you at work?"

He glanced at the clock. 9:07. His shift started an hour ago. "Fuck. Okay. I'll be right in." He pressed the End button and dropped his hand on the bed, tossing the other arm over his face. Oh, what he'd give to have Beth laying next to him. The sheet clenched in his hands, he let out a scream, and then stared at the door, waiting for his father to come barging in yelling at Harvey for the racket he made. When nothing happened, he realized he was alone.

A run in with him this morning would've been a disaster. Shit, once his father saw he guzzled every last drop of booze, all hell was going to break loose. He was fucked. Big time. It made no difference right now. He had to get to work or he'd be fucked there, too. He sat up in bed and looked down. Jeans and a
Theory of a Deadman
shirt. Nelson would deal with the pants, but not the tee. He quickly changed to a plain black polo shirt, and headed out the door, not even bothering to brush his teeth.

The sun blinded him as he stumbled to his car. He fumbled through his glove compartment, dropping papers and other items on the floor. "Gotcha!" he proudly said as he slid the dark glasses on. He reminded himself to drive carefully, and not too slowly, as he pulled out of the driveway. He couldn't afford a ticket or drunk driving arrest. Through the years, he'd gotten pretty good at handling a car after drinking. While he'd fallen off the wagon, what he drank in the morning didn't come close in comparison to his limit. If he kept his cool, it'd be a breeze.

The drive took five minutes longer than usual, but Harvey managed to arrive without police presence and with the car in one piece. The heavy brakes almost caused him to bump his head into the steering wheel. "Damn straight parking," he complained as he landed in a spot.

Nelson met him at the door. "Harvey, you have to move your car. You can't park like that."

He glanced back at his car, almost tipping over. He was in between the lines, sort of, so who cared? "Looks fine to me."