Page 3 of Stolen Moments
“Eh, she was all right if you want someone who’s cheerleaderish, bubbly, and hyper-energetic.”
Susan scrunched up her face and shook her head. “Next.”
Luka laughed. Susan had become a far cry from the woman she had been physically, but it was at times like these that he felt a strange sense of relief that what made him fall in love with her hadn’t disappeared along with her golden hair. He smiled inwardly. Her big, blue eyes flashed impishly whenever she used her sharp sense of humor. Her cheeks flushed pink as she laughed, and she flashed him her wide, toothy smile. Susan had always been no-nonsense and since high school had never cared very much for cheerleader-types.
She fell silent for a moment, frowning. Luka studied her. The knit cap on her head hugged her skull tightly, keeping it warm in the rapidly cooling San Victor evening. When Susan retreated into herself like this it worried him. Soon she would go to a place he couldn’t follow her to. To have her so present and yet so distant at the same time hurt him, but he never brought it up for fear of burdening her with his worries.
Susan turned her keen and searching eyes to Luka. “Where’s the other file? Didn’t you have four interviews today?”
Luka stammered. “Y-yes, I must have left it on the kitchen table when I started dinner. Let me go get it.”
In the kitchen, he reached into his briefcase and pulled out Melia’s file. Resting his hands on the kitchen counter, he took a deep breath, confused. Had it been an honest mistake, or had he done this on purpose? His thoughts were so jumbled, he couldn’t remember.
A slight tremor shook the paper file as he handed it to Susan. Her eyes scanned the file then she looked up at him. “Well, tell me about her!”
Luka cleared his throat and frowned. “She’s—she’s qualified, I guess.”
Susan raised a painted on eyebrow.
Luka sighed. “She’s a bit, I don’t know — a bit bratty? She talks too much. Like too familiarly, like we’ve known each other for longer than we do. I don’t know if—”
“Well, that’s her then. Great! We made a choice.” As if to emphasize her point, Susan gathered the papers and tapped them on her knees twice.
Luka’s mouth fell open.
“What? The girl has spunk! I don’t want a cheerleader, or someone who’s dead on the inside. I want someone who will breathe life into this household even if I’m going to die in it, goddamn it!” Susan’s chest heaved and Luka rushed to her side, rubbing her back until her breath returned to normal.
Susan shook him off and stood up. She stiffened and looked him straight in the eye. “This ismychoice, Luka. I wanther.”
Luka suppressed a smile. Susan was stubborn and there was no arguing with her when she decided to make a stand. Despite her petite stature, Susan was a formidable woman. Her never-back-down attitude had attracted him starting in high school when in an act of protest and defiance against animal cruelty she had released over a dozen frogs from the science labs into the cafeteria.
“Okay. I’ll call her.”
“Call hernow. I want you to call her now.” Susan sighed, then smiled. “And then when you bring me my dinner in bed, I’d like you to tell me why you think she’s bratty and when her first day will be.” She made her way to the master bedroom, dragging her slippered feet every step of the way. When she closed the door, he picked up the phone.
* * *
Melia sat at the kitchen table of Victor’s apartment. She leaned her head on one hand while she circled personals in the newspaper. There hadn’t been a lot of patients needing in-home care lately, and she wasn’t making ends meet. She sighed, fighting back the tears. This was not how she had imagined her life ending up. She circled another ad, looking for a part-time barista in a local hipster coffee shop.
Great.
After the interview had gone so badly, Melia had sat in her car feeling sorry for herself for a few minutes. Then she had driven out to the beach and dug her toes into the sand. She listened to the melancholy call of the seagulls and the quiet rush of waves breaking on sand. She still couldn’t fathom what had possessed her to touch a potential employer. No matter how she spun the situation, it all was heartbreaking in some frustrating way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
When the setting sun had cast the sky in orange, pink and purple light, she got up and made her way to Victor’s apartment. She wasn’t one to mope and that wasn’t about to change now. She had grabbed a neighbor’s newspaper from the entrance of the building and set to work looking for a part-time job to hold her over until the next patient.
The phone rang and Melia let it go to voicemail. She had long ceased to pick up the phone after the first few times she’d forgotten to relay an important message to Victor. Her hand froze as she heard his voice come over the answering machine. She jumped up and ran to grab the phone.
“Hello?” she all but screamed into the receiver.
“I—uh, it’s Luka Rossiter.” He seemed unnerved at the sound of her voice.
“Yes, I know,” she said, immediately regretting it. She’d have to add learning phone etiquette to her ever-growing list of personal resolutions.
“I was calling to let you know that my wife has chosen you. She’d like, you, uh, to be her…to be her home aide.”
Melia opened and closed her mouth a few times, unable to speak.
“Hello?”