Page 6 of Sweet Little Thing

“Can I get you something?” I asked, walking fully into the kitchen.

She dropped back down to flat feet and spun around to look at me. “Oh, it’s you, yeah, I need some coffee and food to go. I’ve got work in an hour. . .hey, can you call a cab? Do you know how to do that?”

Work? She worked?

“Uh, I don’t know about a cab, but you could Google it on your phone. I’m sure you could get an Uber here or something.”

She sighed, breathed in, and replied: “Yeah, it would be great if I had a phone with an app. But Uber requires a card or bank attached to it, which I do not have. I have twenty bucks, and that twenty bucks needs to get me to my apartment so I can get dressed and scoot.”

This girl didn’t sound like one of Jasper’s friends. Not the Ivy League trust fund type, which were the ones I’d met so far. Unable to help myself, I asked, “Exactly, where do you work?”

She then walked over to the fridge. “I nanny for Auden Elswood’s younger siblings. His father’s second wife is twenty-seven. They have two-year-old twin terrors. A boy and a girl. That’s how I know this crowd since you’re trying to figure me out. Now, could you point me to the food?”

“Oh, yeah, I was going to make myself some bacon and eggs, you want that?”

She shook her head. “Don’t have time. A muffin and a go cup of coffee?”

I walked to the pantry and found the bakery muffins that Portia sometimes nibbled. Stepping out, I handed one to her and went over to make the coffee.

“Thank you. I’m so damn hungry.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied.

“By the way, I’m Shay. I saw you working last night. It looked as sucky as my job. But then you get to see Jasper every day. I hear he’s an amazing fuck.”

Opening the cabinet for a less expensive cup, I took one down. There were no “go cups” in this house, but this one wouldn’t be missed. I didn’t want to discuss Jasper’s sex life and had no interest in discussing Jasper. I ignored Shay’s comment.

“Do you have a name?” she asked.

I was being rude, and she was the friendliest person I’d met while working for Portia. “Beulah,” I responded. “Beulah Edwards.”

Shay scrunched her nose. “Weird name.”

I nodded because I agreed. I’d never much cared for that name, but now that my mother was gone, I didn’t complain anymore. It was something she gave me I could never lose, and as I thought of that, Shay said, “That was rude of me. Sorry, I just say stuff. I have no filter, but obviously need one.”

“No, it’s okay,” I replied. “It is an odd name—I admit it—but my mother gave it to me, and now that she’s gone, I cherish it.”

Shay looked defeated. “Damn, I’m really sorry. I should work on that. I didn’t know my mom or dad. G-maw raised me, who was the older lady who cared for us in my foster home. My sister and I were lucky. When our mom overdosed, we were placed in a home that we stayed in until well, until G-Maw passed away just before I turned sixteen. Cancer, she smoked a pack a day. Anyway, my sister was an adult then and she was given custody of me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Shay grinned. “Sorry to hear what? About my mom overdosing when I was in diapers or G-maw passing?”

“Both,” I honestly replied.

“Me too, though it doesn’t sound or appear like your life ispeach ice cream. We’re making it fine. Could be worse. Things can always lessen to worse. Anyway, I gotta go. I’ll walk until I figure out the cab thing. Someone may give me a ride. Nice talking to you, thanks for the coffee and muffin.”

Then she headed for the door in her t-shirt—a t-shirt and nothing else.

Chapter

Five

Beulah

They didn’t come inside for breakfast. People began to awaken in lounge chairs, shrubs, on the ground, and one on a float, his body half submerged in water. Several stumbled from the pool house, and the place seemed deserted right before lunch. Portia drank two cups of coffee and watched, frowning from the living room window. She then ate a bowl of fruit and said, “Beulah, go ahead,” as if she’d lost the battle and the war. I had three short hours to visit Heidi.

She didn’t want to explain to Jasper where I’d gone if he came inside. My mother’s nineteen ninety-eight Honda Civic still ran, although it had two hundred thousand miles on the odometer and appeared to have been driven a million. I kept it parked in Ms. Charlotte’s spot. If I hadn’t needed the little bit of gas in the tank to go see Heidi, I would’ve offered to give Shay a ride. I didn’t want to ask her for the money she had; my fuel was precious to me. I was given just enough every month in gas to getback and forth once a week to Among the Spanish Moss.

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