Page 12 of Perfect
I could be totally wrong. That woman might not work with Catherine. Lots of people work in offices, and Alex is a common name for both men and women. She probably wasn’t talking to Alexandria. It’s probably someone else. Even if it was her, I’ve decided to avoid her, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’m done shopping, though, so I check out quickly and head home. Only once I’m driving do I realize I’m on a road that will take me past the law office. I see Alexandria – does she go by Alex? – several blocks ahead, walking quickly up the hill into the residential area of town.
I drive slowly, watching her. Does she live alone? With her parents? Roommates? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Those last two thoughts irritate me, which is ridiculous.
I pass her and park my car at the top of the hill that runs through town, slouching down to watch her through the mirror as she crests the hill behind me. She has on large, over-ear headphones and seems to not be paying attention to her surroundings as she walks.
What does she like to listen to?
She walks past my car without noticing me and keeps walking downhill towards the south side of town. I let her get several blocks ahead before starting the car again and following her at a good distance.
Eventually, she turns down a street of run-down houses, and I watch her enter a decrepit-looking old house with peeling paint and an overgrown yard. She liveshere? I’m almost positive this house was a hovel when I was a kid, and it’s even worse now.
A minute later, the lights on the top floor go on. She lives in the attic, so I assume she lives alone. Is she single? She’s certainly not married, because she doesn’t wear a ring. Is she on any of the dating apps I’m on?
I realize what I’m doing and drop my head on the steering wheel in frustration. I followed her, which is the opposite of avoiding her. Goddammit.
I turn the car around and head home, bringing the groceries into the kitchen and starting to make dinner, berating myself. I did so much fucking work on my impulse control issues in prison, but apparently not enough. I start pulling out groceries and try to lose myself in cooking.
This is just me readjusting to being in the world again. It’s temporary. I’m fine, I just need to get back in control.
I grab my phone and check my email while the curry simmers. I’ve been checking my email a lot, but I’m not sure why until the email I didn’t realize I’ve been waiting for pops up.
[email protected], August 28, 2023, 4:45 PM:
Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson,
Please see attached the final billing statement from Dorothy Anderson’s estate and probate matter.
Please let me know if you have any questions.
Best,
Alexandria Shearer
Cairn & Reed LLP
I turn off my phone instantly. It means nothing that she emailed me right before I followed her, and I’m not thinking about her anyway. I finish dinner, eating slowly and thinking, trying to taste each individual spice in the curry. I take my time cleaning the dishes and head upstairs to my office. I’m just going to look her up, which is a thing people do.
That technically doesn’t count as giving in to an impulse.
Alexandria Shearer has no online footprint, no photos of herself anywhere, and no social media - not even an old AIM, MySpace, or Facebook from when she was younger. She doesn’t have a phone number registered, and her personal and work email addresses are new. That’s interesting, but it doesn’t matter, because I’m avoiding her.
I’m going to go down the coast or into Portland tonight and see if I can pick someone up to fuck this out of my system. It’s not technically ahealthyway to deal with my feelings, but I need to focus on anything other than how I’m starting to feel when I think about Alexandria.
I’m in control of myself, my feelings, and my impulses.
I’m fine.
5
ALEX
TUESDAY, AUGUST 29
“What are you up to tonight?” Bailey fills her coffee mug with her fourth cup of coffee as I pull my boxed salad out of the fridge.
“Um, I was thinking about checking out this trivia thing I saw a flyer for.”
“That’s cool! Are you going with someone?”
