Page 24 of Her Alien Neighbor

She turns to me, her nose scrunched. “I don’t have a copy. I just know when my time is. It was with the pickup instructions for the urn.”

I stare at her, confused. “So there will be people just showing up to spread Aunt Franny’s ashes? And there’s no way for me to know when they’ll be here? What if I’m not home?”

She pauses at the door, leaning against the frame. “Well, it’s not like you’re out and about all that much when you’re here. She probably figured you’d stay in, and it’s not like she had a ton of friends, so I can’t imagine it’ll be that many.”

I suppose that’s true, and with the treasure hunt, it makes sense for Aunt Franny to throw this unexpected wrinkle my way. She seems to enjoy doing that. “Yeah, okay. Give Janey a smooch for me?”

“Yep,” Willa says, waving at me without looking back. “Later, kid.”

I return to the kitchen to eat my sandwich, and once my belly is filled with carbs and sugary goodness, I climb into bed for a nap. Lying there, I expect the sound of a power saw to blare from Axil’s shed, but it doesn’t. Perhaps the work he’s doing today doesn’t require obnoxiously loud tools. He could be sanding the rough edges of a chair or whittling a design into a coffee table. Or maybe he’s not in the shed at all.

It takes several more minutes of pondering what he could be doing, and why I care how he spends his time before I nod off.

When I wake up, it’s to the sound of my phone vibrating on the nightstand. There are texts from my agent, Tia, about an audition for a “supporting role: goofy, unattractive/fat best friend type for rom-com.” The project is for a major streaming service, which would be good exposure, but the audition is next week, and there’s no way I’ll be able to leave and come back. There’s too much to do around here.

Plus, the part sounds insulting. I’d be willing to bet the last few dollars in my bank account that there’s at least one fat joke in that script.

Me:Pass. Can’t make it back in time,I text Tia.

She responds immediately.

Tia:Totally understand. Sending you hugs!

Then there’s a text from my mother.

Mom:You’re at Aunt Franny’s right? Can you see if that hussy stole my emerald necklace? The one your father gave me for our eighth anniversary.

My eyes continue a steadied roll for a full minute. Mom and Aunt Franny never got along, Aunt Franny even took a bottle of champagne to Dad’s house the day the divorce was finalized, but the womanjustdied.

Me:IDK, Ma. Haven’t seen it. I’ll keep you posted, though.

There’s no use trying to point out her lack of tact. She’ll just get defensive and start listing the ways Aunt Franny treated her poorly. Then it’ll turn into a whole thing and I’m not in the mood to deal with it.

The final unread text is from my boss, Pamela, from the dive bar back in L.A.

Pamela:Hey honey. Just checking in. Are you back in town next week? If so, can you take the closing shift on Tuesday?

Ugh, I forgot to tell her I needed more time here. The problem is that I have no idea how much time. Pamela’s understanding, and incredibly sweet, but I doubt she’ll be okay with me requesting an extended leave with no end date. But I can’t leave her hanging either.

Me:Hi Pam! I’m so sorry, but it looks like there are some loose ends to tie up here. My aunt left me her house, and it needs tons of repairs before I can sell it.

Me:I have no right to ask this, but can I let you know when I’ll be coming back? I’m not sure how long it will take to get everything done, but I can’t leave until it is.

I take a deep inhale.

Me:Totally understand if you want to fire me. I’m not exactly Employee of the Month material right now.

The three dots appear, indicating that Pamela is typing, and my heart feels like it’s climbing up my throat. I start typing too, unable to stand the anticipation, offering to work doubles when I come back with several more apologies peppered in just as her response pops up.

Pamela:Girl, relax. I’m not going to fire you. You’re one of the best bartenders I’ve got. Take all the time you need.

The breath I didn’t know I was holding whooshes out of me, and I start laughing at the intense peak of nerves my anxiety just took me to.

Me:Thank you so much! I’ll be back as soon as I can. I appreciate you.

Pamela sends me a kissy-face emoji, and for the first time since I arrived, I feel relieved. At least this aspect of my life hasn’t gone to total shit.

I pull myself out of bed and start looking through Aunt Franny’s dresser drawers for the letter she said was in here. It feels weird rifling through her bras and underwear, but what else am I supposed to do? The sneaky old bird refused to give me a hint.

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