Page 11 of Secret Admirer

What the hell is going on?

I stand at the front, looking out the windows long after he’s out of sight. It isn’t until Trixie places her hand on my shoulder that I break out of my fog. “Has he gotten crazier since you guys stopped dating?” She pushes a strand of hair out of my face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I shake the confusion out of my head. “That was strange.”

“He’s a total psycho. Please tell me you see it now.” Her eyes plead with me to see reason. What I couldn’t or didn’t want to see while we were together.

“I saw…something.” Something I couldn’t put my finger on. “Another good reason for me to have that awesome security system. If he finds out where I live—”

“He won’t. How could he? I heard him mention your apartment.” She shrugs, unapologetic for listening in. I don’t care that she heard what we said. It’s not as if I wanted to talk to him anyway. “If…you feel like he’s following you then maybe drive by your apartment. Hell, walk inside if you feel like you need to. Whatever you need to do to be safe.”

“IfI feel like someone is following me I will. Although I’m not sure how I’d know.”

“You,” she points at me, “need to start reading more mysteries.”

I can’t help but laugh. I’m pretty sure they’d only make me paranoid and I don’t need to be any jumpier than I already am. “I really don’t think reading more is the way for me to base my safety. I bet most of them aren’t true to life. What happens when I try something in a dire situation, and it doesn’t work? I’m fucked.”

Trixie rolls her eyes at me. “Use common sense. I’m not saying to live your life based on a mystery novel.” Moving closer to the window, her face is almost plastered against it. “Do you see your homeless guy over there?” Her eyes narrow while she bites on the inside of her cheek. “What’s he doing in the trees?”

I squint from the sunlight, but I do eventually see someone in the trees across the street. It looks to be a man going off his height because whoever it is, is extremely tall. I can’t help but remember how much taller he was than me the one time we met. “Maybe he lives in the trees.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Coco. He’s not Tarzan,” she cackles, placing one hand on the window to hold herself up.

This time it’s my turn to roll my eyes at her as I head back to my station to clean up. I’ve got one more client for the day and then I’ve got to hit the grocery store. My cabinets and refrigerator are bare and I’m tired of having to eat out every night. Since my place is a little outside the city limits, no one will deliver except for a couple of pizza places. Otherwise, I have to drive a half an hour one way for takeout.

* * *

With a smile on my face, I’m responding to a message from Trixie as I walk from the parking lot to the front of the store. Someone had trashed the pumpkins out in front of the store last night. Trixie had driven by earlier on her way to hot yoga and called me as she ranted about the youth today. It would have been funny if it were someone else, but Trixie takes pride in her store, and for someone to smash and smear the remains of the pumpkins all over the windows pissed her off.

I never understood who started the insane competition that went on in Oasis for the holidays. Everyone, and I meaneveryone,decorates. It doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor. You decorate the shit out of your house, cottage, or apartment. A few years ago, the businesses didn’t like being left out and started decorating and hosting a competition. Luckily, it didn’t apply to all of them, only the Fourth of July, Halloween, and Christmas—but there were still those who went all out for Easter, Thanksgiving and a few others.

Trixie is set on winning one or all in a year. No one has won all three, but if you do you get a parade or something. Since it’s never happened, I’ve never known for sure. They can do whatever they want as long as they don’t expect me to participate. I’m shocked she hasn’t suggested I decorate my house yet. I know I won’t get away with it for long though, and she’ll require me to have my house all done up for Christmas.

I can’t hold back my gasp when I stop in front of Tricks to see the mess is cleaned up. You’d never know anything was amiss except we have no pumpkins at the entry, and we had five of them painted and glittered to the extreme.

Maybe I misunderstood Trixie when she called, and she meant they were missing?

No. I shake my head as I inspect for any orange pulp. She had been pissed about having to clean up the mess on her day off, so I offered to come in early. My smile comes back when I see a bunch of little purple flowers made into a bouquet and tied together with a rope made from what looks to be grass. It’s beautiful and makes tears well up in my eyes. Picking it up, I sniff the flowers and am met with a best smelling floral fragrance I think I’ve ever encountered.

Now that I don’t have to clean up a nasty mess, I start to open up Tricks and get ready for when Trixie drops off the new pumpkins. I hope she remembers to bring something to decorate them with since we used up everything when we decorated the first time.

Standing behind the front desk, I’m on the computer putting in an appointment when the bell over the door jingles and in walks Trixie.

“Girl, you did a fabulous job cleaning up that mess. I was not looking forward to getting pumpkin bits underneath my nails.” She wiggles her fingers in the air showing her bright purple coffin fingernails.

“As much as I’d love to take credit for the cleanup it wasn’t me. It was like that when I got here.” I notice the crazy tall and hairy homeless guy carrying two large pumpkins and putting them in front of the window. “Why is he carrying your pumpkins?”

“Ourpumpkins,” she turns to watch him walk away. “He wanted to help and who am I to deny him his charitable duty?”

My hands instantly land on my hips as I look at her. “You better pay him or offer him lunch. Something. You shouldn’t take advantage.”

“You need to get laid and stop giving me sass. If you’re so worried about him why don’t you go out there and help him.”

“I will.” I raise my chin high and walk out to see him with two more pumpkins bigger than the last in his arms. His biceps bulge from the effort and strain his white t-shirt.

He stops the moment he sees me and looks at the area on the sidewalk where he left the other pumpkins.Does he think I’m here to stop him?I take a few steps back and watch as his tanned muscles bulge in the most delicious way as he sets them down.

Without a word, he heads back to the parking lot, toward Trixie’s car. Her back-passenger door is open, and I see the whole backseat is filled with orange and white pumpkins. Did she buy out the store?

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