Page 63 of The Summer Request
Lisa screamed back as she threw the car into reverse. She slammed into the rental car, then shakily put the car into drive, shooting forward surprisingly quickly.
Lou had reached her and bashed his fists on the hood, demanding she get out. It made her jump, and the car jolted forward, nearly running him over. She hit the brakes and hurriedly reversed again.
This time, she got past the rental car. Lou gave chase, but quickly lost her as she wildly spun onto the road, then sped off in search of help.
Twenty-five
Back on her own dime, Val elected to take the bus home from the airport. It was a long ride, particularly with her two large bags and the dirty looks people kept shooting at her.
She didn’t care. She was sick of people’s opinions.
When she got home, she was immediately hit with an unpleasant stench. Mothball-esque, almost like her grandma’s house used to smell.
Did her apartment always smell like this? Didshesmell like this?
No. It couldn’t be.
Val flopped onto the couch and pulled a pile of mail onto her lap. She’d feel better once this junk was taken care of. That was probably where the stench was coming from, anyway.
She tossed the coupon fliers, pizza menus, and offers for life insurance into one pile, and the handful of actual letters into another.
Most of these were still junk, but in disguise. She tore the envelopes and letters to pieces, setting aside a bill for a recent ultrasound. She’d found a lump and was thankful it was benign, but now she had to find a way to pay for that peace of mind.
The last envelope in the pile was large and thick. It had her ex-husband’s handwriting on it. Her heart leapt. She tore it open, scanning his words as quickly as she could.
Dear Valerie,
I hope you’re well. I’m signing over the remaining rights to your music catalog. I know you’ll put these songs to the best use, and I hope it serves you well. Wishing you all the best, always.
Yours,
Reggie
Val scoffed. Who did he think he was, taking the high road like that?
She flipped to the next page, then the next. There were photocopied pages of proof.
Pft. Val wasn’t buying it. He could have faked all of it! She’d have to show her attorney to be sure.
That wouldn’t be cheap. Maybe that was Reggie’s game, forcing her to create more billable hours for her attorney? Seemed like something he would do.
That was enough mail for today.
She took the junk and threw it into the trash, then turned to unpacking her bags. There was still enough time in the day that she could get a load of clothes washed and dried, as long as all of the machines weren’t taken. That would help her feel better.
Down she went, carrying her basket past the broken elevator, down the stairs, and into the dimly lit laundry room. There was exactly one washer open.
Perfect! Val popped her clothes in, then went back upstairs.
The smell in her apartment persisted.
She lit a candle, then, unsatisfied, threw the windows open. Someone was playing a bagpipe outside, though, so that was no good either.
Val went into her bedroom and shut the door. Maybe some music would make her feel better. Maybe an 80’s playlist?
No. That didn’t work. Every song was annoying.
She put on classical music. That didn’t soothe her either.
