Page 10 of Fish out of Water
“Aren’t you divorced?” That was another thing I’d noticed about old people.
They liked to dish out advice they didn’t take.
“I didn’t say you had to keep him.” She licked her thumb before wiping it along the side of my mouth. “Don’t you want to have children?”
“I mean, not particularly.” Kids weren’t my thing. They were messy. They were loud. They were needy.
A lot like most men I’d come across.
Mrs. Sherling harrumphed out a huff of air like I was disappointing her. “Doesn’t your mother want grandchildren?”
“I’m sure she’ll find some somewhere.” She had six kids, so her chances were pretty good. “Did you need something?” Hopefully Mrs. Sherling took the hint and realized I didn’t want to talk about crotch goblins or my unwillingness to birth out any of my own.
She looked from side to side, just like Mr. Frazier had when he came into my apartment. “Mr. Frazier left last night and he hasn’t come back.” One of her greying brows lifted. “It was around the time you were outside yelling.”
For people who were locked down by nine they managed to see a lot that happened after dark.
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” I wasn’t sure of that at all, in spite of the fact that Grant assured me it would be the case.
Mostly because I wasn’t convinced Grant actually knew.
He had a photo of him and Mr. Frazier, but what did that prove? Not much as far as I was concerned.
That’s why I was up early, headed down to the mailroom, ready to do a little investigating of my own.
“I wonder where he went in such a rush.” Mrs. Sherling was one of the nosier residents of Sweet Side Apartments, which was saying something.
If anyone would have useful information it would be her.
“Where do you think he went?” I shoved in another bite of my donut like I wasn’t overly interested in any answer she might offer.
She lifted one shoulder. “With him you never know.”
I nodded along like I understood. “He travels a lot, huh?”
“Oh no.” Mrs. Sherling leaned in closer. “From what I hear he’s got a few too many connections, if you know what I mean.”
I didn’t, but I was definitely going to act like I did. “Ohhh.”
The door two units down opened and Mr. Albertson came out with his miniature pinscher, Harold.
Mrs. Sherling immediately clammed up, resting one hand over her heart as she stepped back to let Mr. Albertson and Harold pass. She offered him a little smile. “Good morning.”
Mr. Albertson smiled her way before turning to me. “Good morning, Julia.” He pointed my direction as he walked toward the stairs. “You’re locking your door, right?”
“Yes, Mr. Albertson.” I’d come to Florida expecting to be on my own. Thinking I would finally be free of the beliefs and opinions of other people.
That’s not how it worked out.
“Well, I should get back home.” Mrs. Sherling reached out to swipe at the powdery sugar clinging to the pink fabric of my t-shirt. “You really do need to update your wardrobe, dear.”
“This is new.” I’d purchased a whole load of shorts and t-shirts when I moved, throwing out every coat and boot I owned. Trading thermal shirts and insulated footwear for flip flops and tank tops.
I freaking loved it all, and they would have to pry the neon colors and loud prints from my cold dead fingers.
I was done trying to fit into a box someone else built.
“Well.” She straightened the shoulder seam of the cotton top emblazoned with a print of the wordFloridasurrounded by palm trees. “I suppose it’s fine for the weekend.”
