Underestimated(3)

By: Jettie Woodruff


when he realized that I had disappeared. What went

through his mind when he dialed my cellphone? I didn’t

even know where it was. I wondered if anyone would

answer it. I knew he was probably beyond irate, and I was

sure that a few things had gotten broke during his

discovery.



I woke to the sun pouring in through the window.

My homemade bed must have been sufficient. I slept the

whole night without waking once. I didn’t waste time

stretching and lingering around in bed the way that I was

used to. I got straight up, brushed my teeth and pulled my

long dark hair into a ponytail. I still had a hard time

looking in the mirror without double taking. My hair had

been blonde for the past six years, and my natural brown,

seemed so distant and foreign now. My bruised cheekbone

also looked better. You could barely see it once I applied

the foundation.

I pulled on a pair of hand-me-down jeans and a

sweatshirt. That was the part about Las, I mean Indiana

that I was going to find the most difficult. It was May, and

the weather was so diverse. I could handle it, had it been a

bit different, but forty degrees different? Come on. Why

didn’t I get a choice? I surely would have chosen a

warmer climate. How were you supposed to enjoy living

by a beach when you wore a continuous layer of goose

bumps?

I had breakfast at Millie’s Diner. Millie herself

waited on me.

“Good morning. Can I start you off with some

coffee?” she asked.

“Yes. Thank you. That would be great.” I chose to

sit at the bar and thumbed through a newspaper.

“Here you go sweetie. Do you need a few minutes

yet?” The friendlier than I was used to lady asked.

“No. I’m ready. Could I get gravy and biscuits and

two slices of bacon?”

“You sure can, coming right up.”

I read through the local paper, smiling at its size. It

was a full four pages. The Vegas Sun was dictionary

compared to the Misty Bay Daily News. The front page

talked about the events planned for the year’s Summer

Fest. There would be apple bobbing, grease pole

climbing, corn hole tournaments, a wood chopping

competition, and the list went on and on for the weekend

long celebration. Saturday night would be no kid’s night,

and it described the street dancing and wine tasting events

for adults only. I flipped the page and read about the new

breast milk flavored coffee at ‘Reminiscent.’ Are you

kidding me? Where the hell was I going to be working?

Where the hell would you even get breast milk? I kept

reading and learned the benefits of breast milk coffee. I

would not be trying the breast milk coffee. I was sure of

that. Gross.

“Here you go honey,” Millie said, setting my plate

in front of me. It looked mouthwatering. Either that or my

stomach was so hungry, it would have looked

mouthwatering had it been a plate of gravy and worms. It

was delicious, and I am sure I ate it in record time. Millie

probably thought I hadn’t eaten in weeks. She refilled my

coffee cup, and I thanked her. The diner was fairly empty

and had only a few people; of course it was getting kind of

late for breakfast.

It was almost eleven. I hadn’t even started my

long list of shopping yet, let alone the cleaning that needed

to be done. I was, however, feeling a little less uneasy that

morning. I had plenty of time to do it. I may not finish in

the next three days, but I would be working mostly days so

I would just have to work on it in the evenings after work.

I was going to need something to do in order to keep my

mind from thinking too much anyway.

“Is there a furniture store around here?” I asked

Millie when she slid me a small strawberry Danish.

“There’s one over on Long Road. Is there

something particular that you are looking for?”

I took a bite of the cheese Danish. “Hmm, this is

amazing,” I told her as the warm contents of strawberry

and cream cheese teased my taste buds. “I kind of need

everything,” I smiled up at her.

“You bought Clara Bliss’s little cottage, didn’t

you?”

Clara Bliss? How was I supposed to answer that?

No. I live in a house that my grandmother left for me. That

was what I was supposed to say. That’s what Ms. K told

me to say. Who is Clara Bliss?

“Clara lived there up until about ten years or so

ago.” Millie started to explain. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“She moved to Portland to be closer to her grandchildren.

The house has sat empty for a good many years. You can

thank her for the lovely colors,” she winked, and it made

me smile.

Shew, I didn’t have to explain anything.

“Where is Long Road? Do they have pretty much