Chapter Six
Lillian rushed around her apartment, dodging her cat Mr. Fuzzy Pants as he tried to dart through her legs. She was in full-blown rush mode as she hurried to gather her things together for work. It had been nearly two full weeks since she started her new job, and she was finally getting the hang of things.
Sort of.
Margaret still gave her about as much shit as she had from the start, but most days Lillian was so on the ball that it was difficult for the older woman to find many faults. She’d found a nice sort of routine, and things just fell into place around her.
Mostly her job involved reading through documents and historical texts looking for very specific references to things the clients wanted to find. Sometimes it was family heirlooms that had gone missing over the years. Sometimes it was just artwork created by or related to family members.
Lillian knew that her new employer had started her off on easier cases, but that didn’t bother her at all. In truth, she found the job quite fascinating really. It was like a historical game of hide and seek. One document might call something a brooch where another one called it a pin. It was just a matter of matching things up.
And despite the rumors floating around about the owner and his men, she didn’t see anything suggesting they were connected to the mob. Sure, they were a bit strange and kept to themselves, but she considered that a good thing, especially after what Erik had said on her first day.
Lillian frowned. She didn’t want to think about how much his words had hurt. It wasn’t exactly like she thought they were going to be an item, but that didn’t mean it felt good knowing she had been totally shot down like that, or even worse, that he thought she was some sort of menace.
Mr. Fuzzy Pants batted at her leg. She leaned down to scratch her orange Maine Coon on the head. He meowed happily as she did so.
These last few months, Mr. Fuzzy Pants had been her only real friend. He'd eaten dinners with her and talked with her and made her feel better after particularly shitty days when she didn’t want to admit the truth. Even though she was twenty-five and made such a big deal of leaving her home, she missed it.
The weather in Minneapolis was cold. Mind numbingly so. And although people weren’t exactly rude, it wasn’t as easy to make friends.
In truth, outside of her cat, Gwen was about the only person who she talked to about things totally nonwork related. Lillian was fairly certain talking to her cat didn’t count since he couldn’t exactly tell her what he’d been doing. Although if she had to guess, she’d say eating and sleeping. Or thinking about eating and sleeping.
Lillian liked Gwen. Despite her frazzled coffee incident on the first day, she was actually the most put together woman Lillian had ever met. Everything about her just oozed sophistication, a sort that Lillian couldn’t have if she tried for a million years.
It also became very clear that Margaret had issues with just about any woman under fifty. Gwen and Lillian being the target of much of her current hatred. Fortunately, from what Lillian could tell, Margaret couldn’t wage all-out war with Gwen because her role in the company was very secure.
So instead the bitter woman refused to keep her caramel mocha pods stocked in plain view. Lillian had witnessed Margaret pull one out from a secret stash in her desk and not so stealthily slip away to the break room. Talk about petty.
The whole thing was so childish, all Lillian could do was laugh. It was totally unlike her own torture. Busywork.
The old woman would stop by on days where Lillian was really moving along and drop heaps of busywork on her desk, usually things that would force her to stay longer.
It infuriated Lillian, but she would shoulder through it. If she could prove herself in the company, maybe she could earn a permanent position and a bit more respect.
Her thoughts wavered as she thought about what it would take to stay at the job. A long sigh escaped her mouth.
At some point, she’d have to actually talk with Erik again. Avoiding him had been easy enough, but if she wanted to stay on, Lillian was eventually going to have to deal with him.
As if reading her thoughts, Mr. Fuzzy Pants meowed loudly.
"Don't you worry," she said to him. "I have no intention of letting that asshole get under my skin."
The cat purred softly in agreement.
After a moment she muttered to herself, “No matter how hot he is.”
Lillian grabbed her cup of cocoa off a side table and made her way towards the kitchen. Mr. Fuzzy Pants decided that was the precise moment he wanted to run between her legs as if they were orange cones.
She tripped over her feet as she fumbled forward, the contents of her mug spraying her in the chest. Cocoa splashed on the floor, and Mr. Fuzzy Pants yowled his annoyance with her.
"Not my good shirt," she groaned.
Lillian held out the blouse she was wearing to keep it from soaking into her bra and quickly unbuttoned it.
She tossed the shirt over into the laundry basket. There wasn't time for her to stain stick it. She’d have to deal with that after work.
Annoyed, she tossed opened her closet door and rummaged through the few articles of clothing she had. There was really only one option, especially since it was the end of the week, and the others were still drying in the bathroom. Going without a dryer hadn’t seemed like a big deal when she first moved in.
The outfit was still business casual, in theory, but it wasn't one she felt great about wearing. Mostly she stuck to skirts or pants with a blouse.
The new choice was a white fuzzy sweater dress. On a woman like herself, with boobs that were more than a handful, the dress skirted the line of appropriate, but there really wasn’t much option, unless she wanted to show up in jeans.
Lillian sighed. There was no helping it, and if she didn't hurry, she was going to be late and risk the wrath of Margret either way. She prayed it wouldn’t be a big deal.
She tossed off her pants and slipped on the soft sweater dress. It had been a gift from her sister last year, and although she loved it, form fitting had never really been her thing. Of course, that was exactly why Eve bought it for her.
Her sister was always pushing her to show off her curves more and unbutton another button. It just wasn’t her way.
Still, as Lillian looked in the mirror, she liked the look. With the soft tan leather boots and a matching thick belt, she looked more like the sophisticated woman she wanted to be.
She wound her hair back into a messy bun and was surprised at the woman staring back.
A bright smile spread across her face. She could pull this off, and most importantly, she felt good doing it.
Lillian glanced at the clock on the wall. She’d have to go at a brisk pace today, but she’d still make it on time.
She grabbed a chain from her dresser and placed the blood red necklace against her neck. The color provided a stark contrast to the tan and white. Still, it all seemed to work. And hopefully it would offer a little more luck than the last time she’d worn it.
She grabbed her purse from the couch and gave the cat a little scratch on the head.
“Have a good nap, Fuzzy.” She smiled.
A few more moments of walking and she was bracing herself for the blast of artic air as she exited the building.
Lillian opened the door and was pleasantly surprised. It was still cold out, but there was no breeze to cut through the layers of clothes. Despite the cocoa spill, it seemed like her day was starting out pleasantly enough.
Snow covered the ground, but the walkways had been cleared, and the roads plowed.
She made her way down the block. Even the foot traffic seemed a little thinner than normal. Maybe it was her lucky day after all.
A wide smile stayed on her face. She didn’t even care if people thought she was crazy as she made her way down the road. Lillian was in a good mood.
She turned the corner, narrowly missing the giant hole and construction crew that waited there.
“You okay?” one of the men shouted to her.
Lillian nodded as she fumbled over the broken sidewalk and giant hole. Just as she stepped onto the other side, the heel of her boot caught on a slab that moved suddenly. So much for luck.
She barely had time to know what was happening before she found herself being held by two large arms. Ones that she’d now become more than a little familiar with. Her heart kicked up.
Lillian didn’t even have to look up to know it was Erik. His strong arms strained against his button-up shirt. At least today she’d left the cocoa at home.
“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked softly.
More than anything, she didn’t want to look up and see the anger in his eyes that she knew would be there. Once again, she was the menace that he was having to save.
“Sorry,” Lillian mumbled while keeping her eyes averted.
Erik didn’t say anything, thankfully, while he helped her back to her feet.
After a moment, she dared a glance at him.
There it was. The anger she’d been expecting.
“What the hell is a matter with you?” he shouted above the sounds of the construction crew.
Lillian winced. This was it. She was going to be fired right there on the corner before she’d even gotten to work.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled again. “I should have been—”
“Move that damn sign where people can see it. You’re going to kill someone.”
Her mouth fell open as she glanced between Erik and the construction crew. One of the men glanced sheepishly toward her before moving the sign.
Lillian wasn’t sure just exactly what was happening but was glad to not be getting a pink slip.
“You’re really certain that you’re okay?” Erik placed a warm hand on her shoulder. All she could think to do was nod.
Maybe it was opposite day? Didn’t people do that in offices? It was the only explanation that she could think of where this made any sense at all.
“I’m fine, really,” she said softly.
His deep brown eyes stared at her for a moment. She wondered if he’d noticed her new hairdo and outfit. Or what he noticed at all. Maybe he was just trying to decide just how much a menace she actually was.
A momentary kindness? She didn’t know, but she’d take it.
“Erik,” someone shouted.
Lillian peered in the direction of the office.
Leif waved at him as he made his way over. “New shipment just got in finally.”
She could see the new arrival’s eyes as they focused on the hand still resting at her shoulder and then to her.
The heat of a blush spread across her face. Leif always seemed to find her at a time when things were interesting between herself and Erik. She wasn’t certain if it was the best or worst timing ever.
“I should get to work,” she said softly.
Erik’s hand slid slowly from her shoulder, and although she knew she shouldn’t look, Lillian felt her eyes searching for his. Something about the way he looked at her made her insides flutter.
A loud screech ripped through the air and then the sound of grinding metal.
Lillian’s head jerked in the direction of the noise. Her stomach dropped at the scene.
“Damn it,” Erik said. He whipped out his phone.
The construction worker who had moved the sign lay bleeding on the road. A large bus was pulled just to the side, the driver rigid at the wheel, his eyes wide.
Lillian moved on instinct, vaguely hearing Erik talking to the emergency operator behind her. She’d seen tractor accidents on the farm. Blood was a reality of where she lived, and she would have never made it in life if she’d been squeamish.
As gently as she could, Lillian moved to the man’s side. It was bad. Very bad. She swallowed.
Maybe if there had been more blood, she’d have a chance at stopping it, but when it came to internal bleeding, there was little she could do but pray.
The man looked up at her, pleading in his eyes.
“Hey,” she said softly to the man. “We’re going to get you some help.”
The man choked a little as he tried to reply. She placed a finger to his lips.
“Just save your breath,” she said.
Lillian glanced up to Erik who was on the phone giving directions, his brow furrowed. She glanced back down at the accident victim. The color had drained from the man’s face, leaving him with an ashen pallor.
A cold hand slipped into her own, and she gave it a little squeeze.
“You are strong,” she whispered. “You can do this.”
The man shook his head. A small tear trickled down his temple and into the thick hair there. He wasn’t that old. Maybe just forty. She wondered about his family. If he had kids. Who would be missing him when he was gone.
He gave her hand a little squeeze.
“I’m here,” she said, her own voice choking her as she spoke.
He wasn’t going to make it. The man was going to die right there, and there wasn’t a thing she could do besides make him comfortable.
“Just relax,” Lillian said softly to him, her own tears pooling in her eyes. “Think something happy. Kids?”
The man gave a small nod. She could see the sort of distant look in his eyes as he thought of them.
“Think of the day they were born,” she whispered.
Everything around her closed off, receded to the background. All the sounds just became a sort of muted distant murmur. All that mattered was the man in front of her.
“Think of that first cry. That first breath of air into the new world. How elated you felt.”
His eyes fluttered closed as she spoke. It wouldn’t be long now.
“The beautiful cycle of life,” she said. “We are all a part of it.”
Lillian didn’t know why she was saying what she was saying, but the words came freely now. As if she were reciting a poem she’d heard a million times before but just couldn’t quite remember where she’d first heard it. She just knew it was the right thing to say.
No. More than that. It was almost like it was her duty to say these things.
“You will always be a part of the cycle,” she said to him.
His breathing was shallow now.
Somewhere in the distance, the cry of sirens drew nearer, but it was already too late. He was ready. She felt it in her heart. She had to help him move on.
Lillian placed a hand on his chest as he took a final breath and felt a chill run over her as he exhaled for the last time. She glanced up to where Erik stood. Tears streamed down her face.
She blinked. For a moment, she could have sworn a bright flash surrounded her.
“He’s gone,” she said.