"Officially? No. Unofficially? Yes."
"What does any of this have to do with me?" I asked and hoped he didn't mistake my directness for being rude. But I shouldn't have worried. If anyone understood the way I felt about my mother, he did.
"I suppose nothing. I assumed you'd gotten wind of the case and were calling to talk about it."
I wished that was why I was calling. But I had a big problem that was only going to get bigger if I didn't find a solution in the next few hours.
"Nope. This is the first thing I've heard about her in years."
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, his entire demeanor changed. "What's wrong?"
"Why do you think something's wrong?" I asked, trying to buy myself a few seconds. I was prepared to start my spiel when he first answered the phone, but most of my bravado disappeared while we were talking about my mother.
"Because you never call. And you just used the oldest stalling trick in the book. What's going on, Aspen?" he demanded.
"Uh, well, I was supposed to move into a new apartment tomorrow, but there's a problem, and I don't know what to do."
"Tell me the problem, and we’ll fix it." Just like that. I wanted to bask in his confidence and comfort. And wished I had the right to.
"There was a mix up with the paperwork, and the new apartment was leased to someone else. They don't have another one available until next month, and my current place has already been rented as well."
"It's their mistake. You're a current resident. If they gave your new apartment away, they need to let you keep the one you’re in until they rectify the mistake. Do you want me to make a call?"
"That might've worked, but it's not the same complex."
"Neither place has any availability?" he asked in disbelief.
"Nothing for a few weeks. No one does. Apparently, we’re experiencing unprecedented growth." Not that it mattered much since it was going to take a few days for my security deposit to be returned, and what little savings I had left over wasn’t anything to brag about.
“When do you have to be out of your place?”
“I’m supposed to turn the keys in by Monday morning.”
“Damn. They sure didn’t give you much time.”
“At least I figured it out today instead of tomorrow,” I said, repeating the same thing I’d been telling myself in a weak attempt to stay positive.
“You figured it out?”
“Yes,” I said and tried to hold back the tears threatening to return. “I called to see when I could pick up the keys to the new apartment, and after a good bit of back and forth, they told me my application had been withdrawn and the apartment had already been given to someone else. They tried to help, but there wasn’t anything they could do.”
“Well, shit, Aspen. I know it’s probably not what you were hoping for, but the house in Devil Springs is just sitting there. You’re more than welcome to stay there. Always have been.”
The house in Devil Springs he was referring to was the house he and my mother shared for the few years they were together. It was the house we were living in when she was arrested for the charges that ultimately put her in prison. Originally, it was a rental property, but he bought it after my mother’s arrest so that I wouldn’t also lose my home while the rest of my life was being flipped upside down. He’d done a lot of other things for me over the years, but buying the house for my stability showed me he was more of a parent to me than my own mother was.
“You obviously won’t be able to keep your job, but I’m sure you can find something in Devil Springs. Unless you’re planning on moving back to Cherryfield when an apartment becomes available.”
“No worries there. I got fired when I went in for my shift tonight.”
“Yougot fired? How?” he asked in disbelief.
It shocked me too. During the two years I worked at Schroder’s Pub, I’d never missed a day of work, never been late, and had zero customer complaints.
“I called my boss earlier today to explain my situation and asked if I could have the night off. Dickhead Darren said no, so I asked if I could come in an hour or two late since it wasn’t usually busy at the beginning of the shift. He said, ‘No. I’ll see you at the regular time.’ I left for work like I usually did, but for the first time since I started working there, I was late. Fifteen minutes. He didn’t even give me a chance to explain before he pointed to the door and told me to leave. So, I turned around and came back home to keep working on my living situation.”
“You don’t sound too upset about it,” he said carefully.
“I’m not,” I said honestly. “Darren is a relatively new manager, and I really haven’t been happy there since he started.”