Page 5 of Not My Problem

I didn’t think she really would call the cops on me, not when I was pretty sure she believed that I was Jan’s granddaughter, but then again, it wasn’t like I had money to post bail if I was wrong. Besides, I wasn’t totally comfortable staying in my grandmother’s empty house anyway.

“Fine, I’ll stay with you tonight,” I said grudgingly, seeing no other choice. “But I’m not happy about it.”

“You think I am?” she asked. “If you rob me or mess up my place I will hunt you down. And if you kill me in my sleep I will haunt you every day for the rest of your life, understand?”

“What if I kill you while you’re awake?” I couldn’t resist asking. I’d always been one to dispel tension with humor.

The glare she gave me could melt steel. It also was threatening to melt my panties. Whoever this cranky suspicious woman was, I was attracted to her. More than I should be, honestly, given that she wasn’t my usual type – and given that my life was in shambles.

“You’ll get to see some tricks I learned growing up in foster care,” she said darkly. “I learned at an early age how to put grown men in their place. Taking down a skinny girl like you won’t even be a challenge.”

The funny thing was that I had no doubt she meant that. She might be dressed conservatively, but clearly Gretchen had street cred. She looked like she wouldn’t hesitate to take me out.

“Okay, I’d love to stay at your house until we hear back from my grandmother,” I said, my voice saccharine sweet. “Thank you for the kind offer.”

Gretchen

Ihad to be out of my mind, inviting a total stranger to stay at my house. This girl, whoever she was, was not my problem.

Then again, what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just leave her in my neighbor’s house, not until I had confirmation that it was okay. I had a finely tuned ear for bullshit and while it was telling me that everything Zoe said was true, I definitely needed Jan’s permission before giving someone full access to her house.

Of course I could have insisted that Zoe leave and go find a hotel someplace, but something about the way she’d attacked those crackers with cheese told me that she wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t have any money. With all my time in foster care, I recognized hunger the same way I recognized danger.

After locking up Jan’s house I led Zoe to my place. She followed me inside and I could feel the wariness coming off her in waves.

“This is the living room,” I said unnecessarily, waving my arms towards the couch. “Kitchen’s through there. I’ll show you the guest room.”

She hiked her backpack up higher on her shoulder and followed me down the hallway.

“There’s only one bathroom,” I said, pointing to the room in question. “Towels are on the shelf. This is the guest room. Ignore all the junk in here, I also use it for storage.”

Zoe looked around, taking in the stack of boxes and bins lined up against the far wall. It was a simple room with a double bed, a dresser, and a closet that was mostly full of random stuff that I didn’t want to keep in my bedroom or the living room closet. My house was built in the nineteen fifties, so it didn’t have a ton of storage.

“This is great,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”

She sounded sad and I wondered if she was uncomfortable. It had to be weird, staying in a total stranger’s house, just like it was weird for me to have a stranger staying here. Then again, it sounded like she’d been through a lot.

“Are you still hungry?” I asked. “I have some stew left from dinner.”

I saw her consider it and decide not to be a bother. I let her, despite this strange urge I had to take care of her.

“No, I’m good.”

“Okay, tomorrow is Saturday, so I’ll probably sleep in a bit. If you get up before me, feel free to press the start button on the coffee pot – I’ve already prepped it – or help yourself to anything you find in the fridge.”

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you.”

“No problem.”

I headed out to the dining room where I’d left my laptop and shot off an email to Jan, telling her what happened. Then I started doing some sleuthing on my unexpected houseguest. Unfortunately I didn’t find much. If she had social media it was set to private, and a Google search of her name didn’t turn up anything either. I wasn’t big on social media either, but I still had a Facebook page to keep in touch with old friends from school.

After hitting a dead-end playing Nancy Drew, I pulled out my iPad and read for a while. I couldn’t concentrate though. My mind kept wandering to the woman currently in my guest room. There was something about her. I couldn’t describe it other than to say I felt some kind of a connection with her. Not a kinship, although the part of me that used to be young and troubled recognized that in Zoe. No, it was more like when you find an old sweater in the back of the closet and realize it’s still comfortable. The sense that you didn’t realize you’d lost something until you found it and now that you had it again, you didn’t want to let it go.

You’re being ridiculous, I told myself. You probably feel comfortable with her because she’s Jan’s granddaughter.

That wasn’t it though. I just wasn’t sure what to do about the complicated feelings that had arisen after spending an hour with this woman. Mind racing, I headed to bed, tossing and turning until I finally fell asleep.

When I got up the next morning Zoe was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of her.