Melissa Brayden: Heart Block

“It’s in bad shape?” She played with her straw.

“Not even close. It’s a mansion, at least, and in absolutely pristine condition. It’s like no one ever really lived there. They just came by to take tours and snap photos. The warmth is completely absent. No family photographs on the wall, no greeting cards tucked away or messages on the refrigerator. It’s completely presentational.” Sarah shrugged, mystified.

“I don’t think I could be comfortable in a place like that. I don’t care how luxurious it was.”

“Me neither. I don’t see the appeal of having nice things if you never use them. I kind of feel sorry for the woman in a way and her daughters too.”

“Her daughters?”

“Yeah, she apparently has two. Her younger daughter is the one who hired me.”

“What’s she like?”

“Beautiful, successful, rich, and she knows it. Outside of that, I can’t tell you much. It must have been a cold place to grow up though. You can’t fault her for how she turned out.”

“Well,” Carmen began, tossing her napkin onto the table, “as much as I’d like to stay and talk with you for another hour or five, Roman, lord of the manor, will be home soon and complaining obnoxiously about the whereabouts of his dinner. If I didn’t love him, I’d kill him.”

Sarah laughed. “Geez, another reason I long desperately to be married again.”

“Oh, you’ll get your turn. In fact, I’ve been waiting for the right moment to mention this. I have someone who I think would be perfect for you. Before you say anything, hear me out.”

Sarah groaned loudly and nudged Carmen’s shoulder with her own as they walked down the sidewalk to their cars. “No, Carmen, no more setups. Absolutely not. They never work out, and I always wind up feeling like a failure.” So she sounded like a petulant child, that’s how she felt. She had her daughter to consider, and maybe that made her standards way too high. At any rate, she was exhausted from Carmen’s endless setups and was coming to the conclusion that she was best on her own. She and Grace against the world. That’s how it should be. End of story.

“Before you hang up your little black cocktail dress for life, just go out with this last one. His name is James and he’s an architect who works on the job site with Roman.”

“An architect?” Sarah couldn’t help but perk up a tad. An architect did sound promising—a steady job, an education—maybe one date wouldn’t hurt. “All right, all right. I can get behind one date, but don’t get your hopes up.” She sighed. “Is he free Friday?”

“I’ll check,” Carmen practically sang. “Did I mention he’s an architect?” Her eyes sparkled in matchmaker victory.

*

Emory didn’t make it to her mother’s house the next day or the two days after that. She had meetings late into each evening and was still playing catch-up from the days she’d been out the two weeks prior.

She decided to check in with Lucy on her way out for the day, knowing she’d be working late on the sales kit redesign and going over the mock-ups with a fine tooth comb. She stuck her head into Lucy’s office and smiled. “I guess you win tonight. I’m out.”

Lucy swiveled around in her chair and jokingly patted herself on the back. “It’s rare that I outlast the boss. I accept the victory proudly. I would like to thank God and Red Bull.” Her light brown hair was pulled back loosely into a clasp at the back of her neck, and she’d already removed the designer jacket and heels she’d worn to work that day. Emory knew her well enough to tell that she was settling in. “I’ve got at least another hour, maybe two, probably three. I’m proud of you for breaking away though. You’ve been working like a crazy person.”

Emory shot Lucy a wry look, smiling internally at the irony. “Says the girl who has at least another hour, probably three.”

“Hey, that’s why you pay me the big bucks. Plans for tonight? Hot date? Please say no. I haven’t had a date in months and I’ll die.”

“Nope. You’re destined to survive. I need to head over to Mother’s and see how it’s coming. I think I’ll pick up a pizza first. Starving. Today got away from me and I never caught up.” She rubbed the back of her neck in defeat.

“Did you use the service I suggested?”

“Yeah. They sent someone over. She seems competent enough. She dances.” Emory smiled as she thought back to the scene she’d interrupted earlier in the week.

“I’m sorry. She dances?”

“Never mind.” She waved off the comment. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

When she arrived at the house this time, she considered knocking so as not to startle Sarah. Exhaustion precluded those plans, however, and Emory opened the door with purpose. Hunger trumps manners, she thought. Everyone knows that.

She was impressed actually, to see Sarah’s car still parked out front. She thought there was a strong chance she would have left for the day. Apparently, Sarah shared Emory’s strong work ethic. She wasn’t in the least bit prepared, however, for the mountainous display of boxes that greeted her in the entryway. Emory gazed in amazement at nearly one hundred tightly packed boxes, stacked systematically along each wall. Upon further examination, Emory could see that affixed to each box was a typed up label detailing each and every item the box contained. As she studied one of the labels, still in amazement at the organization she was witnessing, Sarah appeared carrying yet another labeled box.

“Oh, hey, Emory,” she said cheerfully. “Better day at work today?”

“A little, thank you,” she answered absently. Her mind was still focused on the overwhelming progress Sarah had made in just the few days since she’d been to the house. “Did the agency send you help?” She set the pizza on the small table.

Sarah glanced at the boxes and then back to Emory. “No, still just me. But not to worry, I’m getting there little by little.”

“I’ll say. I can’t believe you’ve done all of this. I’m utterly shocked.”

Sarah, who now seemed to understand that Emory was impressed and not concerned, smiled. And it was a nice smile. Warm. “I just try to stay systematic with my approach so as to not overwhelm myself. One room at a time.”

“And the labels?”

“Right. I hope it was okay that I used the PC in the office to print them out. I thought it would make it easier if I cataloged each item for you, just in case. There’s a master list of everything I’ve packed and that can be cross-referenced with the box numbers located on the upper right hand corner of each label. The boxes are stacked in order as well, so if there was an item or keepsake I didn’t know to set aside for you, it could be easily located and retrieved.”

Emory didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry. Should I have checked with you first?”

“No, no. This is just more than I had imagined. I have to admit, I’m beyond impressed.” And she was. She liked the way Sarah had come in and taken it upon herself to organize such a detailed system. This woman was a go-getter.

Sarah beamed even brighter at Emory. “Thank you.” And then she appeared to relax a little. “I was worried you’d be upset. You seem like someone who likes things done a certain way.” She turned then moved back into the living room and began taping up yet another box.

Emory was intrigued by the comment and couldn’t resist following Sarah into the next room. “What makes you say that?”

Sarah gestured to Emory’s designer suit. “You run a very successful company and didn’t get there by accident.”

“True. But I could never have implemented all this. I’m the least organized person you’ll ever meet. That’s what I have assistants for.” As the comment left her mouth, she heard how arrogant it sounded. For some reason, the idea of hurting Sarah’s feelings didn’t sit well with her and she scrambled to take back her words. “What I mean is—”