A Beautiful Acceptance (the NYC series Book 2) Read online

  I made sure Ki took her medicine before bed, then I stayed up reading a book she told me about, but I’m not that much of a reader and ended up falling asleep during the first chapter. I explained to Ki the next morning that I tried, but she said it wasn’t good enough.

  “I must have been tired.” I propped my feet up on my desk and watched her wince when she sat down. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she grunted.

  “Need a pill? I’ll go up and get it.”

  “No, I don’t need or want a pill. They make me feel funny and tired.”

  “But they help the pain.”

  “Prescot’s coming over, I want to be awake while he’s here.” She glanced at my feet. “Why are you wearing your Chuck Taylors?”

  I wiggled my feet toward her. “It’s going to be ninety degrees today. I didn’t want my feet to sweat in my heels. That’s the fast track to Blister City.”

  “I like the casual look.”

  I glanced at my torn black T-shirt and jean shorts. The T-shirt was torn on purpose, I bought it that way. It hung off my shoulder and I wore my black bra so it looked like it was one shirt. “I do also.”

  We checked our messages, I called Josh and planned for the day. “Two envelopes, it’ll be an early day.”

  “Only two envelopes?”

  “I can make some calls, grab a few more.”

  Ki grimaced. “I feel bad that you’re doing all of the work.”

  “I’m taking the thousand-dollar check to the bank today.”

  “That’s for the security system, Lex. I need to be working, helping out.”

  “We do this together, Ki. We’re equals regardless of who does what, or how much of it.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she gripped her hair tightly. “I’m going stir crazy!”

  I smirked at her. “I hear sex can help with that.”

  Maybe I should talk to Prescot about Ki’s pent-up frustration.

  “Jesus, Lex.”

  “I still think we should hire a part-time receptionist.”

  Ki rolled her eyes. “No. Why would we need a part-time receptionist if I can’t even go out and help with the envelopes? At least let me answer the phones and emails, Lex.”

  I pretended not to hear her, or the sadness in her tone. I knew how hard this was on Ki. She needed to feel productive, useful. Still, I skirted over her comment and kept going. “Or a hacker, either one would work.”

  I knew the sigh was coming before she let it out. “We can’t afford a part-time assistant.”

  “You’re good with money, Ki; you could figure it out.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s better than saying no again.”

  The door dinged, and we both turned our heads to see a police officer walk in.

  He looked between the two of us. “I’m Officer Tamzak. Are one of you, Miss Tanner?”

  My heart stopped for a beat and my stomach hit the floor.

  I dropped my feet. “Yes?”

  He stayed in the middle of the room and held his hands together. “I need you to come with me, ma’am.”

  “Why? I don’t have a car, so I don’t have any parking tickets and if I did, I would pay them.”

  “It’s about your mother, Lana Johnson.”

  Mom had gone back to her maiden name after my father passed, another reminder of how much she disappointed me.

  “Shit,” I muttered standing up. “What did she do this time?”

  Mom was no stranger to the backseat of a patrol car. She had her fair share of arrests in the past, ranging from possession charges to prostitution. Nothing Mom did really surprised me anymore, which sucked. Hopefully, I would have enough in my account to cover any type of bail she would have. I knew I would never get the money back, and it wasn’t necessarily an investment for my future, but still, I couldn’t let her continuously rot in prison. Once, I refused to bail her out and she had to stay and serve her time. That was when Mom went from bad to awful. She went in with an associates in petty crime and drug use, but she came out with her masters in prostitution, heroin, and robbery.

  He glanced at Ki then back to me.

  “Well?” I grabbed my phone from the charger and shoved it into my pocket. “What did she do?”

  “She’s dead, ma’am.”

  I felt Ki grab my arm.

  “We need . . . um . . . well, we need you to come ID her body.”

  My mom was dead?

  I shook my head like that would erase the words I just heard. “I just saw her.”

  “When?”

  “Well, a few days ago, but she texted me the other night and canceled our plans that we were to have yesterday.”

  “We found her yesterday morning.”

  “Where?”

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry for your loss, but you’ll get more answers from the coroner than me. I was there, but—”

  “You found her?”

  “My partner and I did, yes.”

  “Where’s your partner?”

  “He’s in the car.”

  “What happened to her?”

  He took a step forward and I stepped further back. “I think you should come with us.”

  “Just tell me what happened!”

  “We found her with a needle in her arm.”

  All the air left my lungs and I felt like I was sucker punched. Was I surprised, no. Deep down, I was waiting for this confirmation.

  And that’s all I needed to know, to prove that I was right after all.

  She never changed.

  Screw her recovery and her daughter. My mother always did what she wanted to do, regardless of how it would affect others, especially me. My walls that shielded me from my mother and her screw ups came thundering back up as I steeled my heart from the last pain my mother could possibly do to me.

  “Lex, honey,” Ki softly said.

  I shook my head and looked at her. “Let’s go.”

  She nodded and didn’t ask any more questions. I didn’t care to hear anything else. It was pointless. She died chasing her last high. I saw her body, nodded my head when they asked if it was her, signed some papers, and dumped her personal belongings in the trash on the way out the door.

  Once outside, I started to walk toward the courthouse. “Lex.”

  “What?”

  I heard Ki behind me, trying to match my pace. “Where are you going?”

  “To work.”

  “We should go home.”

  “Why?”

  “Lex, honey, your mom—”

  “What about her?” I snapped. I didn’t mean to snap at Ki, and I forced myself to keep walking.

  “We should go home and talk.”

  I kept walking until she pulled on my arm, halting my steps. “Lex, please.”

  “She’s dead, Ki. Dead. What’s there to talk about? It’s not like talking about her will bring her back.”

  “The last few weeks you were good with her, Lex; surely you need time to process this.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  I started walking away and she ran in front of me. “Go home and rest your shoulder, Ki; I’ll make us some money today.”

  “Come on, Lex; don’t act like it doesn’t bother you.”

  “It doesn’t. Always knew she’d die getting high.”

  “Jesus, Lex.”

  “I’m going to work and you’re going home to rest your shoulder.” I stepped around her and went to see Josh.

  Chapter 3 – Alexa

  “You okay?” Josh asked handing over the envelopes.

  Josh ended up getting two more envelopes, so I had four now; I flipped through them looking for the closest address and put that one on the top of the pile. One of them was a bit further out of town though.

  “This one,” I wiggled the envelope. “This one is at least fifteen miles away.”

  “No one else wanted it.”

  “Do I get paid more?”

  He stood and put his hands in his pockets
, ignoring my question because he knew that I knew the answer already. We wouldn’t get paid more. “Seriously, Alexa, is something wrong?”

  “Nope.” I shoved the envelopes into my purse and thanked him. I’d have to take a taxi, but it’s a business write-off and there was nothing wrong with an occasional road trip. I made my way to the Murray Hill area and knocked on a red door of a townhome. An older man, probably in his fifties, answered the door and smiled.

  “Yes?”

  My heart wasn’t in it, I wasn’t in the mood for the chase today so I got right to it. “Are you Franklin Muscurry?”

  “Yes, you?”

  I shoved the envelope at him. “You’ve been served.” I clicked on the camera from my phone and snapped his picture.

  “What is this?”

  I turned and headed down the brick steps of the townhome. I shrugged a shoulder and called back to him, “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

  The other envelopes were just as easy and after I stopped at the bank, I hailed a cab and headed north to Mount Vernon. My phone said it was a retirement community, which could mean a resident or employee. The pictures made it look nice and relaxing. They had a pond that greeted you and then a one-way road that led into the complex and circled around it, with one way out. The grass was perfect, the greenest green you could imagine, with those crisp lawn mower lines. The buildings all matched, and from the pictures of the residents, it looked like they were happy to live there.

  I texted Ki, told her I’d be late, and then put my phone on silent. She’d want to talk about my mom and I wasn’t in the mood.

  I watched the buildings get smaller the further I got out of Manhattan and wondered what my mom was thinking in her last few seconds of life. She ditched me and ended up dead, which meant once again the drugs came first. It was always about her and how she felt. She used to tell me it was medicine; medicine to take the pain away from losing my father, but what about me? What about my pain? She never cared.

  Everyone thought I was the prettiest girl in school and I played all the sports I could. I won games and awards, but my mother was never there to see it. I went to prom, was crowned prom queen but again, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered to my mother but her drugs. As a child, I did everything to try to be enough for my mother. Enough to make her happy, to not need her medicine anymore. No matter how pretty I was, how good my grades were, how many awards I received, or games I won.

  I was just never that important to her.

  I was never good enough.

  “We’re here.”

  I paid and asked him to wait for me and he said he would for five minutes. I walked around the section of townhomes until I found number 102. The tennis courts were close and there was a standalone building next to it that had a sign on it saying pool. I couldn’t see the pool, but heard voices and water splashing and knew there were people enjoying it on this hot, humid day. I had the envelope in hand and my phone behind it, and knocked on the door. I waited a few seconds and knocked again. I had to get this done and get back to the cab before he left me.

  The door opened and someone yelled to come in. I looked behind the door and wondered how it opened on its own.

  I heard a man say, “Grandma, you can’t keep letting strangers in.”

  “No strangers around here.”

  “Miss Thomsen?” I called out.

  “In here, dear.”

  I walked down a narrow hallway that opened to the living room and combined dining room. I glanced in the living room and saw who I assumed was Miss Thomsen sitting in a chair with a blanket over her legs. “Hello, dear; can I help you?”

  I knew instantly she was the kind of grandma I wanted and missed in my own life. All of my grandparents were dead; never did get to meet them.

  She had laugh lines around her mouth and deep crow’s feet that crinkled when she smiled. She was the type of grandma that would hug her grandchildren, proudly display their pictures on her table, and brag to her Bridge friends about how smart and special her grandkids were. She was the type of grandma that would send you a card for every birthday, no matter how old you got, with a five-dollar bill and a scratch off; the type that would have unlimited amounts of Werther’s Originals candies and those special strawberry-shaped hard candies that only the good grandmas had. I bet she had soft hands, the type that clasp your own when she told stories of the ‘olden days,’ and she would never let you leave without a full meal because you’re ‘getting too skinny.’ Her place smelled like lilacs and I briefly saw a Lilac tree outside her patio doors. She was the type of grandma that wouldn’t let her grandchild starve, or be used, or steal. She was the type of grandma who would give a shit, even when no one else did.

  I already felt bad for what I was going to do.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  I jerked my head toward the voice.

  “There’s a lady present, Tap, don’t use that foul language in front of her.”

  “Tapper?”

  “Why,” he cleared his throat, “are you here?” He looked just like he did the day in the elevator. His head was still shaved, he preferred it that way, and his skin was darker than normal. He told me his father was half-black and in the summer, he got a little darker from the sun. He was delicious, always would be.

  “Um, I’m working.” I gripped the envelope in my hand and glanced at Miss Thomsen, who was smiling at Tapper Low.

  “You still serve people?”

  I nodded. So the asshole did remember me! But he spoke before I could say anything.

  “Christ, Grandma, what did you do?”

  “What do you mean, what did I do?”

  Tapper wheeled to me and grabbed the envelope and tore it open. He read it and handed it to his grandma. “Harrison is suing you?”

  She laughed. “Again.”

  “What do you mean, again, Ma?”

  She tossed the envelope on her side table. “That man’s been suing me ever since I refused his bingo invitation.”

  “Bingo?” Tapper asked, then wheeled back to where he was, which was on the other side of me, leaving me between them.

  I glanced at my phone, one-minute left.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Thomsen, but I need a picture of you holding the envelope.”

  She fluffed her short gray hair and smiled. “Okay.” She grabbed the envelope and I ignored Tapper clearing his throat again. His grandma smiled and I took the picture.

  “Thanks, my taxi’s waiting.”

  Awkward.

  So.

  Very.

  Awkward.

  What were the chances that I had to serve Tapper’s grandmother? I didn’t even know he had one. I mean, everyone has one, but he never mentioned her. But then again, we didn’t do much talking. Always too busy using our mouths for other . . . I felt my cheeks burn and I shook my head.

  Do not fantasize about Tapper Low’s mouth in his sweet grandma’s home!

  I walked back down the hallway and heard them exchange a few words but couldn’t make them out. I walked around the side of the building and saw that the taxi man was still waiting.

  “Lex!”

  I spun around, slightly caught off guard. “Oh, so, now you remember me?”

  “My grandma,” he paused, working his jaw, “invited you to lunch.”

  “Oh, um, well thanks? But I gotta go before my cab leaves.”

  “I’m,” again, he worked his jaw, forcing himself to talk to me, “supposed to drive you back into the city after lunch.”

  “You can drive?”

  “Just because I can’t walk, doesn’t mean I can’t fucking drive.” He spun around in his chair and left me standing there. I kept putting my foot in my mouth. Of course he could drive. I turned back to the taxi who waved at me to hurry up.

  What do I do?

  I wanted to apologize to Tapper, and now I had two things to apologize about so I should go to lunch. But how weird is that? Having lunch with him and his grandma, then him driving m
e home. The man hated me.

  But he still deserved an apology.

  I ran to the cab and apologized, slipped him a twenty for his time, and then slowly walked back to have lunch with Tapper Low and his grandmother.

  I smiled. Gramma Low. Grammy Low. Memaw Low.

  I giggled to myself as I neared her townhouse.

  No; he called her Ma.

  Ma Low.

  I giggled again.

  Pull yourself together, Alexa.

  I texted the picture to Josh and saw that Ki texted again. I sent another one back to her, telling her I was fine and not to worry about me, even though she would. I shoved my phone into my purse and saw that the door was open so I announced myself and walked back into the living room.

  “So glad you stayed; Tapper’s making burgers on the grill.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Maybe you can help him?” she suggested and my eyes went to Tapper.

  “Lex doesn’t know how to cook, Ma.”

  “You remembered that also?”

  “How could I forget,” he said sarcastically, wheeling past me and into the kitchen.

  “You can sit, dear.”

  I sat and instantly regretted being here. This was way too uncomfortable and beyond awkward.

  I was so nervous.

  “Sorry about my grandson’s rude behavior. He’s had a rough day.”

  “Haven’t we all,” I said under my breath.

  “Something wrong, dear?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Tap! Get some lemonade for Alexa.”

  Of course she had lemonade. I bet she made it from scratch . . . I shook my head, clearing the wholesome image from my mind and I stood. “I can get it.”

  “No,” she pointed at the loveseat and I sat back down, “you’re a guest. Besides,” she moved her head to the side and yelled toward the kitchen, “Tap doesn’t mind, does he?”

  Tapper grunted and I heard a cupboard bang shut.

  She rolled her eyes and then gave me the brightest smile. “So, dear, you like delivering these envelopes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your only job?”