Moira
By
Prudence MacLeod
Smashwords edition
Copyright / Prudence MacLeod / August 27 / 2001 / All rights reserved.
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Clean Break
There was no use crying, Marta knew she dared not go home. Those two goons would be waiting for her just outside the building. She had been lucky enough to hear the two bouncers at the sleazy bar where she worked as they planned to give the “lezzie” a taste of a real man. Right, just what every lesbian needed to turn her around to become the perfect subservient sex toy that all men dreamed of. No thanks. Marta made a run for it, going the opposite direction from her boarding house.
Marta was five foot five and very slim. Considered by most to be quite attractive, she had been labeled as a lesbian because she would not date any of the bar’s employees or patrons. “Ok, so the label is accurate, so what, that gives them the right to rape me?” she asked herself bitterly. Oh well, she had lived on the streets often enough before, she could do so now. Marta knew she could never go back to her job or to the rooming house ever again.
Crying as she huddled in the back of an alley out of the rain, she clutched her only possession to her breast, a lottery ticket. She had spent her last dollar on it. If anyone ever needed a break from Lady Luck, it was Marta Hookstra.
Two days later and soaked from the rain, a half-starved Marta walked back into the convenience store and asked them to check her ticket. The clerk’s jaw nearly hit the counter as the machine gave the numbers. “You’re a winner,” was all she could say as she passed the slip to Marta with shaking hands.
Marta looked at the numbers then nearly fell to the floor. She was weak from hunger and had to grasp the counter for support. “I have to call the papers,” exclaimed the clerk suddenly coming to life. Marta bolted through the door and vanished into the throngs of people on the street.
Several hours later a ragged woman climbed the stairs of the lottery center. Her head was down and she looked like any other street person. The throng of reporters paid her no attention at all. They were expecting to see a limousine and a battery of lawyers. As they intently watched the street, the eighty million dollar winner climbed the stairs and vanished into the building.
It took quite a while for the process to work. They made her wait for some big shot or other to show up and present her with the cheque, then she had to face an interview. “Just what is the first thing you are going to do with all this money?” asked a loud interviewer.
“Spend it,” she snarled through her hunger and fatigue, “every damned cent of it.” Marta took her cheque and headed for the door, but word had reached the street that she’d already cashed in the ticket. They were waiting for her as she emerged.
“She’s coming,” Marta gasped as she grabbed a female reporter by the coat. “She’s coming out right now. Look, there she is.” Marta pointed to a well-dressed woman who was leaving the building. As the poor woman was swarmed by reporters, Marta Hookstra vanished into the throng on the streets once again.
An hour later, in an upscale shopping district, a street woman approached the bank teller and asked to open an account. Within seconds of showing the cheque, she was in the manager’s office. As soon as her identity was verified her account was opened, she had a bank card, and was on the street again. This time her pockets were full of money, two thousand in small bills.
After a good meal, she returned to the mean streets, bought a small old car and rented a dingy apartment. Marta’s hair had been dyed red, so she bleached it blonde. Keeping out of sight and pretending to be a street person, Marta waited. It was months before the ads in the newspaper stopped. “Marta, please contact Cousin Mary etc.”
“So where the hell were all you people when I was just a poor orphan living on the street?” she asked bitterly. It was several more months before the reporters and sales people stopped showing up as soon as she would use a bank card or an ATM. She laughed silently as they continued to look for a rich woman, never even noticing the street girl walking past them.
Finally, she felt safe enough to put the wheels of a new life in motion. She applied to change her name, and as soon as that was finalized, Marta Hookstra was ready to vanish forever.
Looking at the package of hair dye with disgust, Marta shook her head firmly. “Not this time, or ever again. Those days are now officially over. It is the end of September and it is time to dye no more.”
For the past seventeen months Marta had lived like a pauper, hiding alone in her dingy apartment. Marta had spent most of that time teaching herself to act and speak like a well-educated rich woman, yet nothing had been allowed to spoil the image she had chosen to project. Today Marta Hookstra would vanish forever. By tomorrow morning, Moira Branwen Mafanwi Jones would step onto the scene and her new life would begin. Today was transition day; from this moment on she would transform herself into Moira Jones, rich kid from the west coast.
Moira sighed as she looked about the apartment. Eighty million dollars growing moldy in the bank and she’d had to live like a pauper for seventeen months. Oh well, she would be yesterday’s news by now. Her name change was complete and she had all her new ID except the new driver’s license which she would get this morning. “To hell with the blonde dye,” she thought. “My roots are pretty long, I’ll go get my hair cut really short and have the DL picture taken as a natural brunette.”
She tossed the dye into the garbage and scooped up another box. Grunting as she fought her way through the door, she made her way to the parking lot and her battered old car where she deposited her burden. At five foot five and one hundred and ten pounds, Moira was not built for carrying heavy boxes up and down three flights of stairs.
“Moving out?” asked a raspy male voice behind her.
“Just getting rid of some old junk,” she replied as she locked the car door and walked back toward the stairs. “Two more boxes and I drive away forever,” she thought as she climbed back to the third floor. Twenty minutes and two boxes later Moira fired up the old car and pulled slowly away from the grungy old apartment block for the last time. She drove slowly to the main upscale shopping district where she parked the rusty old beast of a car then marched into the nearest hair salon she could find.
“Can I help you?” asked the haughty woman at the reception desk.
“Yes you can. I need a cut and a dye job, I want my own color back.” she dropped her head and showed the woman her roots.
“Well, we are rather...”
“I need it now,” said Moira in a no nonsense voice. “I will gladly pay whatever you need to make it happen.” She pulled a roll of large bills from her battered purse and peeled off three hundreds. “Will this get me started?”
The woman took two of the bills and passed the third back to Moira. “This will be sufficient,” she said with a smile. “You will want some for a new outfit I imagine. I must apologize for my manner.”
“No problem,” replied Moira somewhat more relaxed. “I am a bit on edge myself this morning. I have to get my driver’s license picture done today and I really want it to look good for a change.”
“I quite understand,” replied the woman easily as she motioned to the chair. “May I recommend the dress shop right next door? It is operated by a personal friend and she tells me she has just gotten in a brand new shipment of this season’s latest fashions.”
“Sounds wonderful,” replied Moira as she relaxed into the chair. Gods, it had been so long she had forgotten how good it felt to have your hair done. “I’ll definitely check it out. The new outfit is on my ‘to do’ list right after the haircut.” An hour later she emerged from the hair salon with her hair cut into a short bob and back to her natural dark brown. Smiling with delight Moira fairly danced the few steps to the dress shop.
By twelve fifteen, Moira walked out of the Department of Motor Vehicles, her brand new driver’s license with her new image on it, clutched tightly in her hand. She got back into her old beater and drove to a nearby auto dealer. “I’m looking for Henry,” she said to the salesman who approached her.
“I’m Henry,” he smiled, “are you Miss Jones?”
“Yes I am,” she replied with an answering smile. “Do you have what I asked for?”
“Actually I have three cars for you to choose from, Miss Jones,” he said as he led her toward a group of new cars. “These three right here. I have the keys with me, which one would you like to test drive first?”
“The red is out,” she said. “Red attracts too much attention. Which of the other two has the bigger engine?”
“The hunter green, it is fully loaded with every option available.”
“Very good; can we register it right now and insure it as well?”
“Of course, Miss Jones,” he replied a bit surprised, “but don’t you want to drive it first?”
“No need, I’ll be driving it plenty in the near future. That is the car I want.”
“As you wish. Right this way, Miss Jones.” He led her to his office where they concluded the sale. She was then taken to the insurance agent who arranged for the insurance and the stickers.
“I’ll have one of the boys put your plates on the new car for you,” said Henry pleasantly. “Shall I ask them to transfer those boxes too?”
“Please do, Henry,” replied Moira, “and thank you.”
In surprisingly little time Moira had cleaned out her old car and was driving away in her new one. She smiled to herself as she pulled out into traffic. “New hairdo, new clothes, new car, new ID, new life coming right up,” she smiled to herself. “At last I can truly say life is good.”
Moira drove slowly, getting used to the new and larger car’s responses. Finally she came to a highway interchange. “East,” she thought, “I’ll go east until I hit water.” She turned onto the highway and pushed down hard on the accelerator. Somewhat startled at the power of the car she allowed herself to feel the thrill of acceleration until she reached the speed limit where she set the cruise control.
“First town I come to I am going to stop, buy some music and figure out how this darn CD player works,” she said to herself. An hour later she pulled off the highway and into a small shopping mall. Moira bought half a dozen CDs and drove to the nearby Ford dealer. “Can you show me how to work this CD player?” she asked the salesman as he approached her. Moira gave him her most winning smile.
“It would be my pleasure,” replied the older man pleasantly. A few minutes later, she was back on the road again with the music blasting and the window down.
Moira drove until near dark, then stopped and took a room for the night at the first motel she found. She was on the road again at dawn. Through city after city, town after town, day after day she drove onward until she reached a place that billed itself as the city by the sea. Still not satisfied, Moira turned north. Late the next day she ran out of road as she ran out of daylight.
The clerk was making polite conversation as Moira signed the register. “Miss your ferry, did you, ma’am?”
“Not really,” replied Moira as she finished signing her name. “Where does it go anyway?”
“Why, that’s the Newfoundland ferry, ma’am,” she said, astonished that anyone would be in the area who was not really looking to ride the ferry.
“New found land,” said Moira slowly, smiling as she did so. “Sounds like a place I should like to see.”
“Would you like me to make a reservation on tomorrow’s ferry for you, ma’am?”
“Yes, please do. Will you need to wake me early in the morning tomorrow?”
“No ma’am,” replied the girl. “It leaves at noon and you get in at Argentia about dawn next day.”
“Dawn the next day?” asked Moira with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes ma’am, they’ve had some trouble with the high speed boat, so...”
“The slow boat to Newfoundland?”
“Yes ma’am,” grinned the girl, “the slow boat to Newfoundland.”
Moira settled down in her motel room, all booked to go on the noon ferry. “A sixteen hour ride to a new found land and a brand new life,” she thought to herself as she opened the map of Newfoundland that she’d bought at the counter.
“St. John’s is the largest city,” she said softly to herself. “It is a lot easier to get lost in a crowd. St. John’s is where I will start my new life. I’ll become a Newfoundlander. What did she say they call the folk of that city? Townies, I’ll become a Townie.” Moira was good at picking up accents and knew she would have little trouble blending in. Give her a few weeks and no one would ever know the difference.
Off the Mainland
Brenda Tuttle suddenly sat up in bed, her eyes wide open. It had been the dream again. She knew it was the same dream, but she could never remember any of it as soon as she awakened. With a resigned sigh, she lay back on the sheets and tried to get back to sleep. She failed.
Looking at the clock, Brenda groaned and sat up again. Swinging her long legs out over the bed, she reached for her slippers with her toes. Finding them at last, she stood and tottered to the bathroom. Soon the hot rushing water washed away her sense of gloom and brought her fully awake. With a sigh of delight she turned off the water and stepped from the shower. Brenda stretched her five foot ten inch frame as tall as she could and then relaxed. She flexed each well-toned muscle group in turn until she was completely limber then toweled the remaining water off her body.
“I don’t know what is coming over me,” she sighed to the blonde woman in the mirror. “I have had this sense of doom for weeks now. I think I will call Calan MacLeod today and get her thoughts on this.” With that decision made, Brenda turned to the really tough decision, what to pull out of the closet for today.
It was late in the day and Brenda was working at the gym for her brother Tony so he could take his wife Tanya to dinner. Suddenly, she had the strange sense of anticipation again. It was stronger now and Brenda was getting concerned. “Dammit, I’m going to call Callie right now,” she said as she walked over to the reception counter. It was a slow day and no one would mind if she made a personal call. “I’ll use the cell anyway,” she thought as she retrieved her purse. “No sense tying up the business line.”
“So that’s about it, Callie,” sighed Brenda as she finished laying out her experiences for her friend, Calan MacLeod. “Do you think I am crazy?”
“No my dear,” laughed Calan. “I don’t think you are crazy. I think your destiny is almost upon you.”
“My destiny?”
“I had many of the same feelings just before I went to Halifax where I set my world records and met Angela,” said Calan gently. “Explore those feelings, Brenda, and I think you will find that they are feelings of great anticipation. I believe something wonderful is about to happen for you.”
“Do you really think so Callie?”
“Count on it,” laughed her friend. “Relax and enjoy the ride, Brenda. You cannot hide from your destiny. Just keep your eyes open for something wonderful.”
* * * * *
Moira climbed from the car deck to the promenade. She bought a St. John’s newspaper and settled into a lounge chair. Pulling out the real estate ads, she laid aside the rest.
“You not want the rest of the paper?” asked a gentle male voice. She looked up to see a man in his mid-thirties smiling hopefully at her from the chair opposite her own.
“Later,” she replied, “right now I want to study this.” “Be friendly Moira,” she admonished herself as she saw the look of disappointment cross his weathered face. “The new you, remember?”
“You can read it if you like,” she smiled, “just save it for me.”
“Thanks, Missus,” he smiled reaching out and retrieving the bulk of her paper. “Planning to buy a house?”
“Perhaps,” she replied with a smile, “it depends on the price.” No sense giving away the whole game now. “You know how it is.”
“Sure do, my love,” he replied. “I sure do. You’d do well to call my ex-wife. She’s a real estate agent.”
“You’d recommend your ex?”
“Aw, Brenda is a good girl. It isn’t her fault it didn’t work out, that’s just the way it is. She is an honest woman Brenda is, she won’t steer you wrong. That’s her ad on the back there.”
Moira flipped over the ads to see a picture of a very attractive blonde woman smiling at her. Brenda Tuttle was the name beneath the picture and there was a series of phone numbers where she could be reached. Moira circled the picture and went back to her studies. After a while he replaced her newspaper and stood up. “Time to stretch my legs,” he said. “Thanks for the loan of the paper.”
“When I meet Brenda Tuttle, who shall I say recommended her?” asked Moira.
“Billy Doyle ma’am,” he said extending his hand.
“Moira Jones,” she replied shaking the proffered hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Doyle.” He smiled warmly and walked away. Moira returned to her paper.
It was late the next day when Moira parked her car at the Holiday Inn. “Just get in to town ma’am?” asked the clerk as she checked Moira in.
“I got in on the ferry earlier today,” replied Moira. “I’ve been lost at least twice, but finally found my way here. I’ll be staying a few days, perhaps even longer so just let me sleep until I wake up.”
“Very good ma’am, I’ll put you in a quiet room on the end so you won’t be disturbed. That ferry ride can be murder, I know. Is this your first trip to St. John’s?”
“Yes it is, and I think I will settle here, just so I don’t have to go on that damned ferry ever again.”
“We do get a few immigrants that way,” laughed the clerk. “Here is your key ma’am. Jimmy, watch the desk for me will you. Let me carry that for you ma’am. Right this way now.”
At noon the next day Moira emerged fresh from a long sleep, a hot shower, and with a brand new outfit. Moira Jones was ready to tackle her first day in St. John’s. She had several objectives in mind and hoped to accomplish at least one of them today.
“Did you sleep well, Miss Jones?” asked the clerk as Moira made her appearance.
“My gods are you still on duty?” asked Moira, surprised to see the same girl at the desk. “Did I not sleep very long at all?”
“Oh lord no, my dear,” laughed the girl. “I have been home, had a night’s sleep, and come back to work. I suppose you are hungry now after a good night’s rest.”
“Famished,” smiled Moira. “First I am going to explore the menu in your restaurant then I want to explore your city a bit. After I eat I’ll come back for some directions.” It was nearly an hour later that she returned from the restaurant.
“I think I am ready to face the world now,” she said with a smile. “Can you please point me to the nearest post office?”
“Just take that road out there until you see a shopping mall come up on your right,” replied the clerk. “There is a postal outlet in the drug store on the top floor.”
Moira thanked her and drove to the mall. A bit of exploring took her to the postal outlet where she was lucky enough to get a P.O. Box right away. Moira now had a St. John’s address.
Feeling a bit like a citizen, Moira set out to explore the mall. She soon found what she wanted; an electronics store. A short time later she was back in the corridor with her brand new cell phone in her purse. She now had an address and a phone number. “Two down and one to go,” she thought, very pleased with herself. “Now for a bank.”
She had noticed a couple of banks just down the street from the mall and set out to reach them. It was more difficult than she expected, but she realized that learning a few back streets would make that a lot easier in future.
“I’d like to speak with the manager please,” she said as she was greeted at the wicket.
“Do you have an appointment?” asked the haughty woman who was to serve her.
“No,” replied Moira, smiling brightly, “but I believe he will see me. Please show him this letter of introduction.” She was working hard to hide her annoyance.
“Very good ma’am,” sniffed the woman who took the letter and marched away primly. She returned momentarily with a different look on her face. “Right this way please,” she said with more respect in her voice.
“Welcome, Miss Jones,” said the man, smiling warmly and standing to offer his hand. “May I ask you why you chose this branch?”
“Location,” she smiled in return as she shook the proffered hand.
“So you live nearby?” he asked as he seated himself again.
“No, I was driving by. I’ll be honest with you, sir, I have decided to settle in St. John’s and yours was the first bank I saw as I left the mall. How long I stay with the branch depends on the service I receive.”
“That’s fair enough, Miss Jones, tell me what you need.”
“Today I need a chequing account with six million dollars in it,” said Moira. “I have a bank draft for that amount with me.” She withdrew it from her purse and passed it to him. “I would also like the remaining seventy-four million plus transferred from the west to a savings account here for now. I’ll need new bank cards and my credit cards transferred as well. Once I have had a chance to settle in somewhat, I’ll make an appointment to discuss investment options with you.”
“Very good Miss Jones,” he smiled broadly. “Please relax for a moment and I’ll set this in motion right now.”
A short time later, Moira was back in the bank parking lot with a fresh batch of cheques in her purse as well as a new bank card. “Four fifteen,” she said to herself as she checked the watch. “The first three targets have been accomplished in one afternoon. Shall I push my luck? Why not?” Moira took out the newspaper clipping with Brenda Tuttle’s picture contact numbers on it. On the last number she called Moira finally reached her.
* * * * *
Brenda awakened with a heightened sense of anticipation. She leaped from her bed and hurried to the shower. “I don’t know how I know, but I am sure today is the day,” she thought as she washed her golden hair. “Today or tomorrow will see the end of all this nonsense, I just know it.” Late that afternoon, the gym phone rang. Brenda had been struggling with the feelings of anticipation all day. “This is it,” she thought as she reached for the phone. “This has to be it.”
“Fitness Center, Brenda speaking,” said Brenda in her richest tones. She really wanted to impress whoever was on the other end of that line.
“I’m trying to reach Brenda Tuttle the real estate agent.”
“That’s me,” laughed Brenda, “but until my brother returns in about a half hour, I’m Brenda the fitness trainer. Once Tony returns I’ll morph back into mild mannered Brenda Tuttle, St. John’s real estate agent. I’m sorry, how may I be of service?”
“My name is Moira Jones,” laughed the clear sweet voice, “and I wish to buy a house. You were recommended to me as an honest woman and agent supreme. When can we get together and discuss some of your listings?”
“I’m famished; would you like to join me for dinner somewhere? We can discuss your needs over a meal, and then I will have a much better idea of what to show you.”
“I am starting to get hungry. That is a wonderful idea. Where would you like to meet and please make it easy to find.”
“You’re new in town aren’t you? Tell me where you are right now.”
“I’m in a bank parking lot facing a huge shopping mall,” replied Moira. “I think the main street facing me is Kenmount Rd.”
“Ok, I know where you are. There is a nice pasta place right in the mall. Can you see the Wal Mart from where you are sitting?”
“Yes I can.”
“Ok, take the mall entrance nearest the Wal Mart. The restaurant is right inside the doors. Oh, there is Tony now. I’ll meet you in about a half hour. Can you grab a table for us?”
“Sure,” replied Moira. “I have your picture from the paper. I’ll wave my arms in the air when I see you.”
“A proper fanfare,” laughed Brenda, “I like that. Are you on a cell phone, Ms Jones?”
“Moira please, and yes I am on a cell,” said Moira warmly.
“May I have the number? I’ll call if I am to be delayed.”
“That would be fine.”
She gave Brenda the phone number then broke the connection. With some difficulty, Moira found her way through the maze of side streets and back to the mall parking lot. Having located the restaurant, she browsed for a few minutes, waiting to see if Brenda would be delayed. As the time passed without a phone call, Moira decided it was time to get a table. She deliberately tried to choose a seat where she could see the entryway.
Finally satisfied, Moira was just taking her first sip of coffee when a tall elegant blonde appeared in her view, and with a smile of anticipation began to sweep the tables with her eyes. Moira was momentarily awed by the vision before her. “Whoa there Moira, down girl,” she admonished herself silently as she felt her face flush. As the woman’s gaze fell on her, Moira waved her arm in the air and motioned the blonde to join her.
At the sight of Moira waving her arm the blonde’s smile broadened and she strode toward the table with the grace of a trained athlete. Brenda’s feelings of anticipation heightened as she saw the smaller woman smile.
“Moira Jones?” she asked as she approached the table.
“Yes,” replied Moira, extending her hand as she rose to greet her guest.
“Brenda Tuttle,” replied the smiling woman as she took Moira’s hand in hers and shook it warmly. “I see that you’ve ordered me a coffee. You must be a mind reader Moira. I have been in that gym with a broken coffee maker for seven hours and I am starting to get the jitters.”
“I apologize for not giving you the fanfare I promised as you entered,” grinned Moira. “Dear gods, Moira, stop flirting,” she railed inwardly.
“I could go back out and come in again.”
“That won’t be necessary, unless you really want to.”
“I’d rather get something to eat. You’ve had time to peruse the menu, what looks good?”
“Well, I was leaning toward lasagna.”
“That sounds perfect to me.”
Moira laid her menu on the table and looked up. The waitress instantly reappeared. They gave their orders then made small talk until the food arrived.
“So you have a secret identity?”
“Oh yes,” laughed Brenda. Moira felt her heart leap at the sound of that rich genuine laughter. “By day I am mild mannered Brenda Tuttle, real estate agent supreme.”
“And by night, Brunhilde the iron warrior,” supplied Moira, grinning.
Brenda laughed again. “You’ve got it my darling,” she smiled. “Careful, Brenda, don’t get too familiar too soon, there is something a bit spooky about this girl. She’s not from around here and may take offence.” Brenda suddenly felt sick at the idea of offending Moira.
“Actually, my brother owns the center,” she went on. “Lately he has been courting and I have been doing a lot of filling in. Normally I do one shift per week just to pay for my gym fees and to give him a break.”
“That sounds like a fine arrangement to me,” smiled Moira. “It sure seems to keep you in great shape.” “Dumb Moira,” she thought as she suddenly blushed deeply, “real dumb.”
If Brenda saw the blush she gave no sign. “Thank you,” she said graciously. “She noticed,” she thought with delight. “Do you work out? Perhaps we could get together on that one day.”
“I’ve been way out of touch for quite a while,” said Moira, suddenly nervous. “Easy girl,” she thought. “Don’t panic now.”
“No pressure,” said Brenda gently, trying to put Moira at ease again. “The winters here are long and dreary, so if on one dark February day you get bored to tears you can call me. I would be happy to teach you if you’d like.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” replied Moira relaxing again. “For god’s sake, she doesn’t know a thing about you, she is just trying to be nice,” she railed inwardly. “Shut up and let her.”
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer once I am settled in,” she said trying to put Brenda at ease again. “Please forgive me if I seem a bit jumpy, I’ve had a...”
“No problem,” interjected Brenda. “Gods I sacred her half to death and now she is trying to put me at ease,” she thought. “I can get really pushy sometimes. Just say ‘down Brunhilde’ and I’ll shut up.”
“No, no, you’re fine,” laughed Moira quickly, “really it is me.”
“If you care to share,” said Brenda gently, “any time any where, I’m there.”
“Thank you Brenda, perhaps I’ll take you up on that offer too,” she said softly with her eyes on the table before her, “in a more private setting.” Just then the food arrived and broke the mood.
“Lord, I had no idea how hungry I was,” sighed Moira as she finished the last scrap on her plate.
“Me either; I’m stove right up.”
“What?” asked Moira with a puzzled smile.
“Old Newfoundland expression,” laughed Brenda. “It means you are full.”
“Stove right up,” said Moira thoughtfully. “I’ll remember that.”
“I be’s stove right up, me old trout,” said Brenda with a thick lilting accent.
“Oh god, I love it, Brenda,” laughed Moira. “That was marvelous. Will you teach me so I will blend in around here?”
“You really mean that don’t you?”
“Yes, I want to sound and act as though I have lived here all my life, and I want to accomplish that as quickly as possible.”
“It will be my pleasure to be of service,” smiled Brenda. “To start with, say ‘my dear’, or ‘my love’, or ‘sure’ at the end of every other sentence.” She laughed at Moira’s puzzled expression and Moira thought she would do anything to hear that laugh again.
“Listen carefully,” whispered Brenda conspiratorially as she motioned for the waitress. “Can I get another cup of coffee, my love?” she asked as the girl arrived at the table.
“I’ll be right back, sure,” said the girl brightly as she scurried away. She was back in a trice with the coffee pot. “There you go, my dear. More for you, love?” she asked Moira.
“Thank you, my dear,” said Moira as the girl filled her cup, then hurried away.
“A bit faster with a bit more lilt and you’re in business,” laughed Brenda.
“A bit more like this, my dearie?” asked Moira with a saucy grin.
“Oh my god Moira,” laughed Brenda, “that was absolutely perfect. A few days practice and you’ll sound like a natural born townie.”
Moira beamed with pleasure at Brenda’s praise. “Teach me more,” she urged with a bright smile.
“I think it might be more useful to walk around the mall and listen for a while, then practice. I’ll shift into full ‘townie’ and you can mimic me as well, sure.”
“The ‘sure’ goes up on the end,” smiled Moira. “I can do this, sure.”
“That was just wonderful, my dear. Let’s pay our bill and take that stroll through the mall.”
“Capital idea, my love,” smiled Moira as she signal for the bill. “My treat sure.”
“Thank you,” said Brenda with genuine warmth. “I’ll just be a moment then, my dear.”
Brenda strode gracefully toward the restrooms and Moira watched her go. “Steady Moira,” she thought to herself, “you have a chance to build a real friendship here, don’t blow it on wild fantasies.” Her eye was drawn back to the door as Brenda re-emerged. “She sure is a lot of woman though,” she thought appreciatively.
Answering Brenda’s smile with her own, Moira rose from her seat. “My turn, sure,” she said brightly and was rewarded with that wonderful laugh.
“What a delightful and dynamic little woman,” thought Brenda as she watched Moira walk away. “Whoa big girl,” she railed inwardly, “this woman is a client and she is new in town. Be professional, for god’s sake. Be friendly, but be professional. Still, she is a real delight and I’d do almost anything to make her smile.” Moira reappeared from the washroom and gave Brenda her most winning smile.
“Ready to go, my dear?” asked Moira as she reached the table. She opened her purse and dropped a fifty on the bill, then picked up her coat.
“Don’t you want your change?”
“I used to wait tables,” replied Moira. “I had a wonderful meal in stellar company. The service was quick and friendly, and she was there whenever we wanted her yet she gave us lots of privacy. She is very professional and the girl deserves her tip.”
“Beauty, smarts, and class as well,” thought Brenda. “Girl, I could easily spend a lot more time in your company.”
“So, shall we do our walk about?” she asked aloud.
“Sounds good to me,” smiled Moira. “It will give that wonderful meal a chance to settle.”
They chatted easily about the weather, Moira’s first encounter with the ferry ride, and her chance meeting with Billy Doyle as they strolled leisurely through the mall. “I owe you for this one, Billy my old son,” Brenda thought to herself.
“Billy Doyle is a good lad,” Brenda said aloud, “we just weren’t compatible, that’s all.”
“He seemed quite fond of you too.”
“We were more like brother and sister than husband and wife. I liked Billy well enough but the marriage thing is just not for me.” “Dammit Brenda change the subject quick,” she raged inwardly. “You’re losing her. Think of something fast.”
“Oh look,” she said pointing to a movie marquee. “Tomb Raider is here again; I didn’t get to see it the first time.”
“Tomb Raider?” asked Moira, the somber mood she was sinking into suddenly broken.
“It is supposed to be about a girl who kicks the bad guy’s butt, saves the world, steals all the goodies, and has a blast all at the same time,” said Brenda excitedly.
“I haven’t seen a movie in forever.”
“Want to go?” asked Brenda enthusiastically.
“Oh I’d love to.”
“Done,” cried Brenda as she took Moira by the arm and steered her into line. “I’ve been dying to see this.”
“Oh no you don’t,” said Brenda as they reached the wicket. “You bought dinner, I pay for the movie. Two for Tomb Raider please. Thank you.” She took the tickets in one hand and Moira’s arm with the other. “Right this way, my dear.”
Moira allowed herself to be guided along as though she were Brenda’s date. If Brenda wanted to take charge for a while, then Moira would let her. They chose seats on the side about half way down and chatted politely as they waited for the movie to start. Several times during the show a startled Moira grabbed Brenda’s arm tightly. Each time Brenda smiled reassuringly and patted her hand.
Moira held on to Brenda’s arm until they were out of the crowd. “That was the most fun I have had in a lot of years,” she said with a broad smile still on her face.
“So, what can I do to make it complete,” inquired Brenda.
“You really mean that?”
“Yes I do, my dear. Tell Brenda what will make your day.”
“Hot chocolate.”
“Hot chocolate?”
“When I was little,” said Moira softly, “my grandmother would sometimes take me to the movies. Afterwards, we’d go for hot chocolate and just talk. I haven’t been since she died, and I had forgotten just how much I enjoy it.”
“Well, since it is tradition,” smiled Brenda, “what choice do we have? Tim Horton’s, here we come.”
* * * * *
“Mmmm, oh lord this is so good,” enthused Moira contentedly. She took another sip and gave Brenda a delighted smile which seemed to light up Brenda’s world. “Thank you so very much for this. Thank you for the whole evening.”
“It has been my very great pleasure,” replied Brenda softly. “I have really enjoyed myself as well. You know, I’d like to do it again sometime.”
“How about once a week?” suggested Moira. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, of course, you have a life, and, well, I didn’t mean to be pushy and I ...”
“I’d love to,” smiled Brenda, cutting into Moira’s panic. “Would Thursdays work for you?”
“You really mean that?” asked Moira, her panic vanishing to be replaced by her bright smile.
“Yes I do,” said Brenda warmly. Her heart soared to see Moira’s smile return. “Since today is Thursday, that seemed the logical choice.”
“Brenda you don’t have to do this just for me.”
“I’m not,” laughed Brenda, “I’m doing it for me. Moira, I have really enjoyed this evening and I would love to do it again. All of it, from the dinner right through to the hot chocolate.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Well, you could have breakfast with me tomorrow.”
“Oh my god,” exclaimed Moira. “Of course, we were supposed to be discussing business this evening, and I have gotten way off track. You must bill me for your time, Brenda, I...”
“Moira, Moira,” said Brenda taking the smaller woman’s hands in her strong fingers. “Relax. I have no complaints. I will not bill you for sharing such a wonderful evening with me. I must confess, I deliberately did not mention business because I was having too much fun.”
“You mean that?” asked Moira, calming down somewhat.
“Why else would I want to do it again? Trust me, I have really enjoyed your company and have deliberately left out any reference to business so you would have to have breakfast with me tomorrow.”
“Well, in that case I guess I have no choice,” smiled Moira as Brenda released her hands. “Oh dear, I seem to have finished my chocolate.”
“I guess that is my cue to take you home. You poor soul, you’re dead on your feet and I am keeping you up. You still have not recovered from you long trip.”
“I could have one more mug,” suggested Moira in a little girl voice.
“You need to rest, my love. I intend to walk you through dozens of houses tomorrow, so you need to rest.”
“Yes mom,” grinned Moira as they pulled on their coats.
“So, shall I take you right to the hotel?” asked Brenda as they pulled out of the parking lot in Brenda’s old Ford.
“I’d rather not leave my car in the mall parking lot overnight.”
“Fair enough, I’ll lead you back to the hotel, sure. No sense you trying to find your way in the dark.”
“Thank you, my dear,” replied Moira with a sweet lilt in her voice. “That is most considerate of you, sure.” She was rewarded with Brenda’s rich laugh.
“Perfect,” grinned Brenda, as she pulled up beside Moira’s car. “Absolutely perfect. Good night, Moira, shall I come for you at ten?”
“I’ll be waiting,” replied Moira. Suddenly she reached over and gripped Brenda’s arm tightly. “Thank you again for this evening; it has meant a lot to me.”
“It was my pleasure,” said Brenda warmly as she patted the girl’s hand. “Truly it was.”
Moira slid out of the car and closed the door. “You will never know how badly I wanted you to take me home,” she thought to herself as she climbed into her own car and started the engine.
Brenda drove slowly so Moira would have no trouble following her. In a surprisingly short time they were at the Holiday Inn. Brenda honked her horn lightly and sped away. “Moira Jones, you have no idea how badly I wanted to take you home with me,” Brenda sighed to herself as she drove away from the hotel. “Get a grip Brenda; this is one badly wounded bird here. You have an opportunity to build a real friendship; don’t blow this by doing something foolish. I really do like her though, and I want to spend a lot more time with her.”
* * * * *
“Moira my dear,” she said softly to herself as she crawled into bed, “you are going to have to buy a much more upscale house than you were planning on. This tower of beauty and class makes her living from commissions, and you have just taken up a whole evening of her time. Besides, why shouldn’t I have the best? I’m rich after all.”
She snuggled down into the bed and turned off the light. “She wants to do the movie evening with me once a week,” she thought with delight just before the voice of doom began to sound in the back of her mind.
“You have a chance to make a real friend here for the first time in years. Don’t blow it by making a pass at her.”
“I won’t blow it,” she smiled to herself as she drifted off to sleep. “I just want to enjoy her company. She is so incredibly beautiful, and I’d do anything to hear her laugh.”
* * * * *
“Gods, I’d do anything to make that girl smile,” thought Brenda as she turned out the light. She went to sleep and dreamed of a small smiling brunette girl.
House Hunting
Moira awakened slowly, enjoying the delicious feeling of drifting between sleep and wakefulness. One glance at the clock showed her that she still had plenty of time.
“Good,” she thought, “I don’t want to rush this day.” She rolled onto her back and stretched luxuriously. She looked at the empty place in the bed beside her. Moira pictured Brenda’s tall form lying there and was a bit surprised at how easy it was to conjure up that image.
“I wish,” she sighed as she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Oh lord, how I wish.” She padded into the bathroom and returned much later, toweling her hair. After using the hotel hair dryer, Moira opened her small suitcase. The last clean outfit lay before her. She would have to buy more, or find a laundry tomorrow.
“We’ll let tomorrow take care of itself,” she thought as she pulled on the jeans. Moira sat and carefully applied her make up; something she’d practiced in her dingy apartment for months but had almost never worn outside.
Moira worked until she was satisfied with a clean, but understated look. A cabled hunter green sweater with a small silver broach and earrings completed the picture. Moira smiled at the beautiful young woman in the mirror. She was a far cry from the street girl who’d bought a lottery ticket with her last dollar.
Checking the time, she saw that the appointed hour had finally arrived. As she approached the desk, Moira saw a vision of beauty walk through the main door. There was the official green jacket with the golden hair tumbling down over it topping a short leather skirt and mid height heels. At the first sight of Moira, Brenda broke into a huge smile. “Dear gods Moira,” she thought to herself, “do not run over there screaming ‘I love you.’ Wow, does this girl have legs. Stop that right now, she’ll see the lust all over your face. Stop it.”
“Good morning, my dear,” she said brightly.
* * * * *
Brenda had opened her eyes at the sound of the buzzing clock. With a soft groan of protest she reached over and shut it off. “Seven am is way too early,” she muttered to herself. Suddenly she sat straight up in the bed. “I’m showing houses to Moira today,” she thought as she swung her long legs over the edge of the bed and reached for her slippers. Slipping her feet into their warmth, she padded to the bathroom.
Brenda luxuriated in the steamy shower for a moment longer then turned the water to cold. She gasped as the icy water hit her warm body and managed to endure it for only a moment before she shut it off and reached for the towel.
Tossing aside the hair dryer, Brenda began to explore her wardrobe options. Ok, the green jacket was a must, part of the job. What to wear with it? A silk moss green blouse and the black leather skirt. Too much? Oh hell, why not reach a bit, see if she notices. Now, the woman is small so lower heels only; we don’t want to intimidate her, we just want to get her attention. The hair has to be worn loose as well.
* * * * *
With a sigh of impatience Brenda searched her key chain for the key to the office door. She went straight to her small cubicle and began to load her briefcase with all the necessary papers she might need today as well as the latest listing from the computer.
“My, my, Brenda, you’re in early for a change,” oozed a male voice behind her. It was the office manager, in early as usual. “It is good to see you back at work.”