What To Do About Wednesday Read online

  Holding back a yawn, she tried to focus on the day ahead of her. She worked the morning shift and had classes this afternoon. Maybe she’d take the long way home this afternoon and hopefully wear herself out.

  The night before had been spent in restless fits of sleep, and she’d woken from a nightmare around three. Too anxious to go back to sleep, she’d wandered into the kitchen and made a cup of hot chocolate. Taking the warm mug and the cookie tin into the living room, she’d spent an hour watching television before finally falling back asleep on the sofa.

  She’d woken up that morning with a sore back, her eyes scratchy from lack of sleep and cookie crumbs sprinkling her chest, but she’d made it through her first night in the apartment alone.

  Eight and half minutes later, Piper pushed through the door of The Pleasant Valley Perk coffee shop. The business name was a mouthful so most of the locals just referred to it as The Perk.

  Her coworkers, Sarah and Fitz, stood behind the counter.

  A few customers dotted the tables, but no one was in line. Fitz looked up as she walked in and offered her one of his gorgeous grins.

  Piper’s heart skipped a beat. Just like it did every time she saw the cute coffee maker.

  Feeling her cheeks warm, she gave a little wave then headed into the back room to drop off her coat and purse.

  Fitz was fun to look at, but there was no way anything was happening there. Besides the fact the hot computer engineer was totally out of her league, there was also the small details. One, he was her boss—well, he was the shift leader, so he was like her boss, and two, he was a friend of Drew’s, which automatically made him off-limits.

  The guys had been friends and teammates. They’d played soccer together, and Piper had met him a few times while they were in high school. She didn’t know what his actual first name was, but his last name was Fitzgerald and everyone called him Fitz.

  She called him the Brilliant Barista. Well, not actually to his face. But in her head.

  Seriously, the guy was crazy smart. And totally hot. And literally oozed charm. But not in a smarmy way, more like an ‘everyone was his friend’ kind of way. He had the cutest smile. It lit up his whole face. And made his blue eyes do this sparkly kind of thing. His body was lean and muscled, the body of an athlete. And his skin still held the warm shade of a summer tan.

  He wore faded jeans and scuffed low-top Converse sneakers and looked totally at ease in his clothes, whether he had on a nice button down shirt or a worn T-shirt that humorously declared his love for physics.

  Fitz was smart and sweet and…totally off-limits, she reminded herself.

  There was no way she wanted to get involved with one of Drew’s best buddies.

  Not that it mattered. There was still the little matter of him being completely out of her league and the small fact that with such a cute guy, she would be routed directly into the friend zone.

  The Brilliant Barista poked his head into the backroom, another killer grin on his face. His blond hair was just a little too long, and his shaggy bangs fell across his forehead. “Hey, Piper.”

  “Hey, Fitz.”

  “You doing okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  He stepped into the back and leaned his hip against the counter. “You back in your apartment yet?”

  She nodded. “Yep. Spent my first night alone there last night.”

  “How was it?”

  “Creepy. And a little weird. But also okay. I didn’t sleep very well, but I’m sure that will get better.”

  He had this way of really looking at her while she talked, like he was totally interested in what she had to say. Which made her blab out every inconsequential boring detail of her life.

  The coffee shop was either slamming busy or deathly slow, and the baristas often had time to chat. Piper was usually the one blending into the wall, listening while she let others talk.

  But she wasn’t like that with Fitz. Whether it was the way he asked her questions or the way he appeared to actually care about her answers, he seemed to always get her talking. Over the last few weeks, they had worked almost every shift together, and she had spilled the specifics of the murder and the humiliating aspects of Drew dumping her.

  “That’s gotta be strange,” he said. “But I’m sure it will get easier.”

  “I hope so. It took me forever to fall asleep last night.”

  Sarah, the other employee, called into the back. “We’ve got a line. Can you guys help?”

  “Be right there,” Fitz answered. He caught Piper’s arm as she walked past him toward the front of the shop. “You know you can always call or text me. I mean, just in case you have trouble again. I’m a night owl, and I’m usually up late studying anyway, so it wouldn’t bother me. Just remember you’ve got my number if you ever want to talk.”

  The employees were given a call tree when they started and encouraged to enter their co-workers’ phone numbers into their phones in case they needed to call in or wanted to request a shift exchange.

  She ducked her head and muttered a soft, “Thanks.”

  There was no way she would ever call him. And she was sure he didn’t really expect her to. The guy was just being nice. Like he was to everyone. He was probably just worried she would be too tired to show up for her shift.

  She didn’t have time to think too much more about it as the shop was filling with their usual mid-morning rush. Fitz grabbed a stack of cups and started filling orders while she and Sarah rotated between the registers and preparing drinks.

  Later that night, Piper tossed and turned, trying to sleep.

  Her day had flown by. Fortunately, she enjoyed her classes, and it had been a warm day so she’d been able to walk home from campus the long way.

  She’d passed a grocery store on her way back and had grabbed a few things, including a small bag of dry dog food. The scruffy dog had been gone when she got back to the apartment, but she put a plastic bowl of water and a little dish of the food under her porch, just in case. She knew what it was like to be hungry.

  It had taken her a couple of hours to finish all her homework then she’d had a warm cup of tea and tried reading a book, in an effort to tire herself out.

  But it hadn’t worked. She’d been lying in bed for close to an hour and still felt wide awake.

  Her body seemed to be on hyper-alert to every sound and creak in the apartment. Between the neighbors moving around upstairs and the wind that was blowing that night, the old Victorian was full of creepy thuds and groans.

  She checked her phone. Again.

  Eleven-forty.

  Ten minutes past the last time she’d looked.

  Her phone buzzed in her hand, startling her, and it flew from her hand as she jumped. It hit the floor with a thud.

  Who was calling her this late?

  Maybe it was the killer.

  Maybe he was calling to tell her she was next.

  Or that he was in the house with her. She’d seen that movie.

  Leaning over the bed, she reached for the phone, then snatched her hand back as her mind reeled with visions of the murderer hiding under her bed waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

  Her breath seemed to be stuck in her throat, and her heart pounded against her chest.

  This is ridiculous. There is no monster under the bed.

  She swallowed and leaned slowly forward. Gathering her courage, she shot her hand out, snatched the phone from the floor, and scrambled back in the bed, pressing her back against the wall and clutching the phone to her chest.

  The stupid text better be worth it.

  She peered down at the phone, and this time her heart raced for a different reason.

  The text was from the Brilliant Barista. “You asleep?”

  Her hands shook as she fumbled with the phone, trying to touch the right spots to respond. “Not yet. Why aren’t you?”

  “I’m studying for a test. Thought I’d check in on you.” Smiley-face emoji.

  Hmm
. Was that a ‘isn’t that funny’ kind of smiley face, or a ‘remember, we’re just friends’ kind of smiley face?

  Did it matter?

  “Thanks.” Smiley-face emoji.

  Two could play at this game.

  “Wanna talk?”

  Wasn’t that what they were doing? Or did he mean actually talk? Like on the phone? Or did he mean he wanted to come over? She tried to imagine Fitz in her apartment, sitting on the faded blue sofa. A warm tingle slid down her spine.

  What was wrong with her? He was just being nice. Being Fitz. He hadn’t asked her if he could come over or take her out. He’s simply asked if she wanted to talk, which could just as easily mean to continue texting. She typed a quick response before she could change her mind. “Sure.”

  She held her breath, then almost dropped the phone again when it buzzed in her hand. Her hand trembled as she touched the screen and held the phone to her ear. “Hello.”

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  Wow. This conversation was going great so far.

  “So, um, what test are you studying for?”

  “Calculus.”

  “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

  “Oh man. You really do want me to put you to sleep.”

  She let out a funny giggly sound she wasn’t used to hearing come out of her mouth. “What I want is for you to talk to me about something that will take my mind off the fact my roommate has just been murdered. And that it happened in the next room over from where I’m currently sleeping.”

  “Okay. I see your point. Well, I’m currently trying to solve a differential equation.”

  “Hmmm. Is that anything like making coffee?” she teased. “Because I kind of understand that.”

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Tell me about it anyway.” Snuggling into her pillow, she pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes, letting the sound of his voice relax and settle her troubled mind.

  “I’d rather talk about you.”

  “Why? I’m far more boring than Calculus.”

  He laughed. “I don’t believe that. I’m just worried about you, I guess. How’s the search going for a new roommate?”

  Her eyes popped open. That topic wasn’t settling at all.

  She let out a sigh. “Not well. I thought I would have at least a few inquiries by now. But I haven’t had a single reply to my ad.”

  “What does your ad say? Maybe you’re not making the apartment seem attractive enough.”

  “I didn’t want to make it too complicated. So I put in, you know, just the normal stuff. Single female seeking roommate to split rent for furnished two-bedroom apartment in a renovated Victorian home. Close to campus, utilities included, blah blah blah. I said I was looking for a non-smoker who was semi-tidy. Then, in an effort to show I have a fun side, and believe me, it was an effort, because I’ve been told I’m not much fun at all, I listed three requirements. Must have: 1) a sense of humor, 2) an easy-going personality, and 3) a Netflix subscription.”

  “That is funny.” He chuckled, and the sound of his laughter sent butterflies swirling through her stomach.

  “I figured you’d have to be easy-going to live in a place which has just been swept for clues by the cops. And I wasn’t serious about the Netflix thing. It was just a lame attempt to be witty. But it isn’t working. I still haven’t had a single call or email about it. I think people are creeped out by the murder. I know I would be.”

  Oh wait. I am actually freaked out—hence the midnight phone conversation with the Brilliant Barista.

  “Yeah. That’s a tough one. But I’m sure the right person will come along.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “Are you getting tired yet?”

  “Not at all. Maybe you should tell me more about your equation, and I’ll nod off.”

  “Good plan. I’ll work through this last problem out loud, and if I hear you snoring, I’ll hang up.”

  “Hey. I don’t snore.” Why did he say that? Had he heard she snored? Had Drew told him that?

  The reminder of Drew and his relationship to Fitz was like a splash of cold water to the face.

  “Listen, you’ve been really great, but you don’t have to calculus me to sleep. I know you have more work to do, and really, I’m a big girl. I can fall asleep on my own.”

  “Oh yeah. Of course. Sure you can. I was just trying to help.” His tone changed to sound more brusque and businesslike.

  Crud. She didn’t want to hurt the guy’s feelings. Or get hurt myself. She kept her voice low, sincere. “You have helped.”

  “You can call me anytime.”

  “Thanks, Fitz.”

  “You are very welcome.”

  “Good night.”

  “Hey, Piper?”

  “Yeah.”

  “For the record, I do think you’re funny.”

  She let out a soft chuckle. “Thanks.”

  “Good night, Piper,” he whispered.

  “Good night, Fitz,” she whispered back, then tapped the screen to disconnect the call and set the phone on the wobbly nightstand.

  Flopping back onto the bed, she nestled into her pillow and closed her eyes again, but could not stop smiling.

  The next night, Piper sat curled on the sofa trying to study while she nervously glanced at the clock.

  She’d received an email reply to her ad that afternoon, and her new roommate was scheduled to arrive any minute.

  The email had been cordial and well-written. It had been signed only as L. Penny, which Piper found a little odd, but had decided beggars can’t be choosers. With the rent due in two days, she was bordering on desperate.

  According to her message, “L” had just moved to town and was planning to enroll in some classes and was ‘super-excited’ to find a place so close to campus and downtown.

  Nothing in her email set off any ‘crazy’ flags for Piper, and she had her fingers crossed this L. Penny would be someone she could like. Heck, she’d take someone she could barely tolerate as long as they could overlook the small matter of the last tenant’s untimely demise and could cover their share of the rent.

  A knock sounded at the door, and she jumped, her nerves getting the best of her.

  She pushed off the sofa and crossed the room, but paused, apprehension filling her as she reached for the door knob.

  How bad could this person be? She claimed to have met the requirements Piper had listed and she met the main one that Brittany wasn’t—she was breathing.

  And she said she had the first month’s rent with her, which was the most important qualification at the moment.

  She needed someone to help with the rent and someone who wasn’t squeamish about living in an apartment where the last tenant had been murdered. Period.

  That was enough for right now.

  If they could manage those two things—and had Netflix—she could pretty much deal with anyone.

  She took a deep breath and opened the door.

  That same breath caught in her throat as she stared at the blond woman standing there.

  Her voice cracked as she croaked out one word. “Mom?”

  Piper stood frozen in place, her knuckles turning white as she clutched the door knob and stared at her mother, a woman she hadn’t seen in three months.

  “Surprise,” her mom said, a sheepish grin on her face.

  Surprise didn’t even come close.

  Neither did flabbergasted.

  And dumbfounded wasn’t even in the ballpark.

  Disbelief, shock, and astonishment might work.

  “What are you doing here?” Piper asked, which was better than what she wanted to say. The question on her tongue had a few more expletives.

  “I’m here about the apartment. I’m the one who answered your ad.”

  A ripple of dread flowed through as Piper glanced down at the rolling suitcase and battered duffle bag at her mother’s feet.

  “Oh no. No way.”

  Claire Dent
on put a hand on her hip, and Piper noticed the way her faded jeans hung loosely around her previously curvy waist. “I thought you might be at least a little happy to see me.”

  “Why? The last time I saw you was when you dumped me on Aunt Cassie’s doorstep and went riding off on the back of a motorcycle.”

  Her mom raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Well, the last time I saw you, you had black spiky hair, a piss-poor attitude, a pierced nose, and you were wearing clothes out of a vampire fashion magazine.”

  Piper touched her shoulder-length blonde hair. She had gone through a bit of a Goth stage in high school. When she’d moved in with Cassie and started school in Pleasant Valley, her hair and her whole wardrobe had been black. She’d made a few friends in the Goth crowd, but then she’d started dating Drew and made new friends, and new fashion choices. Cassie had taken her shopping, and she’d dyed her hair back to its original color and let it grow out.

  “I’ve changed.”

  “I can see that. So have I.”

  Her mom did look different. Rougher, somehow. Like the life she’d been living hadn’t been kind. She’d always had full naturally wavy hair, but now her too-blonde bleached hair hung limp and seemed thinner. And an inch and a half of dark roots gave away her natural color. The pale blue top she wore drooped on her shoulders, and her black motorcycle boots were scuffed and worn.

  But Piper wasn’t about to feel sorry for her. She’d made her choice. A choice that hadn’t included her daughter. “How is Spider, by the way? Is that his first name or his last—I never was sure. Should I call him Mr. Spider?”

  Claire shrugged. “I’m through with that guy so you can call him whatever the hell you want. I call him a dirty cheatin’ bastard.”

  Interesting. “So, what are you really doing here?”

  “I told you. I answered your ad. I’m your new roomie.”

  Piper reread the emails in her head, searching for any kind of clues that they had been from her mother. “You said your name was L. Penny.”

  Claire chuckled. “I know. Pretty clever, right? Don’t you remember? It was the name of that first dog we had, back when you were little. Her name was Penny but we always called her Lucky Penny because of the way she’d just turned up on our doorstep. So, I borrowed her name and got L. Penny. I thought it was hilarious.”