Expectations: Episode Six

Find out if Suze is still alive and what Tash will do next as she tries her best to help her ex-girlfriend.

Photo by cottonbro studio

“No shit, I’m late. Assholes. What’ve you done with her?” She crumples the note and throws it into the nearby bushes. Tears pour down her face as Tash pulls the jacket towards her, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm herself. The jacket smells like Suze, a mix of leather, sweat, and strawberry shampoo.

She remembers the day she’d given Suze this jacket. It was two years on her birthday. She’d seen Suze eyeing it in the shop and had decided to get it for her. Suze loves this jacket. She wouldn’t have left it behind unless she had to.

Think! C’mon, Tash, there has to be something here besides the note.  Wiping away the tears, she begins to feel the jacket pockets. Remembering the hidden inside pocket, her hand wraps around what feels like a phone.

“Ah-ha! I knew there had to be more to this than a stupid note.” Triumphantly, she pulls out one of those cheap throwaway phones. Okay, now I’m getting somewhere. Swiping the remaining tears from her face, she sits up, cradling the jacket in her lap, and turns the phone on.

A text message lights up the screen.

                        You have one more chance.

Double what she owes

24 hrs

Tash swipes at the tears from her eyes and rereads the message. She pushes herself up from the ground, balancing Suze’s jacket and the phone in one hand. She thinks for a moment before texting.

How do I know she's still alive?

It’s the only thing she can think of that she really wants to know. Well, that and how much money does Suze owe them? She really needs to stop helping Suze out of these predicaments she always gets herself into. Maybe then she’ll learn. But too late for that now. She’s in this as much as Suze is, if not more.

The phone rings. The sudden noise in the dead of night startles her, and she drops the phone like it’s about to bite her. Scrambling, she picks it up.

“Hello?" Her voice sounds shaky and uncertain. She hates that she sounds so vulnerable.

“OMG! Suze! Are you okay?" Her breath hitches as tears trickle down her face again. Get it together, Tash.

"Yes, I know it's a silly question. Considering the circumstances." Her laugh turns to sobs.

"No, no. I'm still at the park. How much do you owe them?"

She closes her eyes. How did Suze rack up such a huge debt?

"Jesus, Suze. Where am I supposed to get that much money?"

"Of course I love you. You know I’ll come through. I'll figure something out."

"I love you."

But Suze never heard those last words. The call ended. Tash frowns into the darkness as she puts on Suze's jacket. The jacket's weight comforts her as she wraps her arms around herself. Closing her eyes, she imagines Suze hugging her. A flood of memories of all the good times they had brings forth new tears. She takes a deep breath, opens her eyes, and with a new resolve to get Suze out of this situation, she walks back to her car.

                                                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following morning, a loud knock wakes Tash from her restless slumber. Can’t a person get some sleep around here?

"Coming!" she lifts her head from the pillow, wiping the spittle from her mouth. Who the fuck is knocking at her door at 10 am? Okay, maybe regular people were awake now, but not her. Those people had jobs and lives. Tash had neither of those.

Throwing on sweatpants and a giant sweatshirt, she pads to the door, flinging it open.

No one's there. Stepping outside into the bright sun, she looks up and down the street.

"Seriously!" Annoyed, she runs her hand over her face, rubbing her eyes, and notices the bouquet in the shade off the side of her front stoop.

She picks up the bouquet, looking for anyone who might have left them. It must be they got dropped at her house by mistake. Balancing the large bouquet, she looks for the card. Nope, not the wrong address. They are for her. She looks up and down the street one last time before returning to her tiny bungalow.  

She pushes the piles of mail and magazines to make a spot for the bouquet on the round dining room table. Whoever these are from, they don't know her very well. She hates getting flowers. They're such a waste of money. She hesitates before plucking the card from the holder.

Dear Tash,

Thank you again for rescuing me last night. I don't think I'd be here without your amazingly badass way of saving my ass.

If there's anything I can ever do for you. Here's my cell 555-0159.

                                    Del

Huh, well, that explains it. Tash rereads the handwritten card before putting it back on the table. This could be the answer to her prayers. She looks up at the ceiling. Maybe there's a higher power up there that actually gives a shit.

But first, coffee. Then, she needs to figure out how to approach Del with what she needs help with. Just the thought makes her stomach sour. She hates asking others for help. Especially with something like this.