Dead Fit - 26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

In the morning when I woke, Brian was no longer in bed. I did a quick check under the sheets. Sure enough, I was still wearing my boxers, a good sign that I didn't let my hormones take control of the night. I rummaged through his closet and found a robe. I threw it on and it was far too big for me. But it was better than running around in my skivvies.

Brian was sitting at his breakfast nook sipping coffee and surfing the internet on his laptop. I walked up behind him and put my arms around him. I wondered if this was what being married or in a committed relationship was like – waking up and having my significant other already here. No need to get in my car and drive to him. I liked the feeling.

I sat across from Brian and he put aside his laptop. “Nice robe, baby. I have one just like it. What do you have on the agenda today,” Brian asked.

“I've got a wedding to go to this afternoon.”

“You’re getting married and not even inviting me?”

“Very funny. It's just a friend of mine.”

“Do you need a date?”

“No thanks.”

“Are you ashamed of me?”

“A little,” I teased, “But that has nothing to do with why I’m not taking you. I'm just going to the ceremony. If I was going to the reception, too, I’d handcuff you to me and drag you along. You know how social situations give me anxiety.”

“Ooh, handcuffs. I like the sound of that.”

Me and my big mouth. I needed to watch my choice of words a little more around Brian.

Brian poured me a cup of coffee and then made us omelets out of egg whites, fresh vegetables and chicken breast. As nutritious as it was, it was also surprisingly tasty. I made a note that I needed to brush up on my cooking skills. These sleepovers were going to be more regular and eventually Brian would expect me to make my fair share of meals.

At noon, we parted ways – Brian to the gym and me to Trevor’s wedding. Before going to St. Theresa’s church, I stopped back home to change into a suit. I had only one suit in my wardrobe, so making a selection was going to be simple. When I walked into my house, I had a strange sensation that something wasn't right. Nothing was obviously different at first glance, but as I walked from room to room, things appeared slightly out of place.

I walked into my room and the feeling that something was wrong grew stronger. I pulled opened the drawers to my dresser, starting with the top and working my way to the bottom. My otherwise neat piles of clothes had been ruffled through. At times like these, I was grateful for my limited wardrobe. It took only a few minutes to verify that none of my discount-store clothes had been stolen, which suggested that my unauthorized visitor was looking for something, rather than a pervert trying to steal used underwear.

I continued to scan my room. The sheet covering my bed was untucked in one corner, as though the mattress had been lifted to see if anything was hiding beneath it. Storage boxes in my closet, which typically were neatly stacked one on top of another, had obviously been removed and carelessly returned in random order.

My skin crawled. I felt violated. This was the second time in a week I came home and something wasn't right. The first time was on Sunday when I came home and found my front door unlocked. I chalked that up to me being absent-minded. But this happening a second time was a bit more worrisome.

What on earth did I possess that someone else would want? Neither my parents nor I had anything of great value hidden in the house. Hell, we didn't have anything of great value, period.

And that's when Todd came to mind. I was sure he was behind the break-in at St. Theresa's. If I was correct and he really was the culprit, he now knew the smartphone was never donated. Once Todd discovered it wasn't in the box he stole from the Thrift Shop, it would have been a natural conclusion to think the phone was still at my house.

In reality, the smartphone was hiding in my backpack. After Best Buy wasn't able to revive it last Sunday, I shoved it in my bag. Fortunately for me, I forgot to take it out. And now the backpack was sitting in Brian's condo, safe from criminal hands.

Did Todd ransack my house trying to find the smartphone?

I sat on the edge of my bed and mulled it over. If Todd was desperate enough to break into the Thrift Shop and my house, could he be desperate enough to cause me bodily harm? Was he crazy enough to use violence to get the phone back?

No need to over-analyze the situation, I thought. I was spending the rest of the weekend with Brian. My safety wasn't in immediate jeopardy. And on Monday, my parents would be back from Phoenix. No way would Todd try anything with my parents at home. Besides, he had tried both the Thrift Shop and my house, and neither location had his phone. Hopefully he would give up soon.

I looked at the clock on my mobile phone. Damn, I was going to be late if I didn't hurry up. I slapped on a shirt and tie and stepped into my dress pants. I checked myself out in the mirror. I really should have ironed my garments, but time was limited.

I floored it to St. Theresa's. The parking lot was completely full, except for five stalls that were reserved for customers of the Thrift Shop, so I parked my Civic in the street and sprinted to the front of the church. An usher intercepted me before I could pull open the doors.

“The bride is walking down the aisle as we speak. You'll have to wait out here until she gets all the way down,” he said. The usher was tall and had gangly limbs like Trevor. No doubt this was a relative, possibly a brother or cousin.

While I waited, I glanced over the program the usher gave me. Trevor’s fiancée’s name was Pilar. After all of these weeks of working out with him, I finally learned her name. Their Catholic ceremony was packed full of scripture readings, songs, and praises. I had a bad feeling this wedding was going to be longer than I expected.

After what seemed like an eternity, the usher cracked open the door and stuck his head in the chapel. I peered in too and saw Pilar had made it down the aisle. She was now in front of the officiating priest and her father was giving her hand to Trevor. I looked to the left and Pilar’s Matron of Honor didn’t look splotchy, so either she recovered from her case of hives, or Pilar managed to find a replacement. To the right, I looked at Trevor and saw that his pants matched his tuxedo coat. Yeah. At least their ceremony was proceeding without drama.

The usher opened the door all the way and quickly pointed to a pew at the back of the chapel. Apparently, tardy guests were required to sit in isolation from the on-time guests. That's what I get for being late. I walked as quietly as I could to my seat, but my movement in the otherwise still chapel caught Trevor's attention. He subtly turned in my direction and winked at me.

I parked myself at the end of the pew in case other late guests would be directed to sit in the back of the chapel with me. At least my seat was next to a big window, a benefit of arriving late. As the ceremony dragged on and on, I entertained myself by staring out the window and watching customers come in and out of St. Theresa's Thrift Shop. Some customers looked like they really had a rough life and it made me grateful for having been born into my family. While we weren’t wealthy, we were probably much better off than most of the customers shopping at St. Theresa's.

About forty minutes into the ceremony, my eyes were glazing over. By that point, we had heard three sermons dealing with the virtues of monogamy, religious obedience, and forgiveness. We had listened to two hymns, one in Latin, sang by a soloist who looked like she was going to pop right out of her dress. Now, Trevor and Pilar were kneeling in front of a candle they had jointly lit, while the soloist was singing I Will Be There.

While she belted out the second verse, my eyes wandered back to the window, trying to find anything to distract me from the pain of sitting through the ceremony. A blue BMW pulled into a customer parking stall in front of the Thrift Shop. The car resembled Todd’s prized possession, but I couldn't be certain because the only time I had seen his car was at night. Any doubt that this was Todd’s car ceased when he stepped out of the driver’s seat.

My interest peaked. For the first time since entering the chapel, I sat upright at full attention. I tried to be coy, turning my head slightly to get a good view of Todd. He was dressed in a sharp blue suit, sunglasses covering his eyes. I watched him disappear through the door of the Thrift Shop. My mobile phone said it was 1:43 pm. What I wouldn’t have done to be able to sneak out of the chapel and accidentally bump into Todd at the Thrift Shop to find out what he was up to.

The soloist concluded the song and the priest asked us to bow our heads and close our eyes for another prayer. Damn. I didn’t want to miss Todd exiting the Thrift Shop, but I complied, begrudgingly, because I didn’t want to be banished to hell for disobedience. When the prayer finally ended, I turned my head to look out the window. Todd’s BMW was gone. I glanced at the time on my phone, again. 1:47 pm. Todd had been in the shop for four minutes. What on earth could he have been doing in the Thrift Shop for four minutes?

While the priest droned on, I debated whether or not to haul myself over to the Thrift Shop at the conclusion of the wedding to see what Todd was doing there. I had committed to putting my investigation of Todd on hold and spend the weekend focused only on Brian. But this was the closest I had come to catching him, red-handed, doing something conniving. I couldn't let this opportunity pass. I just needed the priest to quit blabbering.

The ceremony continued until just past two, at which time the priest proudly introduced to the world Mr. and Mrs. Decker-Delgado. A hyphenated last name – I cringed for their unborn children. We stood and applauded the couple as they made their way down the aisle. I was ready to make my way down the aisle right after the bride and groom, but the other guests sat back down so they could be properly dismissed by the ushers. Wedding etiquette had never been one of my strong points.

The ushers used the first in, first out method to clear out the chapel, which unfortunately for me, meant I was stuck in my pew for a few more minutes. As guests filed out, people looked at me, intrigued why I was sitting alone. I’m sure sordid thoughts ran through their mind, imagining the horrible acts I performed resulting in my segregation from the rest of the flock. If only they knew how boring my life really was.

As soon as the ushers let me know it was my turn to vacate the chapel, I made a beeline straight towards the Thrift Shop. Other guests were lined up to throw rice at the couple, but I had more important matters to attend to. Besides, I received a forwarded email that told me throwing uncooked rice at weddings resulted in birds eating the grains and exploding when the grains expanded in their stomachs. I certainly didn't want to be known as a bird killer.

There were a few customers in the Thrift Shop, mostly congregated around household items that were for sale. A Sister was walking around the shop. Nuns in habits all look a like to me, so I had to stare at her for a while to determine if she was Sister Ann Marie. Nope. This was a different nun.

“Hello, Sister, about twenty minutes ago there was a man in a suit who came into your store. Can you tell me what he wanted?”

“Oh, that gentleman must have spoken with Sister Ann Marie. She was watching the store right before I got here.”

“Is Sister Ann Marie available?”

“No, I’m sorry, she’s in seclusion until tomorrow.”

“Is there anyway I can speak to her, just very briefly. It’s extremely important.”

“No, this is her time for spiritual reflection and she doesn’t want any disturbances. She’ll be working at the store again tomorrow, from noon until two.”

“Okay, I’ll come back then. Thank you, Sister.”

* * * * *

When I got back to Brian’s condo, he had just returned from the gym. His t-shirt was still moist with perspiration.

“You clean up well,” Brian said. He hugged me and whispered in my ear, “You need help getting out of the suit?”

“I think I can manage just fine.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon on Brian’s balcony. He held my hand as we sat side-by-side, talking about nothing in particular. Having Brian’s affection all to myself put me in a good mood. I felt safe, content. He was there to protect me from harm, which made it easy to forget that my house had been broken into. And forget about it is exactly what I did.

In the evening, Brian and I had dinner at a little Mexican restaurant, followed by drinks at Q's Lounge. The place was packed, so we ended up sharing a booth with some strangers. To thank them for sharing their space with us, Brian treated them to a round of drinks. Then they treated us. Then we treated them. The camaraderie was nice, but I was drinking more and faster than usual.

The rest of the night was a blur. At some point, I remember walking out to Brian’s car. I vaguely recall brushing my teeth and crawling into bed with Brian, but that could have been just a dream.