5’3, 130 pounds, and she lives right here in Seattle.
I snap a picture of the screen with my phone, and shut off the computer.
AlrightNaomi,let’s see what you’ve been up to.
3
SEAMUS
3 months later
Mimi was easy to track down once I had herrealname.
I was furious to discover she lived less than thirty minutes from me in Texas when we were kids, but she moved right after she returned from summer camp.
That, I found odd. She had just turned eighteen and still had one more year of high school left, but for reasons that I haven’t yet discovered, they moved to Seattle before the start of her senior year. There, she was homeschooled and finished her degree outside of high school.
She and her parents still live in Seattle. They are retired, and Naomi is a yoga instructor contracted by way too many studios to track.
I still tracked them and ran all the details on their entire business, obviously.
And of course, she’s a goddamn yoga instructor. I could see it in the strong lines of her gorgeous body in that white dress that still haunts my dreams.
The address on her ID was up to date, soit was easy enough to find her living comfortably in a small cul-de-sac right outside downtown Seattle. It was also easy enough for me to approach her neighbor, making an off market deal for their house they couldn’t refuse.
Excessive? Maybe.
Necessary? Absolutely.
I’ve spent far too many years wondering what happened to her. Years searching for who I thought was a ghost, a figment of my imagination. Then she just lands back in my lap.
I’m not one to believe insigns, but that’s a goddamn billboard if I’ve ever seen one.
With my government contacts, it only took a couple weeks to get all the details I needed about her and all of her neighbors, a day to make up my mind that I was moving to Seattle, and two long, excruciatingly painful negotiating weeks with the owners of the house next door to her to finally come to an agreement. Then once we did, they wanted a sixty day rent back to stay in the house for free.
I had no choice but to concede to their request, which put my plan back a couple months. A blip in the last decade, but still. I found myself impatient. And I’mneverimpatient.
Regardless, after nine cups of coffee, six bathroom breaks paired with gas tank refills, thirty hours of driving, and four hours of unloading, I’ve finally made it here, and the moving truck is officially empty.
“That’s the last of it,” I call out to Hudson from inside the back of the truck, as he carries the last box in the house.
It’s too big for what I need, but I figure I’ll find things to do with the extra space. It was originally a two bedroom, two bath home before the prior owners built a third loft style bedroom and added that on a second story. The floorplan is a bit strange, but the second story room is expansive and overlooks the backyard.
The owner told me he was a writer, and utilized the space as a sanctuary to write some of his best-selling novels.
I plan to use it as my painting room. A secret passion that no one knows about. I’ve never had enough space for all my canvases, but I will now with that addition.
I fold up the moving blankets that came with the U-Haul and place them in the corner, when Hudson walks up toward the back of the truck with a garbage bag in his hand. He trails the side of the truck, and as I hear the lid of the garbage can close, the brakes of a car squeak before an engine dies off.
“Shit,” I whisper-yell. It bounces off the sides of this empty truck as I duck for cover.
I studied her goddamn routine for weeks, and she’s never home at this time.
Realizing I have exactly zero places to hide, I rise to my full height, pressing my back into the side of the truck, attempting to blend in…with absolutely nothing.
“Hi, are you moving in?” Her angelic voice makes my heart stutter, or maybe it’s the fact that Hudson might find out in mere moments what a complete lunatic I am.
He has no idea why I moved here so suddenly. He thinks it’s for no reason other than I offered help to Ember at the club, and because I could. I know he knows me better than that, but I’ve never told him about Mimi and would rather not start now. Not like this.
