Dear Readers:
This morning, I’m sharing Part 4 of my story, “Garage Sale Addict”. If you haven’t read “Garage Sale Addict, Part 1” or “Garage Sale Addict, Part 2“, “Garage Sale Addict, Part 3” you may want to start there. Otherwise, this may not make sense.
And, here is my disclaimer one more time-because I’m insecure about my skillz as a writer. I mean, does a real writer use “z’s” at the end of her words?
Disclaimer: I am nervous about sharing this. Instead of me being able to use words like “crap” or my made up favorites like “goody-ness”, what I’m about to share will be held to a higher standard. Because it’s part of my hidden soul-my personal writing projects.
Who knows if this will ever go anywhere-but it’s fun to write and to dream. I’d love to hear what you have to say, or maybe I won’t.
*****
Garage Sale Addict (Young Adults)
“Bonnie, I think I want to do another sale.” Rosalyn clicked on the windshield wipers and put Bonnie on speakerphone.
“It’s Thursday, you realize that, right?” Bonnie, still at work, whispered back to her friend.
“I need something to get my mind off of Kyle. I’ve been a wreck all day. Every restaurant, every song, every couple I see holding hands reminds me of him.” Rosalyn took a quick right into a neighborhood and fumbled in her glove box for a tissue. A horn sounded behind her for several seconds.
“What are you doing?”
“Just driving around, trying to find something to do. I had two cancellations today because of the rain.” Rosalyn heard another line ringing in Bonnie’s office. “I’ll let you go, but are you in?”
“Sure. Six a.m. again?” Her friend whimpered.
“Let’s make it seven. And I’ll advertise it online, too.” Rosalyn pulled over to jot down a reminder. Another horn blared as the car whipped past her.
“You are terrorizing our entire town.” Her friend quietly laughed.
“They need to learn some patience.” Rosalyn pulled back into the street, glancing behind her before making her move.
“I think you need to learn how to use a signal.”
“Details, details. Thanks for being a good friend, Bonnie. I need something to distract my mind.” Rosalyn hung up after promising to provide doughnuts for her friend.
She turned the car around and headed for home; ready to sell anything she didn’t absolutely need.
“You’re selling a jar of pickles?” Her friend managed between her fits of laughter on the morning of the sale.
“I don’t need them. I don’t like pickles.” Rosalyn grabbed the jar and moved it away from Bonnie.
“Well, this definitely isn’t as spectacular as the last one. But, I’m sure we’ll sell most of this stuff the way you’ve priced things.” Bonnie sunk her teeth into a chocolate doughnut.
“Even if I don’t, it gave me something to do.” Rosalyn put a price tag on a vase filled to the brim with an old matchbook collection.
“A box of toothpicks, a meat grinder and a set of floral sheets next to an old hamster cage. Strange assortment, Ros.”
“Call it what you will. I call it therapy. Should we open? It’s 7 on the nose.”
“I’m surprised we don’t have anyone banging down the door like last time.” Bonnie wiped her fingers clean with a napkin.
“I know, it’s a bit of a let down, isn’t it?” Rosalyn opened her front door to reveal an empty lawn and an even emptier street.
“Maybe we should add a balloon to the sign?” Bonnie opened the junk drawer to fish out a pink ‘Burger Palace’ balloon.
“You do that and I’ll go check to make sure my ad is still up.” Rosalyn went after her laptop in the living room.
Once Bonnie came back inside, she joined Rosalyn on the couch.
“So, is the ad still up?”
Rosalyn nodded, frowning.
“Maybe we should we take the tables outside this time?”
“Good idea-more exposure.” Rosalyn jumped off the couch.
After propping open the front door, the two carried out the card table Rosalyn had borrowed from her neighbor the night before.
“This looks level, don’t you think?” Bonnie set the table down underneath the shade of the carport.
“You two need some help?” A man called from the street, a dog at his side.
“No, we’re fine. Thank you.” Rosalyn waved him off, glancing at the stranger.
“I just moved in down the street. My name’s Micah.” He called to them, staying at the edge of the driveway.
“Good to meet you, Micah. And it would be wonderful to have your help.” Bonnie called back, ignoring her friend.
“Do you mind if I tie up Spartan while I help you?” Micah walked the length of the driveway. He wore a ‘Border Collie’s Best Friend’ hat.
“What a beautiful face. I should photograph you.” Rosalyn had turned around, eyeing the dog.
“Um, thank you.” Micah’s face turned tomato red.
“Oh, no. I meant your dog.” Rosalyn spit out her explanation, her face turning a similar color.
“And not me?” He smiled. Her mouth went dry.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to help?” Her hands felt moist and she wiped them against her jeans.
“That’s Rosalyn, the weirdo and I’m Bonnie, the normal, by the way. Follow me, Micah. I’ll show you what we need to do.” Bonnie stepped between the two and grabbed his elbow, pushing him ahead of her.
Rosalyn whipped around; fervently rearranging items on the table until her friend and Micah reappeared, carrying another rickety card table.
“Is this good product placement?” Micah lined the table up next to the first, stepped back, and eyed it from several directions.
“That looks good. Thank you.” Rosalyn smiled shyly.
“Wait a second. Are these pickles for sale?” Micah chuckled, holding the jar up.
“They’re brand new and I don’t like pickles.” Her face reverted back to red.
“She’s been through a lot lately, and I support her decision to sell everything. Even her pickles.” Her friend pretended to whisper to Micah, but her voice was still loud enough for Rosalyn to hear.
“Fair enough. Then I won’t ask about anything else on this table. Like for example, the box of q-tips…” He winked at her.
“Unopened.” Rosalyn sighed.
“She’s gone a little whacko, if you ask me.” Bonnie elbowed Rosalyn in the ribs.
“I have not. I don’t need this stuff anymore.” She took a step back from Bonnie, avoiding another elbow jab.
“Like you didn’t need your camera anymore. Do I need to bring that up?”
“Ok, I’ll admit that I got a little crazy this morning.” Rosalyn folded her arms.
“A little? I had to practically arm wrestle you to stop you from selling your camera-and you’re a photographer.” Bonnie muttered.
The two women silently looked at each other, Rosalyn giving her friend ‘the look’. Micah coughed and adjusted his hat.
“I noticed there was one more table left inside. I think I can get it out here by myself.” He scooted back inside the house.
Rosalyn unfolded her arms and watched Micah until he disappeared inside.
“I didn’t mean to pick on you. You’ve got me a little worried, Ros.”
“Worried about what? I’m fine.”
“Ros, you’ve sold almost everything you own. And now the pickles and q-tips?”
“I brought out some things to make it look like there was more for sale. I didn’t want to disappoint people.” Rosalyn coiled a strand of Christmas lights, placing them next to a family of snowmen.
“Nobody expects your garage sale to be like it was last week.” Her friend plopped down in a folding chair.
“I think I’ll do something to make the next one better.” Rosalyn sat down next to her friend.
“The next one? Ros, you haven’t sold a thing this morning.”
“We haven’t been open that long.”
“True. But, still.” Bonnie didn’t finish.
“I need something to get people here. Something to get them excited about my sale again.”
“Ros…” Bonnie’s voice trailed off.
Rosalyn watched Micah as he passed by the window inside of her house.
“He sure is nice to help out, isn’t he?” Her friend smiled.
“I suppose it’s good to get to know your neighbors.” She shrugged.
“It’s even better to have a good-looking neighbor, isn’t it?”
“I hadn’t noticed.” Rosalyn stood up quickly, bumping the table with her backside and knocking over a vase. It shattered as soon as it hit the pavement.
“I’ll go get a broom.” Bonnie smirked, passing Micah on his way out.
“Everything ok?” Micah sat down the table he had been carrying, walking towards Rosalyn.
“I just accidentally knocked something over.” She bent down to pick up several large chunks of glass.
“What was it? Anything important?” He kneeled down next to her to help.
“No, just a vase my Grandma gave me for Valentine’s Day one year. She filled it with lemonheads.”
“Is that your favorite candy?” Micah moved closer to her, retrieving a shard of glass right next to her hand.
“No. She called my boyfriend ‘Lemonhead’ after he had forgotten it was Valentine’s Day.” Rosalyn smiled.
“Your boyfriend?” He frowned.
“My boyfriend at the time; as in ‘no longer’.” Rosalyn’s stomach somersaulted when she looked up at him.
The screen door slammed. Bonnie held up the broom in one hand and a thermos in the other.
“Here we go. Shoo, you two. I’ll get this. I brought out a thermos of coffee for you to share. Drink up.” Bonnie budged in between them, forcing them to comply.
A car door slammed, and a small woman dressed in a pink yoga outfit hopped out.
“Is this the same place you had all that great stuff last week?” The woman yelled from the curb.
“Yes, ma’am.” Rosalyn smiled and waved.
The woman walked up the driveway with a black poodle cradled in her arms. The dog desperately tried to free himself while barking at Spartan.
Spartan lifted an eyebrow and fell back asleep.
“Welcome back.” Rosalyn poured a cup of coffee for Micah.
“Well, where is everything?” The poodle owner scanned the tables, one hand on her hip, the other smashing the dog into her chest.
“This is everything.” Rosalyn removed the price tag from Micah’s mug and handed it to him.
“Well, this is a major disappointment. I drove all the way across town for this?” The woman shook her head.
“Sorry.” Rosalyn shrugged.
“Will you have better stuff next week? Shoosh, Pookie.” The dog didn’t obey, even when the woman clamped its mouth shut with her hand.
“I should…” Rosalyn heard Bonnie harrumph.
“My manicurist told me she bought an original Lucca bag here for $35. She said that you had Marc Tiere vases and Chang belts. But, she must have been mistaken. All you have now is peasant stuff.”
“I promise, it’ll be better next week. I hope you and your friends come back.”
“We’ll see.” The woman snorted, raised her nose in the air and power-walked down the driveway.
“Wow. What kind of a garage sale did you have last week? Seems I missed out.” Micah chuckled.
“Sort of a spring cleaning kind of sale.” Rosalyn looked away.
A silver minivan squealed to a stop at the end of her driveway. Three women piled out from it, each wearing nametags pinned to the left sides of their matching vests.
“We just heard in our crocheting club that you were having another sale. Point us in the direction of Van der Hoessen’s please.” Bev, according to the nametag, spoke first.
“I’m sorry ladies, I sold all of that kind of stuff last week. But I will have a better shipment for next week.” Rosalyn smiled.
“Shipment?” Bonnie whispered to her friend.
“We just left a lecture on how to crochet mittens for this? You have got to be kidding me. What a waste of time.” ‘Eleanor’ threw her hands up in the air.
“Come on, ladies, let’s go. But we’ll be back next week. You’d better deliver the goods.” ‘Bev’ glared at Rosalyn and then Bonnie before huffing back to her minivan.
“Shipment, Ros?” Her friend eyed her.
“I have a plan.” Rosalyn stuck her chin out.
“I can’t wait to see what that is.” Bonnie rolled her eyes.
“Me neither. I’ll be back to help next week if that’s ok.” Micah untied Spartan. The dog jumped to attention from what had been a dead sleep, its tail wagging.
“You are welcome at my house anytime.” She smiled, feeling silly.
“It was nice meeting both of you. And you are welcome at my house, anytime.” He looked straight at Rosalyn.
Micah walked backwards down the driveway, Spartan in tow, waving goodbye.
When he finally made it out of sight, she breathed.
