02

I don’t even change out of my gown. I begin to gather everything that looks like it belongs to him- his photo frames of his family and important clients, his Yankee baseball collection, even work he’s left out. I begin to pile it together in a rage.

I make it through the entire house within an hour.

And I’m left staring at a mess in my living room. A mess that he better have out tonight. My phone rings as I’m changing into jeans and a blouse.

« Iris Tremaine. »

« Hi, Iris. I was just going over the stitch work in the floral dress. I’m thinking we should redo it. »

« Why ? »

« Because I really don’t know who tried to do it but it looks half-assed. »

An idea pops into my head- an evil but necessary one. « No, don’t fix it yet. Have it sent to my office and I’ll get it done. »

« … Are you sure ? »

« Very. It’s late, Oli. Go home. »

« I know, I know. I’m going. »

« Now, honey. » I hang up, dialing the number for my driver. Eric picks up within seconds.

« Hello ? »

« Hey, can you be outside in five ? »

« You’re the boss. Where we headed ? »

« Brooklyn. »

…

Eric walks over to help me as I hold the front door open, carrying a bag of laundry. He takes it, smiling softly.

Having been with me for almost a year now, he knows that my visit’s to Marco’s laundry mat in Brooklyn is a calming mechanism for me. A form of meditation. It doesn’t matter that I have a washer and dryer in the house- I go there to think.

I get into the backseat of my other form of transportation, a black, bulletproof SUV. As Eric sets down the bag beside me, I reach for my phone, emailing Viktor.

Subject : Vik,

Can you please arrange for a moving vehicle ? Pay them whatever they want to charge but I need them at the house tonight- as long as it takes to get Marcus out. He told me he’d be home around ten so have them there by then.

Iris Tremaine

CEO of Tremaine Franchises

I hit send and set the phone onto my lap, closing my eyes, exhausted. Always prompt, he writes back within seconds.

Subject : Yikes-

Sure thing, birthday girl. You sure this is what you want to do ?

Viktor Marcell

Executive Assistant to Miss Iris Tremaine

Subject : RE : Vik,

Yes.

Iris Tremaine

CEO of Tremaine Franchises.

…

Eric pulls over to the side of the street, a block away from the mat per my request. I grab the bag and look up at him. « Shouldn’t be more than an hour. I know it’s late. »

« No rush. »

I smile, exhaling and open the door, stepping out onto the sidewalk. I can see the lit up sign of the laundry mat I’ve been going to since I was a child. I come here almost every week to wind down- I have no idea what the hell is wrong with me but being here, amongst my old stomping grounds, calms me.

I grab the handle on the door, holding it open wide for an older woman, dragging a basket full of clothes. She nods, smiling. As she passes by though, the contents of my bag spill out onto the floor. She gasps but I shake my head, letting her know I can get it.

As she passes by, I bend down, gathering the clothes, unaware of the man bending down beside me. I see him reach down and gasp, looking to my side. Noticing immediately that he looks homeless, I stare at him, shaking my head.

« No, it’s really okay. Thank you- you don’t have to. »

My face heatens as I reach out for a pair of lace panties that are completely visible. He doesn’t answer me though- he deposits the clothes into the bag and stands up. I pick the bag up and grunt uncomfortably, licking my lips as I try to get a good look at the man that’s so clearly hiding his face from me.

« Thank you. »

Face tilted down, I watch him nod towards the ground. I study his face for a moment, wondering if he can speak English. His face is concealed by a large golden brown beard. His clothes are surprisingly clean though. He turns, walking back to the bench against the glass. His hair is long and blondish-brown. I can’t even tell which color is more prominent.

I suddenly realize that I’m standing on the sidewalk, staring at a homeless man with awe and become embarrassed. I turn and walk into the mat, smiling when the owner, Gustavo, claps his hands together excitedly upon seeing me.

« Iris ! I’ve been wondering when you’d finally come see me again. »

« I was here exactly a week ago, » I murmur, chuckling as I make my way over to his desk. He’s chubby, always eating but a complete sweetheart. Wouldn’t harm a fly. His choice of food today is Pringles and I shake my head when he offers me some silently.

« You’re skin and bones. You need to eat something other than lettuce and water, huh ? »

« I had a burger tonight, thank you very much. »

« Oh ? »

« Topped with bacon, nevertheless. »

« I’m proud, » he says amusedly. I glance over at the window, leaning in closer to him.

« Can I ask you a question ? »

« Anything, my love. »

« Do you know that man outside ? I feel like I’ve seen him before. »

« You probably have. He practically lives out there, comes in every once in a while to clean his clothes. He’s been doing it for a year now. »

« Do you know his name ? »

« No, he’s never told me. Why ? You want him ? »

I chuckle, shaking my head. « Jesus, Gus. It was just a question. »

« Well, you know how jealous I get… One day you’ll say yes to marrying me. »

« I like you too much to put you through that, » I utter, shrugging as I make my way over to an open washer. I hear him laugh but he doesn’t respond, knowing I come here to be alone.

I take my detergent and softener out of the bag, reminded of the man outside. My eyes flicker over to the window and I take in the fact that the man is reading. The book looks tattered but I can’t make out what it is. He glances up into the window, probably having felt eyes on him and I go red, focusing back on what I’m doing.

Jesus, Tremaine. Get ahold of yourself.

I hear the door open and look up, feeling my stomach drop as Marcus stands in the threshold. He’s still in the suit he left the house in this morning although he’s lost his tie. His dark hair is short and freshly cut- I did it for him just yesterday.