Page 42 of September (New Orleans #9)

S he had five dogs on their leashes, and only one of them was attempting to take the lead while the others were all well-behaved.

Gwen laughed and gave a short tug on the leash of the tiny offender, the chihuahua she’d started walking earlier in the week.

This little guy was the typical tiny animal who thought he was much bigger than he was, but he was good with the other dogs.

Gwen laughed again when he barked at the German shepherd, who looked down at him in disbelief.

Then, she looked up and realized that they were in front of the chihuahua’s house. It was time to drop the little guy off.

Once the tiny dog was safely back at home, probably getting ready to bark at anyone who walked by the window that overlooked the street, Gwen could go a little faster.

The shepherd was dropped off first, followed by a poodle and a husky who hated the heat and was very happy the moment she got him into his air-conditioned apartment.

Lastly, she dropped off a shy Pomeranian who was always happy just to be outside and get any attention from Gwen who sat on the floor in the kitchen and made sure to pet him, rub his ears, and toss his toys for him for a few minutes before she finally left and went to go visit her favorite feline client.

Then, it was time to get home and take care of her own pet, who needed his terrarium cleaned.

Gwen decided to stop by a pet store on the way to find him a new decorative rock that he could hide in since his old one had seen better days, and he might like a change in scenery.

When she got to her usual place where she also purchased Larry’s food, she took a chance.

“Hey, you don’t have any geckos, do you?” she asked.

“Geckos?” the guy who looked about eighteen asked from behind the counter. “I think we do. I’ll have to check, though. I don’t work back in that part of the store.”

“It’s okay. I can find it,” she said and walked to the back of the store, where the reptile and amphibian items were.

There, she checked out a few of the tanks, and there was a small snake that she walked right past because she had never liked snakes, no matter their size.

“Did I hear you were looking for a gecko?” another guy with a store name tag asked as he approached.

“Yeah. I have a reef gecko at home, and I was thinking about getting him a buddy or a girlfriend, maybe.”

“We don’t have any, but there’s a reptile store I can recommend. They should have some in, but if they don’t, they can get you one,” he said.

“Oh, okay. I still need to get Larry a rock.”

“Larry?”

“My gecko.”

“You named him Larry?”

“He felt like a Larry,” she said with a shrug.

The store employee laughed before leaving her alone to look for Larry’s new hiding spot, and when she found what she wanted and left, it was with the business card of the reptile store where she could maybe find Larry someone to hang out with.

Deciding to walk to the bus stop before taking it home, she looked up to cross the street and noticed something.

“You should get it.”

Gwen turned to see an old woman standing there next to her at the traffic light.

“Sorry?” Gwen asked. “Do you need me to press the button for you?”

“The van,” the old woman with kind eyes replied and nodded toward a white van that had a ‘For Sale’ sign in the passenger side window.

“How did you–”

“It’s perfect for what you need, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” Gwen said. “I mean, it’s the right size, but I don’t know how old it is or if it needs work or anything.” She looked at the van and the woman. “Is it yours? Are you selling it?”

“No,” the woman said with a head shake. “Not mine. Just thought you should know that you should buy it.”

“I should?”

“Yes. It’s yours already, really,” the woman said. “Well, it will be soon, and once it is, good things will happen.” Her smile widened.

“If I buy a van, good things will happen?”

“All of our actions or inactions have good and bad consequences, don’t they?”

“Is this a butterfly effect thing? Like, if I don’t buy the van, it rolls down the street and kills someone because the parking brake wasn’t on or something?”

“No. But you’ve been looking for a sign, haven’t you? This is it.”

“How do you know what I’ve been looking for? Who are you, exactly?”

Gwen saw the light change then but made no attempt to cross the street.

“No one important. I just pay attention to things, and when I feel like I need to speak up, I do,” the old woman replied. “And you should get it.”

“The van?”

“Yes, the van.” The woman laughed as if Gwen had just said something ridiculous. “It’s the one.”

Gwen still wasn’t sure how this woman had known that she’d been looking at the van that was sandwiched between a pick-up truck and another car, but she was right. The van was solid white and seemed to be the kind she would need for the business she wanted to run out of it.

“I’ll leave you here,” the woman added.

“But how did you know?” Gwen asked.

“I just did,” the woman said, smiled, and walked down the sidewalk.

Gwen stared after her for a few more seconds until the light changed, and she could no longer walk.

She used the time to write down the phone number on the sign in the van and walked, when she was able, across the street to take a closer look.

Never knowing much about cars, she had no idea what to look for.

The tires looked relatively new, though, and when she peered inside the window, the interior looked clean and also appeared somewhat new, which probably meant it was too expensive for her.

“Can I help you?”

Gwen looked up at a man who was now standing on the sidewalk, rubbing his hands on a rag.

“Oh. Do you know who owns this?” she asked. “There’s no price or anything.”

“You’re interested?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said.

“It’s mine.” He nodded.

“Oh, great.”

“It’s a 2017. Practically new, really. The back is empty. I used it for carting things back and forth, primarily, but everything works. Battery was replaced about six months ago. The tires are only a year old, and I drive it locally, so not a lot of miles on her, either.”

“Okay. If I wanted to take a look, could I?”

“Sure,” he replied. “Let me get my wife out here. She’s the real car expert and the one who bought it for me.”

Gwen laughed and said, “A woman after my own heart.”

The man laughed and said, “Give me a sec. I’ll be right back.”

Gwen waited until a woman in her mid-fifties walked out of the building.

“Interested in the van?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’d love to take a look inside and maybe take it for a test drive.”

“Sure. I can open the back for you, and we can take her for a drive, if you want. She’s dependable. No issues so far. We’re only selling her because my husband is retiring and we’re moving. He’s going to get a fishing boat, and I might never see him again,” the woman joked.

“Can I call someone to see if they can test drive with me?”

“No problem. I’m just packing, so I’ve got time. Let me open the back for you, though.”

Gwen picked up her phone and dialed.

“Hey,” Myra answered.

“Do you know anything about cars?” Gwen asked her.

“Some. Why?”

“Because I might be buying a van, and I don’t want to make a mistake.”

“Oh, okay. Where are you?”

Gwen gave her the cross streets.

“I can be there in about twenty minutes. Is that okay?”

“Yes. Thank you,” she replied.

Gwen and the woman then walked around the van, and the woman explained the basics to her, probably realizing that she knew nothing about cars.

When Myra appeared, they got into the van, with Gwen behind the wheel and Myra in the passenger seat.

Gwen drove the van around the block, and Myra suggested that she take it on the highway, too.

Thirty minutes later, they returned to the woman who had been trusting enough to let them drive it without her.

She gave Myra more information, and Myra seemed to understand it.

When the woman left them alone to discuss, Gwen turned to Myra and gave her an expression that begged for her help.

“It’s good, from what I can tell, but I’d still recommend having a mechanic check it out before you sign anything or hand over money. The price seems good to me.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yeah, but I’m not an expert in vans.”

“You know more than I do,” she said.

Myra laughed and replied, “Maybe, but I’d take it to a mechanic that you choose and have them do a once-over. I know someone who can do it for you, if you want. I wouldn’t want you to find out later that it’s a lemon.”

“Makes sense,” she agreed, looking at the woman who was checking out something on her phone. “Would I be able to get it checked out by a mechanic?” she asked.

“Sure,” the woman replied. “We’re looking to offload her quick, so I’ll even drive her wherever you want to have her looked at.”

With Myra’s help, Gwen was able to have a mechanic, Myra’s second cousin, check out the van only an hour later, and after another hour of his time, he nodded and cleaned his hands on a rag much like the man who owned the van had done earlier.

The van needed an oil change, according to the inspection, but everything else looked good, so Gwen turned to the woman.

“I want her,” she said.

“Great,” the woman replied.

They drove back to the owner’s house, where Myra left them to get back to work, and they worked out the final price and the paperwork. Unable to believe how it had all worked out, Gwen left as the proud new owner of a van she’d now have to find parking for at her apartment building.

“Gwen?”

“Hey, Bridge,” she said to Bridgette, who was walking toward her with Monica in tow.

“What are you doing out this way?”

“Buying a van,” she said and motioned to the vehicle to her left.

“You bought a van?” Bridgette asked.

“She’s all mine, yes,” she replied.

“Um… Why did you buy a van?”

“I’m going to run my own mobile grooming business. Know anyone with a dog who might need their nails clipped and a good bath?”

Monica laughed and said, “I can’t think of anyone, but I’ll let you know if I do. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thanks. What are you two doing out here?”

“Restocking cards, and we have a new Halloween line we just dropped off to a few of the stores on this street.”

“Halloween cards?”

“They’re funny, so they sell well in the tourist shops,” Bridgette said and took Monica’s hand.

“How’s the wedding planning going? I was at Candace’s last night, and she’s planning hers now, I guess. She’s going a little crazy, I think.”

“We’re pretty chill about it,” Bridgette said.

Monica laughed and added, “ I’m chill. She’s not.” She shook her head.

“I’m chill,” Bridgette defended.

“ Now , maybe. But not in the beginning.”

“You can’t blame me for that. Your family is all rich and fancy, and I don’t want them to think we’re having some kind of swamp wedding.”

“They don’t think that, babe. They love you.”

“They blame me for you moving down here.”

“No, they don’t,” Monica replied. “They like that I live down here. You know how much my dad loves Louisiana. And Aaron is here already,” she added of her stepson. “So, you’re just a mild bridezilla and need to admit it.”

“I’m not having beige napkins at my wedding. That’s my one thing.”

“Sure. We’ll pretend you only had one thing,” Monica replied and leaned into her fiancée’s side.

“You should come,” Bridgette said to Gwen.

“To the wedding?”

“Yeah. We invited Myra, and she’s bringing Elisa now. You should come, too.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. We only just met. I don’t expect–”

“No, you should. Contrary to Bridgette’s crazy planning, it really will be a relaxed day. I want to be married to her. The wedding is great, but it’s about more than that for us.”

“She’s right,” Bridgette added. “You should come.”

“Okay. Well, I guess I can. I don’t want to ask too much of you, but any chance I could get a plus-one? If not, totally okay.”

Bridgette lifted an eyebrow and said, “A plus-one to a wedding that’s months away?”

Gwen rolled her eyes at herself and said, “Yes, I have a new girlfriend. And if I don’t screw it up, she might just want to go with me.”

“We’ve been out of the gossip loop,” Bridgette replied. “What’s her name for the invitation?”

“Juliet Francis.”

“I’ll be sure to make that look pretty with my calligraphy pen.”

“You have a calligraphy pen?”

“She does. She handmade our save-the-dates, but she thinks she’s been chill this whole time,” Monica teased.

“Well, if it’s not too much trouble, that would be great.”

“I’ll text you later to get your address,” Bridgette said. “But we’ve got to run. More cards to stock.”

“We’ve got to make money to afford those calligraphy classes she took,” Monica added.

“It was one class. Shut up.” Bridgette laughed. “We’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good,” Gwen replied and watched them walk off.

Then, she turned and looked at the van she’d just purchased, using up a lot of her savings but not all of it, which meant she could probably afford to redo the inside without having to wait or use the trust fund money.

“This is crazy,” she said to herself and got behind the wheel.

It would take her some getting used to, driving this big thing around on the small streets of New Orleans and into parking spots, but she’d figure it out.

What was important was that she had done it; she’d bought the van she had wanted for years.

Now, instead of going to her apartment, she knew there was only one place she wanted to be to show off her new purchase.