Always Jane by Jenn Bennett

Author:Jenn Bennett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 2022-03-29T00:00:00+00:00

Track [19] “Mon Autre”/Juniore

Fen

I checked my phone again, waited for her to respond. It had been six minutes since they left the room. What were they doing, signing a lease? That apartment was occupied last week. I know because I saw movers taking furniture away a couple of days ago, and then the blinds disappeared.

It wasn’t the first time I’d seen inside it. I’d voyeuristically peered into that apartment for months when the couple who used to live there opened their blinds. Not like that. It was just their day-to-day living. Watering plants, a cat that slept on the window seat. Nothing sexy.

I told Mama I wanted to live in that apartment building because it was close to the shop. And looked so peaceful. Like freedom. I could picture myself living there and breaking away from my family. It once represented a future of independence to me.

Now it looked like betrayal.

“Stop pacing,” Aunt Pari said, squinting over her glasses at the computer screen as she ticked boxes on a bill of lading. “You’re going to wear out the office carpeting.”

“It’s already worn.”

The office chair squeaked as my aunt swiveled and stuck out her leg to stop me. “You’re driving me strawberries, kid. We’re past bananas and onto strawberries. I love you, but you’ve got to calm down. Go to lunch. That’s where you’re supposed to be anyway. Tom can’t run the register all afternoon. Forget about the apartment and stop pining over this girl.”

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have Jasmine for a mother!”

She laughed and pushed her glasses on top of short, dark curls that matched mine. “No, just an older sister, what do I know? Why do you think I ended up with your uncle? She’s a meddler and a matchmaker. Whatever she’s trying to do, ignore it.”

“You love Uncle Charlie.”

“Sadly, I do. And I blame her. Go to lunch.” She kicked at my ankle to shoo me out, and when I was almost out the door, she called, “By the way, that Tybalt widow wants you to come back tomorrow to work on her record collection. Alone. Now there’s a match for you. Lonely old white lady on the prowl—bet you could make some extra cash servicing more than her collection. Pay me back for those Curtis Mayfield records.”

“You are my least favorite aunt.”

She threw me some folded-up cash. “You are my second favorite nephew. Bring me back some iced tea and I’ll move you up to number one.”

I jogged down the stairs that led onto the sales floor, where I ignored the customers milling around and the fact that Tom was overwhelmed at the front counter. I had to get to the apartment and stop whatever it was Mama thought she was doing. But when I rushed out the front door into the sun and pulled on a pair of dark sunglasses, I stepped onto the sidewalk and came face-to-face with one pixie and a hairless dog.

“Hey,” Jane said, wide-eyed and breathless. Red cheeks. “I was… trying to catch you.

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