Ghosts of Christmas Past

Chapter Four

Emily was surprised at how quickly she fell asleep after the hot shower. She still didn't have any towels. She'd not taken any from the condo. She hadn't wanted anything that Jake had any claim to. Instead, she'd dried off with a faux-vintage Rolling Stones t-shirt and then changed into sweats and another t-shirt to sleep in. She hadn't even realized that she'd gone to sleep until she heard footsteps.

Her eyes snapped open, and she listened carefully to the house. Had that been part of her dream, brought on by what she thought she'd seen last night? Or was it really happening? She lay perfectly still, scanning the room for anything out of place.

The trash bags with her clothes were in the corner of the bedroom, where she'd moved after Leo had left. She could see them without moving. The bedroom door was ajar, just as she'd left it, and she could see a little of the hallway. Her phone was on the floor beside her.

She relaxed a little. She'd imagined it, of course. The house had been thoroughly checked—by her, by the police, by Leo. There were no footsteps in the house because no one was in the house except her. She touched the screen of her phone to check the time. Just after seven am. She shut her eyes again. Maybe she would sleep another hour.

After all, she had no place to be right now—no job, no prospects, no friends. Her eyes snapped open, and she rolled to her back, staring up at the ceiling. This was a crazy thing to do. She had overreacted to things before, but this time really took the prize. It was only two nights ago that she'd caught Jake and Mika in her bed. And, in the space of that time, she'd quit her job, cleared out her things from the condo, found a rental house on the internet in a town that she hadn't lived in for over a dozen years, and then moved there.

She smiled to herself, not sure if it was a girl-you're-crazy smile or an okay-I-accept-that-I'm-crazy smile. Didn't matter. It was crazy, but there was no turning back now. She just had to find a way to keep moving forward. She had already burned that bridge behind her.

Emily traced the pattern of popcorn on the ceiling. She really should get a job. She'd used all of her most recent paycheck plus some of her savings already, renting this place and getting here. And now, here she was, sleeping on the floor with no furniture, no dishes, no towels, no food.

"You didn't just burn the bridge behind you, Em," she whispered. "You set it on fire and then started running across."

She pushed her coat/blanket off and sat up. No sense in laying around all day. She had things to do. She'd have to get some food, for sure. And an actual blanket. And a pillow. And a bed. And her tablet was in a box in the back of the car, but she'd need to get to the library to have internet access.

Then, she'd have to update her resume. Then start the application process. Two weeks before Christmas was about the worst time to be looking for a job. Even at her old job, they had already hired all the seasonal help they needed by November 1. But she would have to find something. She would not be able to make it financially until March, when the market picked up again. If she didn't find a job soon, she'd have to ask her parents for a loan, and that would bring up questions she didn't want to answer.