Until You Feel At Home

Chapter Five

"I lived there myself for a while when I first opened this place. It's only got the one bedroom. I grew out of it pretty fast." She nodded along to his story and watched as he pulled three keys off the ring. "This is every key that exists to that front door. I'm gonna give you all of them so you know I'm not going to sneak up on you. Young ladies have to be careful these days."

"Thank you." She nodded.

"You're welcome, miss. What's bringing you into town anyways?" He quirked the eyebrow again.

"Oh, I'm here to plan a funeral for a, uh... a family friend."

The other brow raised to meet its partner. "Are you Pierce Bloomfield's step daughter?"

She shook her head. "He never married my mother, so no, not technically. But we were close."

"Mm." The man grunted. "He was more of a father to you than he ever was to his own boy. I think you could call him your step father if you wanted to."

Claire ignored the knot tying in her stomach. "I'm sure he didn't prefer it that way. He wasn't allowed near his son, you can't really blame him."

The man sucked his teeth indifferently. "I might agree with you, young lady, but I would watch who you say that stuff to. People around here don't take well to city girls' opinions on small town scandals. They'll be speaking ill of you instead of the dead." He gave her an expression that showed warning, and concern. She nodded in agreement and took his advice in stride. "That room has a small kitchenette that you can cook on, but it's much easier to come get some food down here. Meals are included, okay, doll?"

"That's very nice of you."

"Well, I do what I can. It's about lunch time now, want me to fix you up something?"

She shook her head, "I was planning on heading to a grocery store after I got my bags in. I should grab a few essentials. Is there one nearby?" Rob gave her directions on how to drive, or walk, to the grocery store on Main Street. The only grocer in town. He insisted that she take an English muffin with her so she could "fuel up" before settling in. He beckoned his cook to carry her bags with her and let her know not to hesitate reaching out if she needed anything, before leaving her to assess her room.

The kitchenette certainly was small. The stove was half the width of the one she had in her apartment, squeezed along one wall with a miniature sink and one cabinet for storage. At least the fridge was full sized. The bathroom had a full tub and a medicine cabinet that Rob had filled with necessities like Band-Aids, ointments and aspirin. The bed was fluffy and soft, but squeaked when she pressed down on it. Rob had pointed out the internet cable she could plug into her laptop if she needed, and showed her the DVDs in the entertainment center under the TV. It felt homie, and warm, and made her think she might actually get a full night's sleep sometime soon.

There was a small dresser she placed her clothing into, and a surprisingly well lit bathroom that would do nicely when she was putting on makeup. She briefly wondered what the appropriate amount of makeup was for a funeral, but she suppressed that train of thought and replaced it with the makings of a shopping list.

She realized Rob's directions to the grocery store were highly unnecessary. Claire got in her car, drove a few blocks, made a left at Main Street, and she was there. She was correct in assuming Main Street would be the busiest spot in Earnston, it seemed. She was relieved to see everything she could need so close together and right around the corner. Food, pharmacy, dollar store, coffee shop, bank. The grocery store was only the size of a Trader Joe's back home, but it occupied the most space on the strip.

She was going to have to adjust her diet. The food she'd gotten used to in Boston was starting to feel like a luxury. The store had a whole corner of fresh flowers to make bouquets with, but no milk alternatives. No gluten free options. Claire ended up checking out a couple bottles of juice, eggs, bread, butter, cereal. Some deli meat, ice cream and potato chips. Misery needed company, and her company would be carbohydrates and salt.

There was only one conveyor belt running, which was well enough since there were only two other people in line. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but she caught bits and pieces of the conversations that took place before her. The check out woman, wearing a tag labeled 'Nancy,' asked thoughtful questions like, "How's your son, is his leg still in the cast? Is he going to get to play again before the season is over? Oh, that's a shame. His team doesn't stand a chance without him." It didn't occur to Claire that, when it was her turn, there's be nothing to discuss.

The beeping of her items was deafening when paired with the silence at the register. Claire had to find something to say. The flowers in the corner caught her eye again. "I was wondering," She started, "I saw your flowers. Is there a florist in the area?"

The clerk's face turned smug. "Are you here visiting someone?"

Claire was taken aback by how forward she was. She remembered Rob's warning. "I'm here to plan Pierce Bloomfield's funeral."

"Oh, dear." She turned sympathetic. "I had heard he passed. I'm sorry for your loss. I didn't know he had any other children."

"He didn't. He was like a step-dad to me."

"Mm." Nancy resumed scanning. "Well, if you're looking for flowers for the service, don't even stress yourself. The funeral home will do all that for you."

"Thank you." Claire said as she drew her wallet from her pocket.

"It's Brandon that's going to give you the most trouble, I bet. How do you plan on handling him?" Claire's fingers slipped and the wallet fell, bouncing off the conveyor belt onto the floor. She was shocked at the balls on this woman.

"What do you mean?" Was all she could manage to say, as she bent down to gather her change.

"You know how he is. He's not going to make this easy for you."

"I've never met him. What do you mean, 'how he is'?"

She snorted and grinned like their conversation was the most entertaining part of her day. "You've got your work cut out for you, kid. Your total is $32."

Claire paid without a sound, now grateful for the silence that had made her so uncomfortable, and let her mind wander while she walked back to her car. She tried to recall all the stories she'd heard from Pierce and from her mom about the Bloomfields. She couldn't remember anything that sounded like a red flag or a cause for panic. She knew that Brandon's mom was furious when he left, but who wouldn't be? What did that have to do with Brandon anyways?

Her stomach was turning when she got back to the flat. She figured she'd take Rob up on his offer before fully settling into her room. When she walked through the door this time, she got his attention without having to try. She sat on a bar stool and he leaned on the counter in front of her.

"Do you have cheeseburgers, Rob?"

"You want bacon on it, too?"

Claire nodded and leaned her head on her palm. Rob shouted back to the kitchen to the cook, who Claire had learned was Rob's son, who went by Bobby. "Bacon burger and fries, son!" he turned back to her and nodded. "Coming right up."

"Thanks." She clicked her nails on the countertop, trying to decide if she was going to trust the man in front of her. She was already trusting him with her food, how about her feelings? "Am I going to have to explain who I am to everyone I meet in the town?" She asked.

He smiled playfully and shook his head. "I promise you, Miss Claire, everyone already knows exactly who you are. It only takes an hour or two for word to spread."

For some reason, that made her feel worse.

Claire pulled out her phone and opened her texts to her most recent conversation with her mom. She'd sent Brandon's phone number to Claire with the message, "I told his mom you'd let him know when you got there." She copied and pasted the number into a text box, and typed message after message, deleting and trying again. She settled on 'Hi, this is Claire Townsend. I arrived in Earnston. Can we meet tomorrow to start discussing funeral arrangements?'

She stared at the message for what could have been 30 seconds or 30 minutes, but once Rob dropped the plate of food in front of her she hit send and set her phone to silent. She would read whatever he sent back on her own time.