- Sheri McGuinn
- 5 days ago
- 9 min read
She was running through an abandoned building, a maze of walls sending her first one way, then another. Someone or some thing was running along with her, just out of sight. As they neared the end, daylight poured through the missing wall of the building under construction. She slid to a stop inches short of the edge and realized the specter was right there, in the corner of her vision. As she turned to look at it directly, a tinny version of Happy Birthday pulled her mind away. She reached with eyes shut, poked at the cell phone to silence the alarm, and rolled over, trying to recapture the spooky dream she’d had for the last three nights.
The alarm renewed its efforts to get her up and going. Janie rolled onto her back, opened her eyes to the morning light, and sighed. That lousy music was the only birthday greeting she was likely to get. She had planned it as a present to herself. Now she realized it was a stupid idea; she should have tried to forget it was her birthday. The alarm just made her start the day keenly aware that there was no one who cared about her, no one in the entire world.
She grabbed the phone and turned off the alarm. It was already half past six. Enough self-pity; it was time to get ready for work. She pulled up the covers and carefully slid out to stand. Grabbing the comforter off the floor, she quickly fanned it out to cover the bed and tossed the pillows on top. Foster Mother Number Three had always insisted the bed be made on rising and the dishes done as soon as a meal was over. The rest of the house could be a wreck, but if those two rituals were followed, it looked like you were taking care of things.
Appearances, that’s what counted with most people, especially Jeremy’s mother. If she started thinking back to that, she’d have trouble making it through the day. Jeremy’s mother would never believe the landlord was the only one who had ever seen her cottage, or that there’d been no reason for him to look at the bedroom.
Janie loved the place. She could hear and smell the ocean when her window was open and the breeze blew in from the sea. Her plan had been to sleep in her car until she got a job, but here on the west coast even the temp agencies wouldn’t take her without a local address. The bungalow had felt like home on first sight. So she’d chanced her savings to rent the little house. The next day she signed up with two temp agencies and got a graveyard shift at the Denny’s down the road. She was smart, reliable, and always did more than she was asked to do, so soon she was working day and night.
After several months, the references she built landed her the second administrative assistant position at a small law firm. Number One didn’t like her much. Maybe she wouldn’t have liked sharing her duties with anyone, but every time one of the lawyers was pleasant to Janie, Number One stared at her as if she had a disease. The woman was probably sure Janie had slept her way into the job, but she hadn’t. Foster Family Number Six had taught her the perils of having sex with anyone who had power over you of any kind. She would always leave a job rather than go that route, no matter what she lost in the process.
She still worked the graveyard at Denny’s on Saturday nights, and if someone called in at the last minute, she’d help out during the week. In the year she’d been there, they’d gone through three night managers. The fourth had only been there a week and already was looking for other work diligently. It was too hard to maintain a relationship or a life of any kind, working in the middle of the night. Janie watched movies and slept every Sunday, so she’d be ready for her day job. She’d gotten into the habit of going to bed by eight, too, so she’d get a few hours of sleep first if they called without notice for her to fill in on a weeknight. Then she’d go home long enough to clean up and change, work at the office all day, and go straight to bed as soon as she got home to make up for the sleep she’d missed.
No wonder she didn’t have a life outside of work.
But it was better than being in love with someone who’d let you down. She’d made that mistake once. Never again; she’d rather be alone the rest of her life. Besides, her savings account was growing so fast, when she got her week off, she’d be able to fly to Hawaii and not worry about the costs. If she could just make herself do it, she could have a vacation fling where no one got hurt. Maybe then she could forget Jeremy.
As soon as she landed this job, she’d gotten rid of her car, which also got rid of insurance, gas, maintenance, and repairs. If she wanted to drive out of town, she could rent a car cheaper than owning one she rarely used. Public transit worked fine for both jobs—except this morning. She’d have been late in a car, too, if she’d gotten caught in the same traffic jam, but she’d also missed the bus she usually took to get to work early. Number One didn’t say anything when Janie rushed in twenty minutes late, but her disgusted look made it clear that she assumed there’d been a wild night.
“Traffic jam,” Janie said without making eye contact.
She felt guilty about missing the early bus. She put away her purse and got right to work. She pretended Number One’s disbelieving huff wasn’t directed at her. If she kept focusing on business and doing more than her share, hopefully the woman would eventually come around and be nicer.
The morning went quickly. There was always plenty to do, and that suited Janie. It gave her less time to think about her birthday and the lack of anyone in her life. She couldn’t even get a cat; her lease did not allow pets of any kind.
Then, just before lunch, the florist arrived with a dozen red roses. He asked for Janie.
“That’s me, but who sent them?”
“I don’t know, ma’am. There’s no card, just your name and the address.”
He handed her the bouquet and made a hasty exit. Janie put it down on her desk and stared at the flowers as if they might attack. Number One broke the silence by opening a desk drawer and pulling out a vase. She carried it out of the office without a word. Janie leaned back away from the roses, her breath shallow. Who could have sent them? She’d been so careful not to give any of the attorneys reason to think she even noticed them as people. Was she going to have to start all over again? Would she need to move away? She didn’t have a car. She couldn’t load up and go so easily; she didn’t want to leave her home. But at least she wouldn’t have anyone she cared about to leave behind this time… And maybe she wouldn’t have to move—this wasn’t a small town. Maybe she could find another job and keep her little home. Or maybe it was just a birthday gift. They had her birth date for payroll. Maybe Number One would get flowers on her birthday, too.
The woman returned with the vase half full of water. Janie still sat back, staring at the flowers, trying to figure out who had sent them and what it meant.
“They’ll die sooner if you don’t get them right into water,” said Number One. She picked up Janie’s scissors and began cutting each stem diagonally before putting it into the vase. She took her time; it was obvious she loved flowers. “I never get roses on my birthday,” she complained after the third one went into water.
“You knew it was my birthday?” Janie asked.
Number One peered over her glasses. “Of course; it was on your application.”
“Do you know who sent the roses?”
“No. You don’t?” Number One paused with the fifth rose held above the vase.
Janie shook her head. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the room, or she couldn’t pull it into her lungs.
“You’re not seeing anyone?” Number One asked.
“No, no one. I don’t know anyone here.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not out half the night sometimes.”
“Waitressing, I still fill in sometimes if they need someone at Denny’s. I was working there before I started here.”
“Well, we don’t exactly have a rule against moonlighting, but you don’t function as well on those days.”
“I know. I’ve been thinking of telling them I can’t do it anymore, but it’s hard.”
“Why?”
This was the longest conversation Janie had ever had with Number One, and she really didn’t want to get into it. The woman went back to cutting stems and placing the roses into the vase, and then arranged them artistically when she was done.
“You don’t think you’re paid enough here?” Number One demanded as she threw away the wrapping and bits of stem.
“I’m trying to build up my savings. They were pretty much exhausted when I started here. I like the security of having money in the bank.”
“So you really are coming in half asleep because you’re working at a restaurant?”
Janie looked directly at Number One and nodded. “I have no life outside of work. So who would have sent me these flowers?”
“Maybe your old boss sent them, the one from that little town in Kansas.”
Janie’s stomach knotted tighter than it already had been. “How did you know about that? How did you know I worked in Kansas?” She hadn’t put anything on her application prior to her work with the temp agencies here. She’d let them assume she’d been in school before that.
“You signed permission for a background check. Did you think I’d stop with all those references less than a year old?”
Janie blanched. “You called my employer back there?”
“Of course. This is a small office. Who else would make the calls?”
The flowers couldn’t be from him. Could they? “Did you tell them you were hiring me?”
“I couldn’t convince Mr. Adams he should rescind the offer he’d already made, even though you’d been duplicitous on the application.”
“But you told them I’d be working here?” Janie asked.
“I suppose they could have made that assumption.”
“Why did you think that boss would send me flowers?”
Number One ignored the question and went back to her desk. “You can take the first lunch break, but reduce it by those twenty minutes you were late,” she said.
“What did they tell you?” Janie demanded. When she got no response, she continued, “They’re not supposed to tell you anything except whether or not I worked there and whether they’d rehire me.”
“Well, they certainly wouldn’t rehire you,” said Number One. “And since you hadn’t put them down as an employer, the woman I spoke with felt free to say more than she would have otherwise.”
“What did she tell you?”
Number One spat out the answer. “That you were fired for sexually inappropriate advances you made toward your supervisor.”
“None of that was true. I quit.”
“Really?”
It was clear Number One didn’t believe her. No wonder the woman had been so cold. How would she ever be able to leave those lies and all the pain they’d caused behind when this could happen? She’d lost everything, and had worked so hard to build a new life and it was never going to work out right.
Janie let out the breath she’d been holding and the tears she’d contained for months poured freely. She pulled out a shopping bag she’d stuffed into her bottom drawer and began putting her personal items into it. “I didn’t make any advances. I threatened to sue him for harassment and he turned the story around before I could tell anyone what he’d tried to do.” The last of her things in the bag, Janie stood up. Number One started to speak, but Janie interrupted her. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t pass on those lies to anyone else. You can keep the roses.”
“Stop, you stop right there.” Number One’s tone was commanding. Janie stopped and watched as the woman came around her desk.
“I owe you an apology,” said Number One. “I thought you were putting on a show for me when you always dodged compliments, especially since Mr. Adams insisted on hiring someone who had lied on their application. That’s not normal for him, so I thought—well, I thought wrong. He was probably too impressed with your recommendations here to believe that nonsense without giving you a chance. I should have been as smart. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. Everyone else believed him. Even Jeremy, my fiancé, had doubts.”
“You poor thing—no wonder you work so much; it keeps you busy.”
“I guess that is part of it,” admitted Janie as she allowed herself to be led back to her seat. “It was his mother, really. She never thought I was good enough for him. All those rumors gave her the reason she needed to insist he break it off.”
“Don’t leave. You’re the best person we’ve ever found for this job.”
Janie smiled up at Number One, struggling to remember her first name and not finding it. “Thank you, Mrs. Henry.” That’s how Number One answered the phone.
“Please, call me Liz. We’re not a large enough operation for that kind of formality,” Number One replied. “Well, these roses are beautiful, whoever sent them. It wasn’t your old boss, not unless he was trying to cause trouble for you here.”
“No,” said Janie. “It wasn’t him.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the sender of roses as he walked into the office. She didn’t need to turn her head to know it was Jeremy.
Audio for The Spectre, a spooky romantic story, is available at
©Sheri McGuinn
