The Diary Dilemma Read online

  The Diary Dilemma

  Elle Limpkin

  Copyright © 2021 Elle Limpkin

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Blank Pages

  Out of Place

  Party

  Expectations

  An Unexpected Change

  The First Encounter

  Polly

  Gray

  New Problems

  Far Away

  Christmas Again

  Road Trip

  A New Lead

  Snowmen

  The Mysterious Man

  Loyalty

  In the Dark

  In Too Deep

  Next Step

  I Need a Wife

  A Quick Goodbye

  Half an Hour

  The End is Near

  The Beginning

  Books By This Author

  Blank Pages

  The fountain pen pierced through the paper as Eda wrote.

  Today...

  Her hand hovered over the page. If she found a way to finish the sentence, she’d put this entire episode behind. But all she could do was stare at the page as blank as her life. The lines blurred. Eda Hansen wiped the cold tears pouring down her cheek and refocused her attention on the diary.

  There was no point. She found nothing worth putting on paper. Nothing had happened that day, the day before, or the years before. A new rebel tear burst, landing on the single word she’d written. With shaky hands, Eda shut the diary, propelling it against the wall, then watching as gravity pulled it towards the hardwood floor. That was no way to treat a gift from one of her dearest friends. Filled with remorse, she shuffled and picked it up again, the tips of her fingers walking along the ridges of the leather cover.

  The root of her problem was not the diary. It wasn’t even her old friend, a remnant of her high school years of glory, a friend with whom she spoke three times a year at most.

  When did her life become so empty?

  Eda threw herself on the couch, video-dialing the person who could alleviate her dark thoughts, with her finger hovering over the end call button as she waited.

  After half a minute, a messy version of Polly filled the screen. “For heaven’s sake, girl! What happened?” She made no effort to conceal her yawn or make herself more presentable.

  “Oh, no! Did I wake you?” Eda asked the obvious.

  “It’s midnight here! What did you think? Joe Jr. wakes me up at 5. Every. Single. Morning. As if he has an alarm clock in his tiny little rear.”

  Eda’s gaze shifted to the corner of the screen, still refusing to admit she’d been stuck on one sentence for four hours. “Um... I’ll let you sleep.”

  Polly’s face came so close to the camera that her pores became visible. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” answered Eda, as detached as she could.

  “You didn’t wake me up in the middle of the night because nothing happened, pumpkin!”

  “Pumpkin?”

  “Your eyes are swollen from crying.”

  “No, they’re not!”

  “Fine, they’re not. But now I’m awake and curious. What’s wrong? And if I have to ask one more time, I’ll send my boys to live with you for an entire month.”

  Now that was a terrifying thought! Eda had maintained decent contact with children before she moved to New York, but Polly’s boys were a duet from hell. Shaking her head thoroughly to push away the image taking shape in her mind, Eda searched for a way to compress her issue into a single sentence. “I got the diary you sent me.”

  “Isn’t it cute?” Polly’s lips cornered up. “It looks exactly like that one you had in high school.”

  “I know. I ended up writing algorithms in that one.”

  “As I kept repeating, that’s not what a diary is for,” her friend stated between yawns. “This time, you’re forbidden to use it for anything other than juicy details about your day and guys.” Polly’s finger waved up and down on the screen.

  “That’s the problem. My days don’t have anything juicy. My life is completely void of anything approaching interesting, and I didn’t even realize that until now.” Eda pushed the diary farther away on the couch as if it were solely responsible for her situation. “Up until now, I was content with my life. I thought it was good enough. I realize I’ve been fooling myself.”

  “You should get out more. Meet people.”

  “I hate going out by myself, and I have no one to go with.”

  “A co-worker?”

  “I’m a freelancer, remember? I don’t have any co-workers, and my customers live all over the world. I can get a virtual coffee with them, but that’s about it.”

  Polly’s eyebrows lifted, reaching the midpoint of her forehead. “No, no, no! I won’t have you say it’s not possible. When you lived here, you were the most popular girl in town. What happened to you?”

  The accusation made her cringe. “Nothing happened; it was easy in Springdale. Everybody knew me, and I knew them back. When I moved to New York, I realized I’m just another drop in a sea of people, one that has nothing to distinguish herself from all the others. I don’t know how to make new friends, and the people I met--” Eda bit her lip, refusing to share any of the difficulties she'd faced or to think of herself as a victim.

  She had to endure bravely through Polly’s rebuke, desperately waiting for the moment when her friend’s exhaustion would exceed her tendency to speak for hours on end.

  When the conversation ended, Eda opened the diary one more time, using the same fountain pen to finish the sentence.

  Today...is the day my life changes.

  Out of Place

  Eda soon remembered why she’d often chosen to spend her time in solitude.

  The TV dominating her bedroom summoned her to another evening of binge-watching one of her favorite shows while eating an obscene number of chips. She threw a pillow at the TV in response and proceeded with her plan to leave the house.

  No challenge was enough to prevent her from stepping outside of her comfort zone, certainly not the lack of suitable clothes to wear. She browsed her sizable wardrobe, putting her clothes aside, all guilty of being either too old and out of style or too small. After years of being called skinny or size-zero, the chips finally brought her to regular size. While she didn’t mind those few extra pounds, they limited her options. Without letting desperation exceed her determination, Eda kept searching until one particular item stopped her breath. The black dress, one thing suited for the occasion.

  Thirty minutes later, she was ready to face the challenge of keeping herself straight while walking on tragically high heels. The short distance to the bar seemed to elongate with every painful step. Eda wrapped the shawl tighter as a gust of wind blew her long, dark hair off her back. She should’ve gone for her usual ponytail, but this was a special occasion.

  Her heart rate increased from the moment the busy doors first entered her field of vision, her pace slowing to the point of being overrun by a turtle. The fact that she was aware of the absurdity of her reaction wasn’t enough to stop the sweat from exiting through every pore on her back.

  Eda took one more step, her feet shaking.

  “That’s it, girl! Let’s party!” a voice shouted appreciatively from behind.

  Instead of looking
back, Eda increased her pace and the effort to keep her balance, almost slamming her nose into the cold bar door in her haste. With a hand on the doorframe for stability, she scrutinized the area. Good. Nobody had witnessed her clumsiness. In fact, not a soul paid any attention to her.

  Four more steps. Three. Two. One. Eda fought the instinct to take her boots off and place them on the counter as soon as she sat. She shifted her gaze from one group of people to the next. They all had one thing in common; they all had friends.

  Eda circled back to the counter, the knife of solitude twisting in her heart. For years she’d convinced herself that she was fine all alone. Fine was not enough.

  A woman sat to her left, blowing her blonde bangs off. Eda smiled politely—an unreciprocated gesture. Letting her head down, she debated whether to force a conversation. Who knew? Maybe they would become close friends in a little while. Tung-tied, she swallowed dry, wishing the tall glass half-filled with what looked like beer were hers. Worse than being alone was being alone while surrounded by people.

  “Hey, gorgeous!”

  The man to her right had a deep voice and a breath that could inebriate a toddler. Convinced he was interested in her chair colleague, Eda wrapped the shawl around her neck, ready to leave.

  “Where you goin’, hun?”

  “Um...”

  There had to be words perfect for this situation, but Eda couldn’t find any. The man sized her up with shameless intensity, making her wish she wore her sweatpants and a matching t-shirt rather than the revealing dress.

  “Yes, I think I should maybe leave,” Eda finally said.

  “You don’t seem convinced.”

  Even lacking expertise in alcoholic drinks, Eda concluded whatever was in the man’s glass was the cheapest product in the bar. It reeked of pure alcohol.

  “Le me buy you a drink,” he added with a wink.

  “It’s not a good idea,” she said, tilting her head backward to meet his gaze when he stood.

  “Listen, lady. If someone offers you a drink in a bar, you smile politely and accept it.”

  “I don’t think this is a rule.”

  Eda glanced around, searching for a way out, but nobody seemed to notice her predicament. The bartender neared, stopping in front of her icy companion with a smile that would’ve made even Clooney proud. Eda couldn’t look away, a part of her hoping he’d glance at her at least once.

  “Barkeep! The lady needs a drink!” the annoying man shouted, tapping the bar chaotically with his fingers.

  The smile vanished for a moment as the bartender glanced at him then returned to charming the woman.

  “The service here is terrible.”

  “I’ll leave,” Eda said, forcing confidence.

  The man grabbed her arm and held it tightly.

  “You’re hurting me!” Her head jolted back when a new gust of alcohol came her way.

  “I just want you to stay for a drink.”

  “No!”

  “She said no. Leave,” a firm voice demanded from behind.

  Eda twisted to glimpse at the voice owner.

  “Unless you’re her husband, you can’t tell me what to do.”

  “Listen, jerk! Leave, or you’ll regret it.”

  Somehow this exchange felt had nothing to do with Eda. She searched for an escape route before someone threw punches, but the two men and the bolted chairs locked her in place. Her only option was to turn on the spot. Maybe push one of the men away? Punch him?

  The bartender saved her from seeing how that would’ve turned out, placing both his palms on the counter as he eyeballed the men. “Okay, both of you. You’re cut off for the night.”

  “What did I do?” the second man argued.

  “Really? You’re gonna play dumb with me?”

  The two men strolled away, with Eda’s eyes fixed on their backs.

  “How did you do that?” she asked. “Are you magic?”

  “I know them,” he answered, retaking his charming cloak. “They’ve been here all week trying to pick up chicks with their routine.”

  “Routine?”

  “Yes. One harasses a woman, and the other comes quickly to her rescue.”

  “That’s...pathetic and disturbing and...sad.”

  Now that the crisis was over, she needed to either leave or sit. The latter seemed safer for the moment.

  “You haven’t been in bars much, have you?”

  “Not recently,” Eda admitted.

  He leaned over the counter as if he was about to reveal the biggest secret ever. “Men will use all kinds of foolishness and trickery to get women in bed.”

  “Do you always come to the women’s rescue?”

  “If I did, I’d be out of a job.”

  “I bet you know all those tricks you were talking about,” Eda commented.

  “I do.”

  “Do you ever use them?”

  He laughed and pulled back. “I’m not going to answer that. What can I get you?”

  “Actually, I think I’d better leave. Coming here was a mistake.”

  “Don’t go. Let me get you a drink on the house for your troubles.”

  “That’s...nice...” she mouthed, wondering if he was trying to play one of the tricks he’d mentioned.

  “What do you want?”

  The question, though predictable, had no obvious answer. Something as fancy as the colorful glass in front of the woman next to her seemed appealing.

  “Tell you what,” he said in response to her hesitation. “I’ll get you something I think you’ll enjoy.”

  “Sounds good.” She held back a sigh of relief.

  “I’m Bud, by the way.”

  “Eda.”

  The number of people struggling for his attention increased.

  “I’ll be back in a flash, Eda. Don’t vanish.”

  “I won’t.”

  He disappeared, leaving a void filled by the random voices around her. Ever and again, one voice rose above all the others only to dissipate a few seconds later into the ether. The drink delayed. Bud tended to customer after customer, always with the same smile on his face, giving her time to think. Long ago, she’d decided thinking was rarely a good idea, yet she’d never been able to stop it. How could she prevent her thoughts from forming?

  Bud appeared with a glass filled with a green liquid and a tiny umbrella.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “I’ll tell you after you drink it,” Bud answered, winking mysteriously. “Excuse me a moment.”

  Eda barely had time to open her mouth before he disappeared again into the crowd. A timid sip was enough to flood her mouth with a mixture of alcohol and kiwi, cringing inside at the realization that this free drink was the only good thing she got out of the evening.

  After another sip for courage, Eda turned to the woman next to her and introduced herself. While her preferred subjects of conversation revolved around the latest science fiction movie she'd seen, Eda had to settle for small talk—the most boring kind. After discussing boutiques, mascara, and the New York public transportation system, Eda reached her limit.

  A tall man came to her rescue. “Ready dear?” he asked warmly.

  The woman jumped up, her eyes shining. “Yes.” Without even a glance, let alone a goodbye, she grabbed the man’s arm and moved away.

  “That could’ve gone better,” Eda mouthed.

  She turned on the chair, inspecting the bar for a new victim to approach, but the handful of people remaining told her how late she’d stayed.

  Bud neared one more time, supporting his elbows on the counter.

  “Still thinking it was a mistake to come?”

  “I kinda do,” Eda admitted. “This evening was about meeting someone but...” She stopped inspecting Bud’s raised eyebrow. “Oh, that’s not what I meant!”

  “What isn’t?”

  “I didn’t mean a guy. I’m not here to meet a guy.”

  “A woman, then?”

  Eda shook her h
ead, the slight movement blurring her view temporarily. “No... It doesn’t matter if they’re men or women or aliens. I just wanted to make some friends.”

  “You came here to make friends?”

  “Yes. Everybody here has some. Why can’t I?”

  Bud resumed his fatherly tone. “People don’t come to bars to make friends. They make friends elsewhere and come here together.”

  “You’re making this up!” Eda protested.

  “Are you new in town?”

  “I came here five years ago. Where do people meet people?”

  He scratched his beard for a few moments. “In places where they’re forced to stay together long enough to get over the fact that they hate each other—like their jobs.”

  “I’m a freelancer. I work from home.”

  “You still talk to people, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but they don’t live in New York.”

  “I’m beginning to understand why you’re lonely. What do you do as a freelancer?”

  “I’m a software developer.”

  “Any good?” he asked.

  “Very. What about other places? Like parks? People go to parks, don’t they?”

  “Yes. You should have a kid.”

  “A kid? Why?”

  “Because then you can take your kid to the park and talk with other parents about how hard it is to raise a kid.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly!” Eda protested. “A dog should work just as well.”

  “Or a dog. Easier to take care of.”

  Bud disappeared to chat to a group on their way out. She followed their interaction as if she were conducting a study while sipping from the straw.

  “How did you know I love kiwi?” she asked as soon as he returned.

  “It’s my job to know what customers like better than they do.”

  “This doesn't answer my question. I should go; I have a call tomorrow morning.” The pain caused by her uncomfortable boots returned with a vengeance. She found solace in the conviction that she’d soon throw those boots at the deep ends of her walk-in closet, never to see the light of day again. “Thanks for making me feel less lonely.”