Garage Sale Addict-Part 6

This morning, I’m sharing Part 6 of my story, “Garage Sale Addict”. If you’d like to catch up, here’s:
“Garage Sale Addict, Part 1“
“Garage Sale Addict, Part 2“
“Garage Sale Addict, Part 3“
“Garage Sale Addict-Part 4“
“Garage Sale Addict-Part 5“

And, here is my disclaimer one more time…

Disclaimer: I am nervous about sharing this. Instead of me being able to use words like “crap” or my made up favorites like “goody-ness”, what I’m about to share will be held to a higher standard. Because it’s part of my hidden soul-my personal writing projects. Who knows if this will ever go anywhere-but it’s fun to write and to dream. I’d love to hear what you have to say, or maybe I won’t.

****Part 6
Chapter Three

The espresso machine churned while Rosalyn stood to the side waiting for her chai tea. Bonnie already had her usual mocha and thumbed through a magazine, commandeering the last table in the coffee shop.

“Chai Tea for Rosalyn?” The barista slid the drink onto the counter towards Rosalyn and stared a little longer than normal. “Hey, didn’t you just have an amazing garage sale?”

“That might have been me,” Rosalyn smiled, happy to be remembered.

“I got two Chang belts there for $75,” the barista showed off one of the belts around her waist.

“That was definitely my sale then,” she said. “I’m going to have another one this Saturday. You should stop by again.”

“Will do,” the barista high-five’d the co-worker that had been listening in.

Rosalyn grabbed her tea and headed towards Bonnie-who was emphatically rolling her eyes.

“Seriously, Ros-another sale?  You barely made any money on the last one.” Her friend sighed and then took a sip of her mocha. “You made twelve dollars. Total.”

“That sale was depressing, I’ll admit. But, namely because I had nothing there to create excitement. I have a plan and that’s why I bought this.” She pulled a Taute belt out of her shopping bag.

Bonnie choked on her drink, coughing for a few seconds.

“How much was that?” Her friend slammed her cup down onto the table, coffee sloshing out of the side.

“Keep your voice down. I got a great deal on it.” She whispered, aware of the eavesdropping baristas.

“How much?” Bonnie craned her neck to get a look at the price tag.

“It doesn’t matter how much. When I advertise this is at my sale, the real shoppers will come. Once the shoppers are there, they’ll buy all my other stuff and that will be that.” Rosalyn shoved the belt back into her bag.

“Meaning, that will be your last sale, right?”

“Of course. I just want to get rid of the stuff I didn’t sell last time, that’s all. And if I need to entice the customers a little, then so be it.” Rosalyn took a drink.

“Do the math, Ros. What you paid for that belt will not be covered by the profits on your trinkets.” Bonnie shook her head.

“You underestimate my sales ability. And, there will be doughnuts paid for by me for my helpers. Please?” She smiled at her best friend.

“This sounds like a terrible plan, but because I’m your friend and you are clearly going through something…I’m in.” Bonnie patted her friend’s hand. “This is your last sale, right?”

“Yeah, sure. This is the last time.” Rosalyn nodded but looked away.

“As long as there are doughnuts, then we have a deal.”

***

Rosalyn’s cell phone rang just as she returned home. She fished her phone out of her purse and let a hurried ‘hello’ just before the call went to voicemail.

Silence.

“Hello? Who is this, please?” She sighed.

“Oh, I thought I would get your voice mail. I was expecting you to be out with Bonnie or something,” he said. “I mean it is a Friday night.” 

Rosalyn’s knees buckled underneath her, she grabbed the countertop in the kitchen for support.

Kyle.

“I just got home from spending time with her. How may I help you?” Rosalyn felt annoyed and her knuckles turned white as she gripped the counter.

“I stopped by earlier.”

Several seconds passed.

“What for?” Her voice cracked.

“There’s a lot of stuff that…” He heaved a sigh.

“…That you need to say to me?” Rosalyn could kick herself for finishing his sentence.

“No, there was a lot of stuff at my house that belonged to you. Gwennie asked me to get rid of it. I dropped it off while you were out.”

“Oh,” Rosalyn felt her jaw tighten. “She asked you ‘to get rid of it’, huh?”

“Look, I thought it best to leave it on the back porch when you weren’t there,” he said. “I drove by tonight and noticed your car was gone. We don’t need to make this a big deal.”

“Sure, we don’t need to make our seven year relationship that suddenly ended for absolutely no reason a big deal.” She felt pathetic.

“Good. Everything is on back porch.”

“Seriously? Fine, Kyle. Whatever.” She pushed the “end” button on her phone.

The phone rang again.

“What?” Rosalyn demanded.

“Rosalyn?” Bonnie sounded concern.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were Kyle.” Rosalyn wiped at her eyes.

“Why would I be Kyle? Did he call you?”

“He informed me that everything of mine was on the back porch. And that our relationship was ‘not a big deal’.” Tears trickled down her cheek.

“Oh, Ros. I’m so sorry.” Bonnie whispered.

“Really, it’s ok. And at least I have the garage sale to look forward to in the morning.”

“How about we watch some girl movies and eat ice cream until we’re sick instead of the sale?”

“I’ve already advertised the sale online. Don’t you realize how upset people will be if I cancel last minute? They’re depending on me.”

“No one will be upset if you cancel the sale. How about you sleep in on Saturday?”

“I’m doing the sale. If you don’t want to help out, I understand, but I have to do this.” Rosalyn squeezed her eyes shut.

“Ros, of course I’ll help you. But, will you promise me something?” Bonnie sighed.

“Sure.” She fished a tissue out of her purse and dabbed at her mascara.

“Promise me that this sale is the last one?”

“If this Saturday is just as bad as last weeks, then I won’t do another.” She was pleased with her ambiguous response.

“I guess that’s good enough. I’ll be there on Saturday and I’ll bring the doughnuts.” Her friend gave a quiet goodbye and hung up.

Rosalyn paced the kitchen floor, willing herself to go to the back porch. Finally, she made it to the back door and flung it open. Tissues in hand, Rosalyn sifted through the box. But instead of crying as she thought she might do, her mind became a calculator, tabulating all of the potential profits Kyle has just delivered her.

Rosalyn typed up descriptions for the new items and added to her listing two purses, a peacoat and several necklaces.

She climbed into bed much later than she had planned, exhausted. Her cell phone rang from across the room.

“Why didn’t I shut you off?” Rosalyn mumbled from her bed, frowning at the lit up phone lying on her dresser.

The caller gave up, the house becoming silent once again and soon, she fell asleep.

****

Rosalyn awoke on Saturday at 4:30 a.m. and immediately sprung into action. She decided to do the sale outside once again-even though it was raining.

She glanced at her cell phone, remembering the late night call, which read ‘One missed call from unknown number’. Rosalyn pressed the voice mail button, and heard clicking noises along with the sound of numbers being pressed. Weird, she thought. She hit the ‘delete’ button.

Rosalyn propped open the front door, bringing out boxes and placing them underneath the carport, away from the rain. She tried to ignore the cars idling on the street. The thermos drinkers were back. An old dodge truck signaled the others with two flashes of high beams. A brown Oldsmobile responded with the same.

She wished Bonnie would hurry. Rosalyn felt vulnerable with her front door open and her “products” unattended each time she headed back inside for more.

“Good morning,” said a voice from the street. She could hear the raindrops bouncing off the unidentified person’s parka.

“I don’t open until six,” she shouted through the rain.

“It looks to me like you could use a little help,” said the voice which sounded as if it were getting closer to her each second.

“Look, buddy. I know what scam you’re trying to pull offering to ‘help’ me. This isn’t my first sale,” she responded, backing up towards her house, reaching into her pocket.

“No, it most certainly isn’t,” Micah said, stepping underneath the carport and into the yellow beam cast from the porch light.

“Micah! You scared me half to death,” she smiled. “I was reaching for my pepper spray.”

“You have pepper spray? Good to know,” he said, holding his palms up. “I come in peace. Now, point me in the direction of the coffee, first and what you need brought out, second.”

She loved that he loved coffee. And that he was at her house at 4:45 a.m., in the rain, in a great mood and offering to help.

“Follow me. The coffee is hot and Bonnie will bring us doughnuts later.” Rosalyn curtsied dramatically, waving him towards the door.

After a quick cup of coffee, the pair got to work dragging out tables. Her “products” were more crammed than she would like underneath the carport, but she felt it would still present well. Micah lifted the hood on his parka and headed out with the garage sale signs-protecting them with clear trash bags.

“I’m a little bummed that the balloons I got last night won’t be put to good use,” Rosalyn said to Micah when he returned. “But, at least the rain is keeping the early shoppers in their cars and not on my lawn.”

He laughed and ran his fingers through his slightly damp hair. After removing his parka and shaking it out, he sat down next to her and patted her knee.

“Don’t you worry about customers. I saw the entire street lined with cars all the way down to the corner,” he accepted the coffee mug she gave to him and sipped from the top.

Rosalyn watched his lips as they touched the cup, drawing the hot beverage into his mouth. He looked at her from the corner of his eyes and she felt her skin turn hot. Micah smirked and took another drink from the cup. She searched her blank mind for something to say.

“So, where’s Spartan?”

Micah began to answer her, but was interrupted by their first customer. A man in a  drenched trench coat barely looked around before approaching Rosalyn.

“I drove two hours to get here. I have to know, where do you buy the things you’re selling?” He removed and then wiped the rain from his glasses, leaving behind a marked indention on his giant nose.

“Well, I am flattered that you have come all this way, for my sale. But I can’t reveal my secrets.” Rosalyn said.

“It isn’t illegal is it?” He whispered, leaning in while adjusting his tie.

“Do I look like the type to commit a crime?” She laughed and looked at Micah.

“Anyone can commit a crime,” the guy with the glasses said. He held up the two purses Kyle had left the night before. “I’ll take these.”

“Your wife will be happy,” Rosalyn said, giving the man his change.

“I’m not married,” he said and huffed off.

“Okay, that was weird.” Micah said quietly as another customer approached, ready to make their purchase.

Rosalyn hardly stopped when Bonnie arrived with the doughnuts. She continued making sale after sale. Bonnie threw in Rosalyn’s trinkets from time to time to ‘sweeten the deal’ if someone was hedging on the final price, knowing if there was anything left over, Rosalyn might be tempted to do another sale.

“Thanks for the doughnuts, Bonnie.” Rosalyn took a quick bite before allowing someone to talk her down on the price of one of the Chang belts.

“My pleasure. I can’t believe how much you’ve already sold.” Bonnie said, looking inside the coffee can Micah held onto.

“It’s been a great morning so far. Hey-have you noticed if the news crew is back? Seven new ‘Mutt Shot’ clients called after seeing me on the news the last time.” Rosalyn beamed.

“That’s great, Ros.” Bonnie grinned. “I’m glad having these sales are actually bringing in some real business for you.”

“What do you mean ‘real business’. Isn’t this ‘real’?” Rosalyn gestured to the five different people currently shopping.

Bonnie and Micah snickered.

“Hey lady,” said a man that hadn’t bothered with an umbrella and was dripping on her table. “Where do you find all this stuff? Are these knock-off’s?”

“These are 100% the real thing,” Rosalyn answered, trying not to sound annoyed.

“It just seems too good to be true. These aren’t stolen or something?” The man continued dripping.

“Are you kidding me?”

“I just had to ask,” said the man, handing her two twenty dollar bills for one of the belts.

“These sales sure bring out the strangest of society,” said Bonnie as she polished off her bear claw.

“You think this is strange,” said Rosalyn as she bagged up a customer’s purchase. “You should see some of the emails I’ve received. Look at my phone and read the last two.”

Micah and Bonnie hovered over her phone.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” said Micah after reading the emails.

“There are some bizarre people out there,” Bonnie shook her head.

“And those were two of the nicer ones.” Rosalyn rearranged an empty space on the table as the rain began to let up. She checked her watch-10:15. “Time sure flies when you’re making money. How much have we made so far?”

Micah carefully pulled the money from the can and counted it, hiding himself behind a designer picnic basket, complete with crystal wine goblets. He whispered the amount to Bonnie-her eyes growing wide. Rosalyn watched from the other side of the carport.

“C’mon. I’m dying over here,” she said.

Bonnie tried signing to her friend the amount using her fingers. Rosalyn abandoned the table she was arranging, sure she misunderstood.

“What I just saw you sign to me was $1,272,” Rosalyn whispered.

“That is correct, dear,” Bonnie smiled at her friend. “Now, how much did you spend to make this happen?”

“Spend? What do you mean?,” asked Micah.

“I just bought a few things to prime the pump,” said Rosalyn. “I spent a couple hundred, I think.”
“You know exactly how much you spent, Ros.” Bonnie grabbed at her friend’s arm before she could pull away.

“I need to get back to rearranging the products,” she said and then gestured to Micah who was heavily involved with his second doughnut. “Can we talk about this later, please?”

“Sure,” sighed Bonnie.

Rosalyn pulled away from Bonnie, but was immediately stopped by a man dressed in a cheap suit.

“Good morning, Ma’am,” he said, pulling a business card from his inside pocket. “I need you to call me later this afternoon. I have a few questions for you.”

“And you are?,” Rosalyn said, accepting the card without looking at it.

“Let’s just say I’m someone that always gets the answers to his questions,” he said and walked away.

She watched him get into a black sedan and speed off. Rosalyn finally looked down at the business card. It read, Robert Stope, Federal Investigator, along with an 800 number.

“Who was that?,” Bonnie said, joining Rosalyn in the middle of the driveway.

Bonnie took the business card that Rosalyn offered her to look over.

“What in the world?,” Bonnie whispered. “What does a Federal Investigator want with you?”

“I have no idea,” she slowly answered her friend. “But, I’m not going to call him to find out either.”

*****

Featured Picture Source

Garage Sale Addict-Part 5

Dear Readers:

*The above picture has nothing to do with this post. I just like the blue little stars.*

This morning, I’m sharing Part 5 of my story, “Garage Sale Addict”. If you’d like to catch up, here’s:
“Garage Sale Addict, Part 1”
“Garage Sale Addict, Part 2”
“Garage Sale Addict, Part 3”
“Garage Sale Addict-Part 4”
And, here is my disclaimer one more time-because I’m insecure about my skillz as a writer. I mean, does a real writer use “z’s” at the end of her words?

Disclaimer: I am nervous about sharing this. Instead of me being able to use words like “crap” or my made up favorites like “goody-ness”, what I’m about to share will be held to a higher standard. Because it’s part of my hidden soul-my personal writing projects.
Who knows if this will ever go anywhere-but it’s fun to write and to dream. I’d love to hear what you have to say, or maybe I won’t.

*****

Garage Sale Addict (Young Adults)

“Bonnie, guess what I just found for 75% off!,” Rosalyn whispered excitedly into her phone. She tucked the Van der Hoessen handbag into the bottom of her shopping cart and pushed her way down the aisle.

“What?”

“This season’s Van der Hoessen touring bag for only $355,” she said.

“Wow. What a deal,” Bonnie replied dryly. “And, since when do you care about name brands?”

“It’s not for me. I’m going to use it to lure back my customers for the next garage sale,” responded Rosalyn. “Oops, I’m to the front of the line. Gotta go.”

“This isn’t over,” said Bonnie. “We need to talk a little more about your strategy.”

Rosalyn made it home with the Van der Hoessen bag, a few Chang belts and the largest grand total she’d ever witnessed on one receipt. Guilt nagged at her as she looked at the total once again. Even with the 75% off and a coupon, she still spent more than she had made in the last two weeks.

“It’s my money and I can spend it however I want to,” she said aloud to no one. After photographing the items, Rosalyn posted them online with the headline, “Name Brand Garage Sale this Saturday only!”.  She added descriptions to the items, directions to her house and her email address.

Looking at her watch, Rosalyn remembered she had a 4 ‘o clock appointment with an irish setter. She grabbed her camera bag, her keys and was back out the door. Her phone chimed as she backed out of the driveway, notifying her of a new email. Rosalyn decided to look at it later, turned on the radio and began humming along. The radio and her phone were soon having a battle of who could be the noisiest as one email after another made its way to her phone, dinging relentlessly at her. She clicked the radio off and drove the rest of the way-a cacophony of sounds coming from her phone.

“I’m leaving you in the car, since you can’t behave,” Rosalyn pointed at her phone and hopped out. The dog and its master were already in the pre-discussed location in the park, right next to the big elm Rosalyn used to climb as a kid. A middle-aged man, dressed in a sweater-vest, tie and khaki pants held a leash that attached to a gorgeous red irish setter.

“Good afternoon, Mable,” she said to the dog, petting its thick coat. “And good afternoon to you, Mr. Ranford.”

“Please, call me Hal.”

“Alright, Hal and Mable-are you two ready for your session?,” Rosalyn smiled at the pair and Mable responded with a wagging tail. Hal bobbed his head and straightened his tie.

“I’m a little nervous. I never know what to do with my hands,”  he lifted them up, fingers together.

“Well, for starters, let’s not have ‘paddle hands’-just relax,” she brought his hands down to his side. “I’ll show you what to do. We’ll be done in no time.”

Rosalyn guided them to the best lighting next to the small pond at the edge of the park.

“My wife wanted this picture for her desk-she said it would be the best photograph ever of her two favorite people,” Hal said as they walked.

“Two favorite people?” Rosalyn smiled and moved Hal into position next to the dog with the forest in the background.

“I know, I know. Since our son moved away she’s really taken a shining to Mable.” He patted the dog’s head, looking more comfortable than his previous ‘paddle hand’ scenario.

“That’s perfect, Hal.” she said. “Just stay right there-that looks natural.”

After a few close-up shots, Rosalyn moved further away to get a few full-lengths but was battling a setting sun.

“We’re loosing sunlight, let’s move over to the other side of the pond.”

“You’re in charge,” Hal said.

“Hey-I’m having a garage sale this Saturday and have a bunch of name brand items your wife might be interested in,” Roslayn led them to a bench and had Hal sit down. Mable instinctively jumped onto the bench and laid her head on Hal’s knee.

“My wife loves garage sales. I’ll let her know.” Hal smiled as Rosalyn clicked off several more shots.

“Also, I’m putting together a dog calendar featuring some of my favorite dog clients. Would you mind if I shot a few singles of just Mable?”

“Not at all. She’s much more photogenic than I am,” he said and straightened his tie again.

“Nonsense, you’re doing great.” Rosalyn grabbed the leash, leading Mable to a section of the pond filled with cattails. She took several of Mable ‘pointing’ and then a few more of her sitting. The dog’s red fur gleamed in the sunlight.

“She really is a gorgeous dog,” Rosalyn said to Hal over her shoulder.

“Thanks! How much are your calendars going to be? I bet my wife would love one.”

“If you have a dog in the calendar, you get one for free,” she said. “They’ll be done in a few months-I just need one more dog for the month of May. Mable will probably be my June dog.”

They finished the session and walked back to the parking lot. Hal and Mable loaded into his SUV and Rosalyn waved goodbye to Hal and Mable as they drove off. She jumped in her own car and picked up her phone to see the damage. 14 emails, 5 missed phone calls and 2 messages were displayed.

She opened her first email and read the opening line.

“This sale hopefully will be better than your last one. If not, I’m never coming back. Signed-Disappointed.”

“Geesh,” Rosalyn said and hit the delete button. The next one wasn’t any kinder.

“I came last week and all you had was a bunch of junk. Are you telling us the truth or is this some sort of scam because you just want people to come visit you? Please respond or I may not show up. Signed-Don’t waste my time.”

“Holy cow.” Rosalyn deleted that email and went through the rest. Only one was from someone with a legitimate question about the size of her belt. “This ought to be interesting.”

She pressed the voicemail button and listened to two messages back to back from Bonnie. The first just asked her to call back. She listened to the second message from her friend.

“Look, Ros. I know you really enjoyed that first sale. It was fun to get rid of all that stuff from you-know-who. But, I don’t think it’s a good idea to spend that kind of money just to get people to come back. I don’t want to mother you-I’m just concerned. Call me back and let’s grab coffee tonight.”

Rosalyn hit the “call back” button and started to pull out of the parking lot.  Bonnie picked up on the first ring.

“I was starting to get worried about you,” her friend said.

“Sorry. I had a photo shoot and left my phone in the car,” Rosalyn didn’t offer the “why” behind leaving the phone in the car. “How does 7 sound for coffee tonight? I need to run home and freshen up.”

“Sounds good. Same place?”

“Same place.” Rosalyn hung up and pulled out onto the street.

Rosalyn washed her face and added some makeup. After pulling on a pair of jeans and her “going out” heels, she once again glanced at the receipt from the day’s earlier purchases. She sighed, but reassured herself that she would make the money back from that weekend’s garage sale. As she locked the front door behind her, she heard her name being called from the street.

“Hey, Rosalyn.” Micah waved from the street, Spartan at his side.

Her stomach did flip-flops. She loved the way her name sounded coming from his mouth.

“Hey, Micah. Hey, Spartan.” She patted the dog’s head and knelt down to be eye level with the pooch. “You know, I still need to photograph you. I have one month left to complete my calendar and you are just the dog for the job.”

“Anytime, Ros. Just let me know what day and I’ll make sure this stinky guy has had a bath.”

Ros. He called her Ros. 

She liked that.

“How about tomorrow after the garage sale?” Rosalyn stood up, but hadn’t realized how close she had gotten to Micah while petting the dog. She was eye-to-eye with him and a mere 6 inches from his nose. She stepped back suddenly, loosing her balance on the curb.

“Dang heels,” she said, embarrassed as she caught herself on his outstretched arm. “I don’t know why I ever wear these things. I’m always tripping and making a fool of myself.”

“I don’t know,” he said and helped her stay upright. “They look pretty good on you. And they offer a great excuse for a man to be chivalrous if you do happen to trip.”

He smiled, but didn’t let go of her arm. Rosalyn loved that he used the word ‘chivalrous’ in every day conversation and smiled back at him.

“Where you headed?” He finally released his grip on her.

No-come back, Mr. Arm!

“Just off to have coffee with my friend Bonnie. She’s concerned I’m having too many garage sales.” She tried to maintain a steady voice, but knew her nerves were causing fluctuations from high to low and back to high again.

“Are you getting a cold?” Micah pressed his hand to her head.

Ah. There it is, he’s touching me again.

She leaned her head into the palm of his hand, praying it wasn’t greasy or clammy or both.

“I don’t think so.” She said, proud of herself for finally flirting with him.

Her victory was short-lived. As she said the word ‘so’, a bit of spit flew from her lips and onto his face. He dropped his hand instantly, wiping at his cheek, laughing.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she whirled around, nearly tripping on the curb again. “I’m late. I’d better go.”

Rosalyn raced up the driveway towards her car.

“Bye, Ros. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

“Ok. Yeah-whatever,” she didn’t look back, unlocked her car and threw her purse on the passenger’s seat.

Garage Sale Addict-Part 4

Dear Readers:

This morning, I’m sharing Part 4 of my story, “Garage Sale Addict”. If you haven’t read “Garage Sale Addict, Part 1” or “Garage Sale Addict, Part 2“, “Garage Sale Addict, Part 3” you may want to start there. Otherwise, this may not make sense.

And, here is my disclaimer one more time-because I’m insecure about my skillz as a writer. I mean, does a real writer use “z’s” at the end of her words?

Disclaimer: I am nervous about sharing this. Instead of me being able to use words like “crap” or my made up favorites like “goody-ness”, what I’m about to share will be held to a higher standard. Because it’s part of my hidden soul-my personal writing projects.
Who knows if this will ever go anywhere-but it’s fun to write and to dream. I’d love to hear what you have to say, or maybe I won’t.

*****

Garage Sale Addict (Young Adults)

“Bonnie, I think I want to do another sale.” Rosalyn clicked on the windshield wipers and put Bonnie on speakerphone.

“It’s Thursday, you realize that, right?” Bonnie, still at work, whispered back to her friend.

“I need something to get my mind off of Kyle. I’ve been a wreck all day. Every restaurant, every song, every couple I see holding hands reminds me of him.” Rosalyn took a quick right into a neighborhood and fumbled in her glove box for a tissue. A horn sounded behind her for several seconds.

“What are you doing?”

“Just driving around, trying to find something to do. I had two cancellations today because of the rain.” Rosalyn heard another line ringing in Bonnie’s office. “I’ll let you go, but are you in?”

“Sure. Six a.m. again?” Her friend whimpered.

“Let’s make it seven. And I’ll advertise it online, too.” Rosalyn pulled over to jot down a reminder. Another horn blared as the car whipped past her.

“You are terrorizing our entire town.” Her friend quietly laughed.

“They need to learn some patience.” Rosalyn pulled back into the street, glancing behind her before making her move.

“I think you need to learn how to use a signal.”
“Details, details. Thanks for being a good friend, Bonnie. I need something to distract my mind.” Rosalyn hung up after promising to provide doughnuts for her friend.

She turned the car around and headed for home; ready to sell anything she didn’t absolutely need.

“You’re selling a jar of pickles?” Her friend managed between her fits of laughter on the morning of the sale.

“I don’t need them. I don’t like pickles.” Rosalyn grabbed the jar and moved it away from Bonnie.

“Well, this definitely isn’t as spectacular as the last one. But, I’m sure we’ll sell most of this stuff the way you’ve priced things.” Bonnie sunk her teeth into a chocolate doughnut.

“Even if I don’t, it gave me something to do.” Rosalyn put a price tag on a vase filled to the brim with an old matchbook collection.

“A box of toothpicks, a meat grinder and a set of floral sheets next to an old hamster cage. Strange assortment, Ros.”

“Call it what you will. I call it therapy. Should we open? It’s 7 on the nose.”

“I’m surprised we don’t have anyone banging down the door like last time.” Bonnie wiped her fingers clean with a napkin.

“I know, it’s a bit of a let down, isn’t it?” Rosalyn opened her front door to reveal an empty lawn and an even emptier street.

“Maybe we should add a balloon to the sign?” Bonnie opened the junk drawer to fish out a pink ‘Burger Palace’ balloon.

“You do that and I’ll go check to make sure my ad is still up.” Rosalyn went after her laptop in the living room.

Once Bonnie came back inside, she joined Rosalyn on the couch.

“So, is the ad still up?”

Rosalyn nodded, frowning.

“Maybe we should we take the tables outside this time?”

“Good idea-more exposure.” Rosalyn jumped off the couch.

After propping open the front door, the two carried out the card table Rosalyn had borrowed from her neighbor the night before.

“This looks level, don’t you think?” Bonnie set the table down underneath the shade of the carport.

“You two need some help?” A man called from the street, a dog at his side.

“No, we’re fine. Thank you.” Rosalyn waved him off, glancing at the stranger.

“I just moved in down the street. My name’s Micah.” He called to them, staying at the edge of the driveway.

“Good to meet you, Micah. And it would be wonderful to have your help.” Bonnie called back, ignoring her friend.

“Do you mind if I tie up Spartan while I help you?” Micah walked the length of the driveway. He wore a ‘Border Collie’s Best Friend’ hat.

“What a beautiful face. I should photograph you.” Rosalyn had turned around, eyeing the dog.

“Um, thank you.” Micah’s face turned tomato red.

“Oh, no. I meant your dog.” Rosalyn spit out her explanation, her face turning a similar color.

“And not me?” He smiled. Her mouth went dry.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to help?” Her hands felt moist and she wiped them against her jeans.

“That’s Rosalyn, the weirdo and I’m Bonnie, the normal, by the way. Follow me, Micah. I’ll show you what we need to do.” Bonnie stepped between the two and grabbed his elbow, pushing him ahead of her.

Rosalyn whipped around; fervently rearranging items on the table until her friend and Micah reappeared, carrying another rickety card table.

“Is this good product placement?” Micah lined the table up next to the first, stepped back, and eyed it from several directions.

“That looks good. Thank you.” Rosalyn smiled shyly.

“Wait a second. Are these pickles for sale?” Micah chuckled, holding the jar up.

“They’re brand new and I don’t like pickles.” Her face reverted back to red.

“She’s been through a lot lately, and I support her decision to sell everything. Even her pickles.” Her friend pretended to whisper to Micah, but her voice was still loud enough for Rosalyn to hear.

“Fair enough. Then I won’t ask about anything else on this table. Like for example, the box of q-tips…” He winked at her.

“Unopened.” Rosalyn sighed.

“She’s gone a little whacko, if you ask me.” Bonnie elbowed Rosalyn in the ribs.

“I have not. I don’t need this stuff anymore.” She took a step back from Bonnie, avoiding another elbow jab.

“Like you didn’t need your camera anymore. Do I need to bring that up?”

“Ok, I’ll admit that I got a little crazy this morning.” Rosalyn folded her arms.

“A little? I had to practically arm wrestle you to stop you from selling your camera-and you’re a photographer.” Bonnie muttered.

The two women silently looked at each other, Rosalyn giving her friend ‘the look’. Micah coughed and adjusted his hat.

“I noticed there was one more table left inside. I think I can get it out here by myself.” He scooted back inside the house.

Rosalyn unfolded her arms and watched Micah until he disappeared inside.

“I didn’t mean to pick on you. You’ve got me a little worried, Ros.”

“Worried about what? I’m fine.”

“Ros, you’ve sold almost everything you own. And now the pickles and q-tips?”

“I brought out some things to make it look like there was more for sale. I didn’t want to disappoint people.” Rosalyn coiled a strand of Christmas lights, placing them next to a family of snowmen.

“Nobody expects your garage sale to be like it was last week.” Her friend plopped down in a folding chair.

“I think I’ll do something to make the next one better.” Rosalyn sat down next to her friend.

“The next one? Ros, you haven’t sold a thing this morning.”

“We haven’t been open that long.”

“True. But, still.” Bonnie didn’t finish.

“I need something to get people here. Something to get them excited about my sale again.”

“Ros…” Bonnie’s voice trailed off.

Rosalyn watched Micah as he passed by the window inside of her house.

“He sure is nice to help out, isn’t he?” Her friend smiled.

“I suppose it’s good to get to know your neighbors.” She shrugged.

“It’s even better to have a good-looking neighbor, isn’t it?”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Rosalyn stood up quickly, bumping the table with her backside and knocking over a vase. It shattered as soon as it hit the pavement.

“I’ll go get a broom.” Bonnie smirked, passing Micah on his way out.

“Everything ok?” Micah sat down the table he had been carrying, walking towards Rosalyn.

“I just accidentally knocked something over.” She bent down to pick up several large chunks of glass.
“What was it? Anything important?” He kneeled down next to her to help.

“No, just a vase my Grandma gave me for Valentine’s Day one year. She filled it with lemonheads.”

“Is that your favorite candy?” Micah moved closer to her, retrieving a shard of glass right next to her hand.

“No. She called my boyfriend ‘Lemonhead’ after he had forgotten it was Valentine’s Day.” Rosalyn smiled.

“Your boyfriend?” He frowned.

“My boyfriend at the time; as in ‘no longer’.” Rosalyn’s stomach somersaulted when she looked up at him.

The screen door slammed. Bonnie held up the broom in one hand and a thermos in the other.

“Here we go. Shoo, you two. I’ll get this. I brought out a thermos of coffee for you to share. Drink up.” Bonnie budged in between them, forcing them to comply.

A car door slammed, and a small woman dressed in a pink yoga outfit hopped out.

“Is this the same place you had all that great stuff last week?” The woman yelled from the curb.

“Yes, ma’am.” Rosalyn smiled and waved.

The woman walked up the driveway with a black poodle cradled in her arms. The dog desperately tried to free himself while barking at Spartan.

Spartan lifted an eyebrow and fell back asleep.

“Welcome back.” Rosalyn poured a cup of coffee for Micah.

“Well, where is everything?” The poodle owner scanned the tables, one hand on her hip, the other smashing the dog into her chest.

“This is everything.” Rosalyn removed the price tag from Micah’s mug and handed it to him.

“Well, this is a major disappointment. I drove all the way across town for this?” The woman shook her head.

“Sorry.” Rosalyn shrugged.

“Will you have better stuff next week? Shoosh, Pookie.” The dog didn’t obey, even when the woman clamped its mouth shut with her hand.

“I should…” Rosalyn heard Bonnie harrumph.

“My manicurist told me she bought an original Lucca bag here for $35. She said that you had Marc Tiere vases and Chang belts. But, she must have been mistaken. All you have now is peasant stuff.”

“I promise, it’ll be better next week. I hope you and your friends come back.”

“We’ll see.” The woman snorted, raised her nose in the air and power-walked down the driveway.

“Wow. What kind of a garage sale did you have last week? Seems I missed out.” Micah chuckled.

“Sort of a spring cleaning kind of sale.” Rosalyn looked away.

A silver minivan squealed to a stop at the end of her driveway. Three women piled out from it, each wearing nametags pinned to the left sides of their matching vests.

“We just heard in our crocheting club that you were having another sale. Point us in the direction of Van der Hoessen’s please.” Bev, according to the nametag, spoke first.

“I’m sorry ladies, I sold all of that kind of stuff last week. But I will have a better shipment for next week.” Rosalyn smiled.

“Shipment?” Bonnie whispered to her friend.

“We just left a lecture on how to crochet mittens for this? You have got to be kidding me. What a waste of time.” ‘Eleanor’ threw her hands up in the air.

“Come on, ladies, let’s go. But we’ll be back next week. You’d better deliver the goods.” ‘Bev’ glared at Rosalyn and then Bonnie before huffing back to her minivan.

“Shipment, Ros?” Her friend eyed her.

“I have a plan.” Rosalyn stuck her chin out.

“I can’t wait to see what that is.” Bonnie rolled her eyes.

“Me neither. I’ll be back to help next week if that’s ok.” Micah untied Spartan. The dog jumped to attention from what had been a dead sleep, its tail wagging.

“You are welcome at my house anytime.” She smiled, feeling silly.

“It was nice meeting both of you. And you are welcome at my house, anytime.” He looked straight at Rosalyn.

Micah walked backwards down the driveway, Spartan in tow, waving goodbye.

When he finally made it out of sight, she breathed.

Garage Sale Addict-Part 3

Featured Image Source
Dear Readers:

Here is installment numero tres of my story, “Garage Sale Addict”. If you haven’t read “Garage Sale Addict, Part 1” or “Garage Sale Addict, Part 2“, you may want to start there. Otherwise, this may not make sense.

And, here is my disclaimer one more time-because I’m insecure about my skillz as a writer. I mean, does a real writer use “z’s” at the end of her words?

Disclaimer: I am nervous about sharing this. Instead of me being able to use words like “crap” or my made up favorites like “goody-ness”, what I’m about to share will be held to a higher standard. Because it’s part of my hidden soul-my personal writing projects.
Who knows if this will ever go anywhere-but it’s fun to write and to dream. I’d love to hear what you have to say, or maybe I won’t.

*****

Garage Sale Addict (Young Adults)

Story Premise: Recently dumped pet photographer, Rosayln Jones, hosts a garage sale to purge her life from the memory of her extremely wealthy ex-boyfriend. News travels fast in a small town and the mayhem of the day proves to be a temporary distraction from her pain.

Rosalyn hopes to regain the excitement and holds another sale the following week. Selling off her own personal items, she is soon disappointed in the lackluster response.

Rosalyn becomes increasingly addicted to the garage sale “high” and convinces herself to purchase designer items to sell at a loss in hopes of creating new excitement for herself and her customers. However, she soon is under investigation for what the Department of Homeland Security is convinced is some sort of smuggling or counterfeiting ring.

******

Chapter Two-Part 3

The alarm sounded all too soon, scaring her awake. Throwing on a pair of jogging pants and a hoodie, Rosalyn started the coffee pot and stepped outside into the dark morning air. In a stupor, she fumbled to unlock the car door. A frail voice called to her from underneath the carport.

“Excuse me, Miss. But will you be opening anytime soon?”

Rosalyn whirled around to see a tiny grandma of a woman with an armful of paper bags.

“The sale starts at six. I will open at six. Not earlier. Not later.” She slid inside the safety of her car, while the old woman frowned back at her with folded her arms. Rosalyn glanced at her watch-5:15.

Seriously. Crazy. people.

Backing out of the driveway, Rosalyn noticed a peculiar amount of parked cars-with engines running-lining her street. Each vehicle’s inhabitant drank out of some sort of thermos or travel mug, and stared at her as she drove off.

She said a quick prayer that her house would still be in one piece when she returned.

Rosalyn made it home in ten minutes with three long johns for Bonnie and a sprinkle cake doughnut for herself. The line of cars on her street had grown, housing more thermos drinkers. A group of ladies had camped out on her lawn, chatting and laughing. She turned into the driveway, threw ‘Molly’ into park and opened the car door.

Someone on the lawn yelled, “There she is!” and rushed towards her, with the group trailing closely behind. Car doors flung open and the thermos drinkers jumped out.

She placed a car key between her fingers as she had been taught to do in self-defense class. Bonnie pulled into the driveway seconds later, jumped out, and ran to her friend’s side.

“Listen up, people. The sale starts at six am, and if you don’t like it, you can leave.” Bonnie shouted.

A massive groan rose up from the crowd.

“Come on, what’s thirty minutes?” A man wearing a fisherman’s cap yelled from the doorway of his car. Several others emphatically agreed.

“Six o’clock, people. No sooner.” Bonnie yelled, then turned to Rosalyn and mouthed the word ‘Go’.

The two bolted for the front door, Rosalyn unlocked it while Bonnie held the box of doughnuts.

“I thought we might be stoned for a minute there.” Bonnie laughed, sliding down next to Rosalyn, their backs against the door.

The knocker on the door pounded against the wood.

“Go away!” Bonnie screamed.

“Can you believe this? I had some couple knocking on my door at four this morning.” Rosalyn stood up and poured them both a cup of coffee. She grabbed a couple of napkins for their doughnuts and they tiptoed into the living room. The two women stepped over mounds of purses, golf clubs, books and DVD’s to find a suitable place to sit and enjoy their breakfast.

“Maybe I should just give it all back to Kyle and call off the sale.” Rosalyn drew in a sip of coffee, throwing a satin pillow on the floor and sitting down.

“No way. He gave you this stuff. He wouldn’t want any of it back; in fact he brought you back the few items of yours he did have. And Ros, do I need to remind you that he dumped you?” Bonnie took a huge bite from her doughnut, perching herself on a giant brass elephant.

“You’re right. I guess it doesn’t hurt to make a few bucks off a broken heart, does it? I’ll see this as a return on my failed seven year investment.”

A rumbling could be heard outside. Bonnie leaned over, pulling down one of the slats in the mini-blind with a clean finger.

“Ros, come here.” She whispered, taking another bite.

Rosalyn peeked through the window alongside her friend.

A group outside had set up folding chairs, spreading out across the lawn and into the driveway. A local news van had parked behind Bonnie’s car; half in the driveway, half in the street. A reporter bustled through the crowd with a cameraman following him.

“Why is the news here? This is a garage sale.” Rosalyn stepped back from the window.

“If you advertise it, they will come.” Her best friend whispered dramatically.

“What time is it?” Rosalyn scanned the chaos surrounding her inside of the house.

“Ten till six.”

“Help me organize this stuff better. In case that reporter comes in here, I don’t want my house looking like this on television.” Rosalyn slurped down her coffee.

The two sprang into action, grouping shoes together on the bookshelves, separating the clothes by seasons, stacking all the purses on the dining room table and pulling in a card table for the candlesticks and other knick-knacks. Standing up the three sets of golf clubs, Bonnie announced the time had come.

“Do you hear that?” Bonnie whispered.

“What on earth?” Rosalyn mumbled, listening.

“It’s six a.m., let us in! It’s six a.m., let us in!,” The crowd chanted on the lawn.

Rosalyn breathed in deeply and unlocked the front door. The crowd cheered, abandoning their lawn chairs and fighting their way to the front of the line.

“The door has opened and I am getting the first glimpse of the ‘Garage Sale Lady’ just behind that screen door.” The news reporter announced into the camera from the middle of the lawn. Rosalyn smiled and waved to the reporter.

“I should have put on some mascara.” Rosalyn whispered to her friend.

“I should have worn something better than black sweatpants with a navy hoodie.”

“Well, too late now. Should we let them in?” Rosalyn stood up straight, surveying the crowd.

“We should have done this outside. You know that feeling at the top of a roller coaster, right before it plunges a hundred feet down scaring the living daylights out of you?” Her friend furrowed her brow.

“It won’t be that bad. We’ll manage.” She winked at Bonnie, excitement coursing through her body. Rosalyn opened the screen door and held her hands high in the air. The crowd calmed themselves, waiting for her to speak.

“The garage sale is open for business!” Rosalyn yelled heavenward, inspiring another cheer.

The reporter jumped ahead of the line, pushing the microphone under her mouth. “What is it that you do, Miss…?”

“Miss Rosalyn Jones. I’m a pet photographer. My business is called ‘Mutt Shots’.” She smiled into the camera, grateful for the free press.

“And this is your house, correct?” The reporter’s hair reminded her of cotton candy; only brown instead of pink.

“Well, my grandmother gave it to me.” She shooed the reporter off to the side, allowing the anxious customers to file past them.

“How can you, a simple pet photographer, living in such a moderate house, have so many expensive items? The people want to know.” He leaned in, smelling like Old Spice.

“They were gifts.” Rosalyn didn’t feel like telling ‘the people’ about being dumped.

“Gifts from whom?” The camera seemed closer than before.

“From a friend. That’s all I’m going to say.” Rosalyn spun around, looking for Bonnie. Her friend hopelessly tried to mediate a fight between three women over the same purple Lucca bag.

“Ladies, I have more here.” Rosalyn called out, pointing to a pile that had been neglected on the dining room table. All three women shrieked, deserting the purple bag, claiming their new finds.

“Are these really the prices?” A woman covered in leopard print raised her sunglasses for the first time.

“Yes. Everything must go.” Rosalyn left the pack of women, searching the room for Bonnie.

Her friend stood between two men politely discussing who would benefit more from the golf clubs.

“This is mayhem.” Bonnie stepped towards Rosalyn and opened the lid of a coffee can she had been using as a cash box. A stack of money filled it almost to the brim. “You’re going to be left with nothing but money.”

“That’s the best way to start over.” Rosalyn grinned.

A white haired man held up the crystal porcupine from the other side of the room.

“How much is this?” He yelled over the pack of women still fighting it out at the table.

“Ten dollars.” Rosalyn called back to him, picking her way through the buyers.

He met her half way, slapped a ten-dollar bill in her hand, and dialed a number on his cell phone.

“I got it, hon. It’s an original, just like you said.” He tucked his new possession in his coat pocket and hurried out of the house.

A steady stream of people came and went for the next couple of hours, each demanding attention and rejoicing in their purchases. Rosalyn sold three television sets to a family that had just moved to town. The town librarian purchased the mahogany dining room table, along with the glass coffee table, end tables and lamps. She had brought her three sons and cleared out her purchases as soon as the transaction had been made. Rosalyn’s couch-being the only thing originally hers-offered her and Bonnie temporary moments of relief.

Several Chang belts and Van der Hoessen bags later, the room emptied out, save a dog-toting woman eyeing the brass elephant that sat in the corner. The woman tapped on the elephant’s head, turning the piece from side to side.

Rosalyn looked at her watch-nine fifteen. Bonnie retreated to the bedroom to do a money count, leaving Rosalyn with the customers.

The brass elephant had been deemed a ‘can’t live without’ by the dog-toting woman. The umbrella stand went home with her as well.

“Just made another $85.” Rosalyn whispered once Bonnie returned.

“That brings our grand total so far to…are you ready for this?”

Rosalyn nodded while taking five more dollars from a man who ‘needed’ a silver monogrammed lighter with her initials on it.

“The total is $6,583.72. The seventy-two cents are from me. I paid you back for the doughnuts I ate.”

“Are you serious?” Rosalyn choked on her third cup of coffee for the morning.

“Yeah, you didn’t need to buy me a doughnut.”

“No, I mean about the six grand.”

“You had a lot of stuff. ‘Had’ being the key word.” Bonnie added the five-dollar bill to the coffee can.

Rosalyn sighed, running her hand along the empty shelves that once held silver knick-knacks and first edition novels.

“You ok?” Bonnie picked up the only remaining crystal figurine; a translucent ballerina with a red rose in her hair.

“Sure, the room just feels so empty.”

“You still have this.” Her friend waved the figurine in front of Rosalyn’s face. “And why exactly, did he give you this, Ros?”

“He said ‘because of the rose in her hair’.”

“Oh.” Bonnie paused. “Did he call you ‘Rose’?”

“No, not once.” Rosalyn smiled.

Her friend giggled and set the ballerina back on the shelf.

“You ain’t buyin’ that, are ya?” A short man in an oversized polo peered from the kitchen doorway and into the living room.

“No, I’m not. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was left.” Bonnie positioned herself between Rosalyn and the lumbering man, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Sorry, I didn’t know I was supposed to be gone.” He approached the two ladies cautiously, palms up in front of him.

“Forgive her. She’s rather protective.” Rosalyn moved around Bonnie to address the man. “For twenty dollars, it’s yours.”

“Sold.” He grabbed the figurine as quickly as he could, laid a twenty in Rosalyn’s hand, and wobbled out of the front door.

“It feels so cleansing to get rid of all this stuff. And I loved seeing people light up when they buy it.” Rosalyn stuffed the bill into the coffee can.

“That happens when they score something for one-fiftieth of what it costs.”

“It’s a great fresh start, don’t you think?” She glanced around the room.

“You are definitely back to square one. You sold almost everything in your entire house. Hello, hello, hello….” Her friend pretended the room echoed back to her.

“I heard a group of women say they found out about my sale at their salon. People were talking about my sale.” Rosalyn smiled.

“News travels fast in this town, I guess.” Her friend shrugged.

“And a couple told me their Friday night babysitter called them about my sale.” Rosalyn whispered, then continued pacing the room. “I was on the news. I have never been on the news. Me! Rosalyn of ‘Mutt Shots’ was on the news.”

“Woah there, little filly. Settle down.” Her friend grabbed Rosalyn’s shoulders.

“I wonder if this is how Trump feels when he buys new real estate.”

“Trump?”

“It’s a stretch, I know. But today was fantastic. It was just what I needed.” Rosalyn grinned from ear to ear.

“Well, let’s make sure there aren’t any more men lingering about before we call it a day.” Bonnie let go of Rosalyn’s shoulders.

The two made a quick inspection of the house, ensuring no other customers remained.

“I locked the front door. Now, let’s order some pizza. I’m exhausted.” Bonnie pulled out her cell phone.

“I feel like I could run a marathon after all this excitement. But, pizza does sound good. My treat?” Rosalyn extracted a couple of bills from the coffee can.

“I hope your sudden wealth doesn’t make me a charity case.” Bonnie started to dial the Pizza Shack.

“Why whatever do you mean, dah-ling?” Rosalyn pointed her nose to the ceiling while prancing through the sparse living room.

“Rosalyn is that a Mrs. Fitzhugh impersonation? And if so, shame on you.” Bonnie shook her head, but a giggle escaped from her mouth.

“I know, I know. I need to forgive the Fitzhugh’s.” Rosalyn quit prancing and stuck out her bottom lip.

“And…?” Bonnie asked.

“And Twig.” She grumbled.

“Well, that’s a start. We’ll work on it. Now, let’s get some pizza. I’m starving.”