Underestimated

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, dead or alive are a figment of my imagination and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s mind's eye and are not to be interpreted as real.

  Warning! This is not your everyday fall in love romance. This book contains disturbing situations, strong language, graphic, sexual content, some forced, some not. If it's your happily ever after love story that you are looking for, you should probably move on. If you are up for the ride, stick around and it may just turn into a love story after all.

  Dedication

  To Syd for all of your feedback and support.

  To Ms. C. Barr for the hours of perverted conversations while this book was being transformed.

  Only at the warehouse.

  Copyright© 2013 Jettie Woodruff

  All rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Of all of the thirty-six alternatives, running away is best.

  I couldn’t hold my eyes open for one more second. I had just driven two thousand nine hundred and fifty four miles, fifty seven hours, not including the six hours that I tried to sleep at the Motel 6, twice. Thirty four more miles, according to the robotic voice coming from the box stuck to the windshield of my not so new, used car.

  The closer I got, the more my nerves began to stand on end. What the hell was I doing? Who does this? Who walks away from their life to start all over? And when I say all over, I truly mean all over. My entire existence had been nothing but an illusion.

  My name is no longer Morgan Kelley. That one would take some getting used to. I spent hours of my long drive going over the aspects of my new life with my invisible friend in the passenger seat. We actually had hours of conversations, okay, so they were one sided, but they were without doubt, conversations. I had even given my new friend a name and called him slash, after the three inch gash in the cheap vinyl seat.

  My name is Riley Murphy. I moved to Misty Bay, Maine from Carson, Indiana when my company downsized, and I lost my job as an advertising rep. The small two bedroom cottage was a gift from my late grandmother. “Wow, a small cottage in Misty Bay, population, one thousand seventy five.” I interrupted my life studies when reality sat in for the millionth time since I had left Las Vegas. I mean Indiana. “Dammit Morg... Shit, I mean Riley.” I need to sleep. I just need sleep. I can’t function. I know this. I have it all embedded in my brain. I am going to be fine, and there is nobody from Misty Bay, Maine looking for me. I had to stop. I couldn’t repeat my new life out loud or to myself, one more time. Not if I intended to keep my sanity in tack. It was already on the verge of toppling over.

  “Turn right in one point seven miles,” the robotic voice instructed. I turned right and was on a curvy blacktop road barely wide enough for two vehicles. The coast was absolutely breath taking, and did wonders for my nerves. I reached over and cranked the handle, rolling down the passenger side window. My nerves calmed even more when I heard the waves crashing to the rock walls below me. I couldn’t believe it. I was going to be living by the ocean. I could walk along the beach anytime I wanted, and I would too, I promised myself.

  ‘Welcome to Misty Bay,’ I finally read the homemade wooden sign, situated in the fresh spring, green leafed trees off the side of the road. I drove through the small town, looking out every window in the car. My head spun around until it wouldn’t rotate any further. One bank, one post office, one grocery store, one small library which looked like it would fit in the one that I use to go to in Las, I mean Indiana, at least ten times.

  ‘Reminiscent,’ I read as I pulled to the curb. This was where I would be working. Me, working in a coffee shop slash, hippy store. I had never had a job in my life. I felt a little whinsical thinking about it. I looked into my rearview mirror. I still had the bruise just below my right eye, but I had four days to get settled before I started work. It should be gone by then.

  I waited for the school bus to pass and continued on my journey, excited to finally reach my destination. “Turn right,” the voice instructed again. I made a right and was on a one lane graveled road. It was a quaint little neighborhood, and an older gentleman waved as I passed him retrieving his mail. “Arriving at destination, on right,” I was informed. It wasn’t what I was expecting at all. The cottage was sort of by the beach, and I hoped there was a strategy to get off of the mountaintop to enjoy it. The aqua blue color of the house had to go. Who in their right mind would paint a house that color? It was the ugliest blue I had ever seen. I actually had a sundress pretty close to that color. I wouldn’t be wearing that, I decided when I got out of my car. It was the beginning of May and the temperature might have been sixty. When I left Las, I mean Indiana, it was ninety nine.

  I opened the gate, just off from the driveway. The picket fence was nice, and I liked the white, but would unquestionably be changing the color of the house. I walked up the small porch and unlocked the door, the door to my new home. “Wow,” I said out loud to no one. The living room was open and led to the small dining area. I walked across the hardwood floor to the other side. I loved the French doors that led to a nice deck, although it was further away from the beach than I had hoped. I turned back to the bright yellow walls on every wall that I could see. The kitchen wasn’t bad and had updated, modern appliances, but the bright yellow paint was already giving me a migraine. The countertops were a dark gray color. I thought that they were some kind of fake marble, but I could work with that.

  I walked toward the side of the house and peeked in the bathroom. I was pleasantly surprised. I was happy to see the rather large claw foot tub, and was gratified to see that the walls were a pleasant neutral, olive green color. I liked that room, and it only needed a good cleaning. I opened the first bedroom door and thought it would make a nice office. It was small but had a reasonable size window overlooking the ocean. I could even live with the light blue walls. The next room was bigger, but nothing like I was used to in Indiana. I smiled to myself when I remembered that I was from Indiana and not Las Vegas. It too had a marvelous view, overlooking pine trees and also the Atlantic Ocean. The walls were a soft, subtle gray, and I loved it. One less thing to do. I noticed how rocky the yard seemed to be, and then it dawned me. I would have to mow and take care of the yard myself. At least there was a small shed to keep a lawn mower. Lawnmower? I didn’t know how to buy a lawnmower. Where do you even buy those things?

  Okay so maybe I didn’t think this through all that well. I had no bed. Where was I supposed to sleep? The only furniture left in the house was a table and four chairs. The table was one of those round plastic outdoor tables with a hole running through the middle of it for an umbrella. The four plastic chairs didn’t even match. One was green, one was white, and two were brown. No co
uch either, this was just brilliant. I had the money, and I had planned on buying new everything. That part I was looking forward to, however, it didn’t help much at seven o’clock on a Thursday night. Food! I had no food either. I was so tired. I honestly didn’t want to go back into town, although it would have taken me a full three minutes to drive. I decided to unload my car and at least get a much needed hot shower. No. I wouldn’t be doing that either. Well I could, but I had no soap, no shampoo, no wash cloth, and not even a towel to dry on. I didn’t even have a blanket to cover up with, let alone lie on.

  I unloaded what clothes that I had. Nothing was mine, not even the clothes that I was wearing. Ms. K had made me change them and put on the ones that she had gotten for me. I didn’t even take any of the expensive items from Drew. Ms. K told me not to, afraid that if I pawned them, they might be traced, and that was a chance that I wasn’t willing to take. I didn’t even get the one framed picture of my Grandma Joyce, the only person who had ever cared about me or my wellbeing. The pictures of my life after Drew could have gone up in flames, and I wouldn’t have cared.

  After I had my clothes carried to the room that I would call mine, I dragged myself back out to the car. I remembered seeing a Dollar General Store back in town. At least I could get a pillow, and a couple of blankets to sleep on. I desperately wanted some bathroom supplies, and I supposed that I should go to the grocery store.

  I went to the Dollar store first, that was my first mistake. By the time I had bought two hundred and twelve dollars’ worth of supplies, enough to get me through until I could go shopping the next day, the grocery store had closed. I bought a coffee pot and had no coffee for the next morning. My new adventurous beginning was not in accordance with how my mind had played it out… at all. What was I supposed to eat now? I hadn’t had anything since around noon, wanting to put the miles behind me, and just get there already. Get there, to an ugly blue house that was close to the beach, if you could get down the mountain. Get there to a house without a bed or food. Get there to a house that I had to wear my sunglasses inside because the bright yellow paint hurt my eyes.

  I unloaded my new belongings. I didn’t put anything away in the bathroom. It seriously needed a good scrubbing. Why didn’t I buy cleaning supplies at the dollar store? At least I could have disinfected the tub. I used the cheap strawberries, and cream shampoo and a new washcloth to clean the tub, and then filled it with hot sudsy water. It felt sensational, and the tension that had begun to build again started to evaporate. I tried to think about my new life and making the house my home, but my mind kept drifting back to Drew. It had been four days now since I had vanished from his life. I wondered about his reaction when he realized that I had disappeared. What went through his mind when he dialed my cellphone? I didn’t even know where it was. I wondered if anyone would answer it. I knew he was probably beyond irate, and I was sure that a few things had gotten broke during his discovery.

  I woke to the sun pouring in through the window. My homemade bed must have been sufficient. I slept the whole night without waking once. I didn’t waste time stretching and lingering around in bed the way that I was used to. I got straight up, brushed my teeth and pulled my long dark hair into a ponytail. I still had a hard time looking in the mirror without double taking. My hair had been blonde for the past six years, and my natural brown, seemed so distant and foreign now. My bruised cheekbone also looked better. You could barely see it once I applied the foundation.

  I pulled on a pair of hand-me-down jeans and a sweatshirt. That was the part about Las, I mean Indiana that I was going to find the most difficult. It was May, and the weather was so diverse. I could handle it, had it been a bit different, but forty degrees different? Come on. Why didn’t I get a choice? I surely would have chosen a warmer climate. How were you supposed to enjoy living by a beach when you wore a continuous layer of goose bumps?

  I had breakfast at Millie’s Diner. Millie herself waited on me.

  “Good morning. Can I start you off with some coffee?” she asked.

  “Yes. Thank you. That would be great.” I chose to sit at the bar and thumbed through a newspaper.

  “Here you go sweetie. Do you need a few minutes yet?” The friendlier than I was used to lady asked.

  “No. I’m ready. Could I get gravy and biscuits and two slices of bacon?”

  “You sure can, coming right up.”

  I read through the local paper, smiling at its size. It was a full four pages. The Vegas Sun was dictionary compared to the Misty Bay Daily News. The front page talked about the events planned for the year’s Summer Fest. There would be apple bobbing, grease pole climbing, corn hole tournaments, a wood chopping competition, and the list went on and on for the weekend long celebration. Saturday night would be no kid’s night, and it described the street dancing and wine tasting events for adults only. I flipped the page and read about the new breast milk flavored coffee at ‘Reminiscent.’ Are you kidding me? Where the hell was I going to be working? Where the hell would you even get breast milk? I kept reading and learned the benefits of breast milk coffee. I would not be trying the breast milk coffee. I was sure of that. Gross.

  “Here you go honey,” Millie said, setting my plate in front of me. It looked mouthwatering. Either that or my stomach was so hungry, it would have looked mouthwatering had it been a plate of gravy and worms. It was delicious, and I am sure I ate it in record time. Millie probably thought I hadn’t eaten in weeks. She refilled my coffee cup, and I thanked her. The diner was fairly empty and had only a few people; of course it was getting kind of late for breakfast.

  It was almost eleven. I hadn’t even started my long list of shopping yet, let alone the cleaning that needed to be done. I was, however, feeling a little less uneasy that morning. I had plenty of time to do it. I may not finish in the next three days, but I would be working mostly days so I would just have to work on it in the evenings after work. I was going to need something to do in order to keep my mind from thinking too much anyway.

  “Is there a furniture store around here?” I asked Millie when she slid me a small strawberry Danish.

  “There’s one over on Long Road. Is there something particular that you are looking for?”

  I took a bite of the cheese Danish. “Hmm, this is amazing,” I told her as the warm contents of strawberry and cream cheese teased my taste buds. “I kind of need everything,” I smiled up at her.

  “You bought Clara Bliss’s little cottage, didn’t you?”

  Clara Bliss? How was I supposed to answer that? No. I live in a house that my grandmother left for me. That was what I was supposed to say. That’s what Ms. K told me to say. Who is Clara Bliss?

  “Clara lived there up until about ten years or so ago.” Millie started to explain. I breathed a sigh of relief. “She moved to Portland to be closer to her grandchildren. The house has sat empty for a good many years. You can thank her for the lovely colors,” she winked, and it made me smile.

  Shew, I didn’t have to explain anything.

  “Where is Long Road? Do they have pretty much everything? Do they deliver?”

  Millie laughed at my run-on sentence. I didn’t mean not to give her time to answer. I was just happy we weren’t talking about my house anymore.

  “Yes. You can get furniture for every room in the house, including curtains.”

  I was glad she mentioned curtains. I had neglected to add them to my long list.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking a ten dollar bill from my purse. I liked Millie, and I hoped we would become friends. She was probably twenty years or more, older than me, but nonetheless she was a very nice lady.

  “Can I offer you some more advice?” she asked.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “There is a place about fifteen miles from here called Potters. It’s a warehouse full of housewares. I am sure you could buy everything you need there, and they only sell American made,” she added, proud of that fact.

  I took out a piece of paper. �
�Thank you, Millie. I will definitely go there. Do you know the address?”

  Millie laughed a short laugh. “You don’t need an address sweetie. Turn right at the stop light and drive till you see the billboard on the left that says Potters. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you. I better get going. I have a long day ahead of me,” I smiled and left the ten dollars on the counter, leaving her a three a dollar tip.

  “Come back this evening. Tonight is meatloaf Friday,” she invited, and I left with a nod and a smile.

  I knew I wouldn’t be back. I had too much to do, but I would come back and have meatloaf Friday sometime. I hadn’t had meatloaf since before my Grandma Joyce passed away.

  I drove to the furniture store first. I couldn’t believe the prices. I had twenty-five thousand dollars in pre-paid visa cards to buy everything that I needed, and I wasn’t going to spend near what I thought I would. I was pleasantly surprised at the quality. The dining room table that I had picked out would have cost me probably five times as much back in Las, I mean Indiana. I ended up buying more than what was even on my list. I hadn’t planned on buying an area rug, a desk, television or coffee and end tables. I got everything that I needed for a fraction of what I had planned on spending.

  I was on cloud nine, up until it was time to pay that is. I was standing at the counter, and the older man asked for my last name.

  Dammit. What is it? I was drawing a blank. I had the Riley part, but the last name just wasn’t registering. I could feel my face becoming flush when I didn’t answer right away. He stood in front of me, awkwardly wondering why I wasn’t answering.

  “Murphy,” I almost yelled, when it finally came to me. He gave me a funny look and turned back to his computer screen.