Arms Wide Open: a Novella by Juli Caldwell

another
blast from the past. Oliver.”
    “Your midget boyfriend?”
    “He’s not an actual midget, and most
midgets find that term incredibly insensitive.”
    She shrugs. “If it walks like a midget
and talks like a midget...”
    I throw a pillow at her to shut her up.
“Oliver. He’s fantastic. He was there too, trying to convince women like us to
run away to join a circus with him, and they all took him seriously. Can you
believe it?” I can’t help laughing.
    I sigh and keep going. “He had no idea
what I’d done, what happened with Coral, or how I got so sick so fast. I pulled
away from everyone and everything I cared about because I was worried I’d screw
up, hurt them all again. I think seeing Grant was...I don’t know...good for me.
I needed to see him happy and successful. I know he’s okay and he’s moved on.
    “But seeing Oliver...I think talking it
out with him got my brain working. He got me thinking of what I could do to
honor the life of a girl much too young to die. I mean, what would she say if
she saw me lying all stinky and depressed on the couch earlier tonight? I can
almost hear her voice telling me to get up and get a life. Will it sound crazy
if I say sometimes I feel like she’s with me?” I look down and shake my head,
my hands twitching nervously. “Maybe that’s just me not wanting to let her go.
I don’t know, but she always looked up to me, for whatever reason. I don’t want
to disappoint her.”
    “So you have a plan? What is it?” Harlow
asks quietly. I think she’s afraid I might cry.
    “First of all, you stop looking at me
like I’m going to spontaneously combust, and we eat our take out.”
    She smiles ruefully at me. “Okay, and
then what?”
    “I find a job and do it well. Then I
roll my parents into starting the Coral Brooks scholarship fund for foster
girls, using the life insurance policy they had on her. What do you think?”
    She nods approvingly. “I like it.”
    “My job hunting efforts have been a
little lackluster, but—”
    “A little ? No kidding!” Harlow
snorts.
    I glare at her. “My plan doesn’t require
any commentary from you.”
    “And yet, you will hear it.”
    I laugh. “I know, I know...”
    A knock at the door interrupts us a few
minutes later as I finish fleshing out details for Harlow’s opinion. “Hey, I
got this one,” I tell her as I reach for my purse on the table.
    “You can barely pay rent right now,” she
protests, reaching for her own. “I got it.” She hurries into the hall.
    “Hey, I forgot to tell you, I might have
a temp gig to help me get rent money until...” My voice trails off.
    My huge orange purse is loaded with a
little too much stuff, but usually my wallet sits right on top, my life
preserver floating atop a sea of worthless cosmetic flotsam. But it’s not
there. I start ripping frantically through my bag, looking for it. I throw out
my phone, a notebook, pens in every shade, a few tampons, crinkled up receipts
and gum wrappers. No wallet.
    I dig through it again, checking for
holes in the purse’s lining. Harlow comes back to the table holding a plastic
bag, loaded with two styrofoam containers brim full with Sharky’s
deliciousness. “I can’t find it!”
    “Can’t find what?” she asks, pulling out
her salad. She slides the bag over to me and pops her container open to inspect
the food.
    “My wallet! I know I had it, I just...”
    My voice trails off as I recall the last
moment I saw Grant. I was so flustered that I knocked my purse to the floor and
didn’t bother making sure I had everything. I just grabbed what I could see and
shoved it all back in so I could get out of there. “I left it at the coffee
shop. Are they still open?”
    We glance at the old analog clock
ticking on the wall above the table. Harlow pulls a face. “Sorry, but they
closed an hour ago.”
    Of course. I guess it could be worse.
It’s not like I have much to lose in there. Any potential thief will be
saddened by