Heiress in Distress

•Chapter 8•

•Word Count: 1991

Why can't I crack this already? I sigh frustratedly, rubbing my hand up and down the back of my neck in an effort to relieve the tension that's gathered there.

Oddly, the urge to work the riddle out overrode the need to know the identity of the sender, which justifies my spending the whole afternoon surrounded by crumbled papers and scribbles of all possible solutions.
I glance at the clock. Or not.

Tossing my pencil on the desk and grroaning in exasperation, I can't believe I allowed a stupid puzzle to consume my mind so much that I almost ran late for my meeting with Juniper.
I promised to return to her in a few days, so here I am, 4 days later, rummaging through my closet for a decent outfit to inform her of my final decision.
I have an hour to get ready, making my preparation for the meeting more desperate.

Driven by the assault from last week and the stress at managing between school and work, I decided to take the job, thinking since the opportunity for a breathing space presented itself, why not make the best of it?
Besides, Juniper promised to put me back at the café if I don't find solace in my new job.

I've even been scheduling out my hours, counting on the fact that I'll be having more free time, dividing them among: studying, spending some much needed quality time with Élise, which has been immensely affected by my need to solve the riddle, and a huge gap in the days I'll be working, for I haven't received my working schedule yet.

It takes me at least 30 minutes to get ready, and I'm skipping down the porch steps nearly tripping off in my haste. I cannot afford to be late for this meeting.

•••

I push the stroller forward along the pavement, watching Élise burble merrily to an imaginary friend by her side.
Eyes going wide with excitement every now and then, she fists the fabric at the edge of the stroller, attempting to sit up, only to fall back down due to the confines of the harness.

"Settle down, we're almost there" I tell her when she wails in exasperation after her third attempt.

When the meeting with Juniper, who brought with her the necessary paperwork for my employment as though predicting my taking on the job, went by smoothly, I decided to spend the rest of the day at a local park with Élise.

I stop the stroller right next to a baby swing.
Carefully, I unfasten the harness at the stroller, extricate Élise from her seat, noticing how she lets out joyous squeals and bodily jerks. I can't help the close-lipped chuckle that escapes, amused at her refusal to stay put for a few minutes.

I gently place her onto the baby swing, but not before checking the ground anchors' sturdiness and the chains' secureness.

Once she's settled, I begin gently pushing her, eliciting a wide grin with toothless gums in full view.
On the third push, she gives out a loud, surprised yelp, almost choking at the gust of wind, making me toss my head back in laughter.

The timely tilt of my head allowed me to see something I wouldn't have, had I been preoccupied with Élise.
At the other side of the street, a woman with red hair eerily similar to Juniper's bends down to plant a soft kiss atop the blonde head of a young boy, who smiles up before climbing into the backseat of a waiting car.

An ear piercing screech and a feeble growl drags my attention back to a very displeased Élise, whose hands are fisted tightly and a deep knot is formed between her eyebrows at the now still swing. I absent-mindedly stopped swinging her.

Every trace of anger vanishes at the first gentle push, replaced by pure joy manifested in her guttural laughing.
I wonder how she'll be once she's out of the swing, let alone when we return home.