BLU AND FRIENDS

"Skimpiness will take you no where, Greta!"

That's the first thing Charlie hears when she walks out to her mini vegetable garden.

Mama Freya has her frail walking stick poking around the exposed skin on Nora's body. Her butt is on the edge of her rocking chair and her eyes as wide as she yells words of wisdom at the uncomfortable girl.

"Stop pointing this thing at me, old lady!" Nora swats the walking stick, "and I'm not Greta!"

Mama Freya gasps, "What are you doing on my lawn?!" She shrieks loudly, almost rocking herself off the chair. Charlie sees this as an invitation to save both women; one from having a broken neck.

"Wha— What?!" Nora throws her free hand in abandon, "Your box of peppers appeared on my doorstep! Again!" The college girl slams the cardboard box full of peppers on the patio table.

"Peppers?"

"Yes! Yes, pe— okay," Nora takes a long breath and releases it long after. Her hand curls into fists, "Okay! It's okay! I'm so fucking fed up! Your house number is 15 and mine is 21, okay? You can't keep mixing up the stupid address!"

She points to Mama Freya's house, "15!" Then points to hers, "21!" She yanks her hand from Charlie's gentle hold before groaning and stomping off across the street.

The old woman rests her walking stick against the leg of the patio table before turning to a smiling Charlie, "Greta?"

"Beautiful morning, Mama Freya!"

"It is. It is."

"Can I carry your box of peppers inside?" Charlie grabs the box before asking.

Mama Freya purses her lip, "No."

Charlie giggles before kissing the old woman's forehead, "Okay." She then walks into her apartment with the box of peppers.

After keeping the peppers, Charlie decides to make the old woman a bowl of bland custard garnished with chopped vegetables. She stays for some time to ensure the old woman doesn't "mistakenly" spill all the custard from her bowl before walking back to her apartment.

She has some cleaning and childproofing to do against tomorrow morning. It isn't a stick in her craw seeing as she has to do this every Tuesday and Thursday.

Charlie spends the whole morning watering the garden and trimming the stems. She decides to take brunch with Bulky; who agreed—in a few words—to vacuum clean the living room. After eating breakfast, she lounges on the beanbag, a distance from Bulky, with her laptop on her lap.

She's in the process of editing a book due till next year. Seeing as she impressively finished the LeCara project, Mr. Gibson, her greedy boss decided it would be nice to dump two projects on her at once.

She considers ordering pizza, not totally because she's hungry but I'd feel nice to be around a familiar face.

Charlie groans when she hears a ding from her laptop and the mail icon pops up. She ignores it. It's probably from her boss. Instead, she clicks on the minimized page below her desktop and the word document envelopes the screen.

Just as she is about to start editing, the intro to Dua Lipa's Levitating blasts out in the serene apartment. Charlie blushes as Bulky looks up from the page he's been focused on for the past ten minutes. A blank look makes Charlie apologize lowly and grab her phone from the center table.

"Jordan." She answers curtly.

"Hello, I'm calling from Scotland and I'd like to ask if there's a certain Blurin Jameson in your residence?" A thickly accented voice queries.

Charlie furrows her brows, she glances at Bulky who stares at her intently, "Er... What? Excuse me?"

The voice at the other end of the phone sighs noisily before replying, "I'm sorry. Let me introduce myself. My name is Dr. Tristan Denvard and my... patient is currently in Steinfield, precisely around your block. I've called up to 24 houses looking for my client. You're the 25th house and 25 is my lucky number, I hope." He mutters the last part.

Charlie stares at her laptop screen, her mind reeling. What's up with this week? First, Mario has a wife, then, She finds a man shivering in her backyard patio, then, a vague phone call! Pull her hair!

"Are you stalking me?" She whispers with a gasp.

"No, dear no! I'm not! Oh God, "The man exclaims,

"I'm cutting the call now sir,"

"WAIT! Look, my client is a very tall man with black hair and sky blue eyes and doesn't talk. He's extremely shy and loves teasing and reading..." Tristan, the man, replies with a rushed tone.

Charlie's gaze draws to Bulky's large form. His eyes are trained carefully on the book in his hands; the same book Charlie had given to him when he looked so bored.

Bulky does have blue eyes and doesn't talk. He's more than tall, too.

Before she could stop it, her mouth spoke, "Are you gonna take him away?"

Tristan doesn't reply for about a minute before he clears his throat, "Do you mind if I fly over next week to discuss somethings with Blurin?"

"His name is Blurin?" Charlie scoffs.

Her eyes widen when Bulky raises his head from the book so fast and looks at her.

Oh, so his name is Blurin.

"Yes. Unusual, but yes."

Charlie hums.

"So, expect me next week?"

"Ye... Yes, okay sure! But... Um... You'd have to call the Steinfield police department to clarify things with them since you'd have to pass through a Police check before you are allowed passage."

"I sure will! Thank you so much, miss, for taking care of my client. I'm so grateful you allowed him to stay with you despite his..." He clears his throat, "Height."

I didn't think that two days ago...

"It's okay. He's no bother."

"Thank you, I'll see you next week, goodbye miss!"

"Yeah, bye." She mutters before the line is cut off.

Charlie stares into space for some time, trying to register what just happened.

Is this like a curse? Bad luck? The bad luck from breaking up with Mario?

Should she have stayed with Deedah for the whole month?

Maybe this is a secret curse that her grandmother always rambles about! Oh no, that woman is just downright crazy.

Charlie puffs a breath before stealing a glance at Bul—

No.

Blurin.