The owner of the used furniture shop “Used but New” was a tall, scrawny man in his mid-fifties with the name Frank on a tag clipped to his shirt that bore the emblem of the Black-backed Jackal gang. Great, another fucking bikie owned shop. He had that air of authority and importance about him that would have irritated just about anyone trying to have a word with him. I sort of regretted not wearing my nice clothes because he looked past me as I stood in front of him like I was a peasant unworthy of his attention. The years in tiding my anger into an almost non-existent entity had softened me up and made me into a passive type of person that took the abuse when thrown at me, but with my mother dying and the shocking news of her change – as well as the change in that house – I really wasn’t in the mood to be walked all over today.

“How much are you asking for?” he’d eventually asked when I’d told him about the house.

“I don’t want any money. I just want the furniture gone. I need the place cleared out,” I explained, feeling more annoyed that he was barely looking me in the eyes.

“I’m not some dump truck that’ll just take anyone’s furniture. I have a certain taste. Look around my store and see for yourself. I don’t sell anything of subpar standards.”

“If you’re trying to tell me I’m trash, then you’re a really shit businessman,” I snapped. “The furniture at my mother’s house is barely a year old. Most definitely not subpar standards, and you could have had it all for free, but your shit attitude’s ruined that. I’m going to go and find a better businessman, thank you very much.”

I stormed out of there before he could say another word. Really, the audacity! I looked down at my clothes once more. Certainly not trash worthy at all! Maybe the asshole had something against young women. Or maybe he was just a douchebag to everyone. If there was one thing I learned in the last few years it was that some people were just mean. There didn’t have to be a reason for it.

“Miss?” I heard just as I made it to my car. I turned around and saw the man walking toward me with a notepad and pen in his hand. His face didn’t look as stern as before, but there was still that air of intimidation as he approached. “I meant no offense,” he said. “I’d be happy to take a look at the furniture. If you could give me your number, I can contact you with the time I can come around.”

I took the pen and notepad from his hand and jotted down my name and number. “What day do you think you can swing by? I’m only fifteen minutes away.”

“I might be able to on Friday.”

“Friday?” I looked up at him with disapproving eyes. “That’s three days away.”

He shrugged. “I have a large warehouse full of furniture, and my guys spend their days doing deliveries and pick-ups. I don’t have a lot of time on my hands.”

Maybe I could get the landlord to be there on Friday because I sure as hell didn’t want to stick around another three days. “Alright,” I begrudgingly said.

When I handed him the paper, he looked down at my name and his eyebrows lifted. “Miss Nolan? You’re Joanne’s daughter, aren’t you?”

Jesus, how many people knew my mother? “Yes.”

“Terribly sorry for your loss, Miss Nolan. Your mother… was a good woman.” His lips pursed as he looked down, mumbling, “Have a good day.” He turned around and hurriedly made his way to the shop. All intimidating grace had evaporated into an awkwardness that left me confused. What the hell was that all about?

I took a seat in the car and listened to my stomach grumble. I hadn’t eaten a thing all day. I was craving something fatty and, being a close distance to a major shopping centre, I was again filled with the nostalgia of a certain food and knew what I wanted.

On my way into the shopping centre, Lexi called, asking me delicate questions about how I was feeling. No doubt Daniel had let something slip to her.

“Do you need me to come and see you? I can take a couple days off,” she offered for the fourth time.

“No, no, I’ll be fine,” I told her as I stepped into the food court. I couldn’t get my head wrapped around the amount of people. It was Tuesday afternoon and swarming with mummies and their kids, and lots of fathers. These must have been the mining workers on their swings off spending time with their families. You could tell from the tan that a lot of the men sported from being outdoors in the sun while working long hours.

“How long do you think you’ll take?”

“Dunno. I’d like to be gone the next day or so, but I’ve got her furniture I need to get rid of, and then I need to sort through all sorts of boxes.”

“Have you even started on them?”

“Not yet.”

Lexi sighed. “Why not?”

“Because,” I shrugged, stepping into a long line in front of a Chinese buffet.

“Have you visited her?”

Now it was my turn to sigh. “No, I didn’t visit my mother’s gravesite. Any other delicate questions you want to get out of the way?” I ignored the turn of heads in my direction.

“Don’t be a bitch. I’m just asking. Remember that’s what Dr Shipton advised you to do a long time ago. He said to see her, have a talk and learn to put what she did to you behind you.”

“You know, I really wish I never told you my conversations with my therapist. I should have known they’d come back to bite me in the ass.”

She laughed. “I never forget a thing. I need to get back to work. Love you, dimwit.”

“Yeah, yeah, ditto.”

I ordered my giant plate, filled it up with hot and spicy pork, vegetable fried rice, and Chicken Lo Mein. Then I made my way to an empty table and ate my guts out, knocking back a cold can of Coke. This was absolute carbocide, and with my lack of exercising as of late due to the chilly weather deterring my outdoor runs, I knew my jeans were going to be feeling tighter within the hour. I made a mental note to join the damn gym the second I returned to Winthrop.

It was nearing three in the afternoon when I finally got up and hobbled to the toilets. I pulled out a toothbrush in my purse and some travel size toothpaste and brushed my teeth, taking my time as I stared at myself in the mirror. My pale complexion haunted me. Just what did Daniel find so attractive about me? I looked like the saddest person in the world, but it wasn’t like I was depressed or anything. I was just… content with life. Not particularly happy or jumping in joy or anything, but I had nothing to complain about. I wasn’t tied down to anything, had no debts, was happy with my job and co-workers, had a damn good friend at home, and a love life that was….