A Box of Ex’s

Chapter 1: Breakdown

Sal popped a chocolate in her mouth and looked at the pile of paperwork. Alice was cracking the whip. There were three new admissions, and the paperwork was piling up. This was the worst possible time for the stupid copier to break down. Sally punched in the phone number of the Fuji Xerox help desk, pressed button 2, and listened to the insipid music. She wished Alice could talk management into upping the budget so they could get a new machine. Dear God, this music was atrocious. 

She glanced out the glass doors in time to see Millie wandering around the carpark – lost. How had she escaped again? The woman was a regular Houdini. 

Browns Bay was a sleepy little seaside village, however, the rest home was situated on a busy corner, and she certainly didn’t want a confused Millie trying to cross the road. The customer service representative answered just as Sally grabbed the arm of a passing carer. She pointed at Millie, and mouthed, “Quick, get her!” 

The carer ran outdoors and began to gently coax Millie inside. 

“Fuji Xerox, how can I assist,” an upbeat female voice asked. 

Sally thought of multiple smart-ass answers but with restraint said, “The photocopier has packed up again, and I need someone to come out to take a look at it asap!” She rattled off the details and hung up. 

Smiling sweetly, Daisy, the cook, popped the food list in her in-tray. Knowing how much Sal hated doing that online order she placed a chocolate-chip cookie and a coffee on Sal’s desk as a bribe, before scuttling back to the kitchen as quick as a hungry cockroach. Daisy was an excellent cook, not trained or qualified; she just knew how to make everything taste better. Her special ingredient was love. 

Sal put the shopping list on top of the other urgent must do paperwork and logged into the website. But when the strapping, handsome, six-foot-something technician breezed into the office, the room temperature went up several notches. He was smoking hot. He was a George Clooney lookalike but with height and strong broad shoulders.

She honed in for the kill, fixing her hazel eyes on him. Then flashed him her award-winning smile, flicked her long blonde hair back off her face, and swept around the desk. 

“Chase,” he said introducing himself. “I hear you’re experiencing a problem?” His blue eyes dazzled as he stretched forth his hand.

“Sally,” she replied, taking his hand and holding it a second too long. She had to bite her lip to stop herself saying, I have many problems and I’d like you to solve them all. Instead offering to show him what was wrong, she sashayed across to the photocopier. 

She gave him her best helpless look. “I think this is where the problem lies.” Bending she wiggled the bypass tray. For a split second, Sal thought about attempting the Legally Blonde ‘Bend and Snap’ manoeuvre, but thought with her luck she’d probably knock him out cold. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll have it fixed in a jiffy,” he promised. 

Sal sincerely hoped not. She was enjoying the distraction, but true to his word Chase had the copier fixed in a few minutes. When he came to the front desk to sign out Sal checked his ring finger – good, no ring. Not wanting him to leave so soon she flirted shamelessly, giggling like a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl. He flirted back, and there was crackling electricity in the air.  

Sal drove straight home in her racy little yellow Mini singing ‘I’m in love again’ at the top of her lungs. She turned into the Longview Apartments; a small complex of adjoined apartments sharing a private driveway and courtyard. She shared her apartment with Kat – a gorgeous voluptuous beauty in her late twenties, with long dark tresses and legs up to her armpits. When they first met, Sal wasn’t sure about Kat because she had such a flip nature, but they hit it off and had been flatting together ever since. 

Sal was pleased to see she had beaten Kat home for a change. First one home got to park in the garage. Second one home parked outside in the shared drive. Kat always seemed to get home first. She worked in the city as an administrator for an advertising agency. Sal thought Kat should be modelling instead of working as a receptionist for an advertising agency. Kat had heaps of cool work stories about media stars dropping into to her workplace. Somehow Kat never had to work late to catch up on paperwork. She was either super-efficient or had nothing to do. 

Sal pressed the remote, drove into the garage and parked her car. She left her bag and coat on the front seat, and jumped out of the Mini, slamming the door behind her. She needed to check her box of exs before she got in too deep. The small silver case hid on the top shelf at the rear of the garage. It was the size of a lunchbox; metal with black clasps. The box was loaded with secret memories, some things best kept in the dark. Sal found it, carefully lifted the box down, and unsnapped the clasps. She took out the first photo and stared at him. Hemi. Her first boyfriend and without a doubt her worst. He was a rebel without a cause. What she had seen in him was bad boy excitement. What a mistake he had been. Her father had been right. She shuffled the photos and stared at the next one, her first true love, David. She sighed. She had loved him, warts and all. It still made her sad that she’d had to end it but she wasn’t putting up with his lying cheating ways.

“What you doing?” Kat asked, stepping into the garage, her arms laden with laundry. She had been so focused on the contents of the box that she hadn’t heard Kat come home.

Sal jerked in surprise, dropping the photos. They scattered on the floor like a deck of playing cards. 

She hurriedly gathered them. “I…um…am just looking through my box of exs.”

Kat put the washing basket on top of the clothes drier and came closer. “Your box of what?” she asked, peering over Sal’s shoulder.

Sal wanted to hide them but it was too late. “Exs. You know – ex-boyfriends.” 

“Really? You have that many?” Kat raised her brows. “Tell me you just have their photos and their body parts are not hanging up somewhere.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Sal said, peeved. “Not all are exs, some were just wannabes.” 

Kat exuded confidence. She had a warped sense of humour and always played the devil’s advocate. 

She swept her long dark hair back off her face as she leaned over and made a grab for the photos. “Here, give us a look.”

Reluctantly, Sal handed over the bundle. 

“Who’s the monobrow?” Kat asked, chuckling. 

“That’s Hemi.” 

“Looks like a caveman.”

“He was,” Sal replied, snatching the photo. 

“Why do you keep them?” Kat asked as if she thought Sal was mentally disturbed. “I mean what’s the point?”

“It’s to remind me of what I don’t want. A kind of profiling, I guess.”

“You’re weird,” Kat replied, with a quick shake of her head. Kat had had lots of boyfriends and there was always someone sniffing around but she was picky. “Are you going to spend all night out here, or do you want something to eat?”

“Be in soon.”

Kat chucked the washing in the machine, added powder, and switched it on. “Don’t be all night.”

Sal flicked through the pictures, there was Tom, he was a blip. Then Marty, too intense. Phil, too controlling. Steve, good kisser but no substance and tight as a fish’s bum. Kurt, nice but unreliable. Ken, too broken. Don, the stalker, who couldn’t take no for an answer. Niall, who was way too young. And then, hidden underneath the black satin lining there were the dark secrets best left forgotten. She had always been unlucky in love, and always had terrible taste in men. And here she was, dreaming about a photocopier man who probably wanted nothing more than to do his job and go home. 

It was time for a reality check. Chase was a tall, well-built Clooney look-alike, but he was hardly a Mills and Boons prince. He was a photocopier repairman for heaven’s sakes. Hadn’t she suffered enough heartbreak? She should be happy to have a boring little life with no dramas. But she liked drama and romance and hoped to one day find her forever love. Sal popped the photographs back in the case and snapped the clasps shut before heading in for dinner. 

They had chicken kebabs and salad for dinner and, busy with their own thoughts, ate in silence. Sal knew it wouldn’t be long before curiosity got the better of Kat and she’d ask about the box of exs. 

Intrigued, Kat wanted to know more. Still, she waited until after dinner to ask. “Want to tell me in chronological order or alphabetical?

Sal poured herself a glass of wine and sighed dramatically. “It would take too long.”

“I’ve got all night.” Cat-like, Kat curled up on the couch with a glass of wine within reach and eyeballed Sal across the coffee table. 

“I’m not going anywhere, and I’m all ears. Spill.” 

She’d noticed Hemi the moment he’d walked into the coffee shop. He wasn’t handsome, but he was loud, and had a swagger about him that made you believe he was a capable, interesting dude. Turned out to be an arrogant prick, but she didn’t know that then. She was young, and still at school. They’d struck up a conversation and he’d wowed her from the get go. His exploits were incredible; it didn’t take too long until she realised most of them were bullshit. But being an impressionable teen, Sal was caught; hook, line and sinker. 

Hemi was broke, but he had been given a car. No, it couldn’t really be called a car – it was a wreck. A clothes peg held the bonnet closed. 

Still, he said, when he picked her up for their first date, it had a full tank of gas. 

“Let’s go for a drive.”

Sal was wearing a nice summer dress and strappy heels. She wrinkled her nose at the car, opened the door and climbed in. 

As they drove into the country, Sal began to worry. She didn’t know this guy, and they appeared to be miles from anywhere. She was freaking out when the car stopped dead. 

Hemi hopped out and checked the engine, then the petrol tank. He opened the cap and stuck a long, thin, tapering stick into the tank; it came out bone dry. The gauge was faulty and they were out of gas.

“Sorry,” he apologised. “Guess we are going to have to walk.”

Walk! They were miles from anywhere! And because she had been trying to impress him, she had worn heels. Being five foot nothing she needed to add a little height figuring that it would make it easier for him to kiss her. She was now regretting having made that choice as they walked along the gravel road. She was beginning to think she’d have blisters the size of golf balls when Hemi suggested they pop into a farmhouse and ask if they could have some petrol. If it had been dark enough, he might have tried to pinch some, but it was a clear day with not a cloud in the sky. Footsore and grumpy, Sal agreed; asking for gas was better than walking all the way home. 

Amused, the farmer watched Sal tiptoe over the cattle stop as she tried not to get her heels stuck between the gaps. She didn’t want to think about what might be caking the soles of her brand-new shoes. Gunk she’d have to scrape off before getting back in the car, should they manage to get the wreck to go. A kind man, the farmer gave them a can of petrol and sent them on their way. Sal held her breath as they drove back to town. There really was something nasty caked to the bottom of her shoes. That first date was a clue that she should have run. Hemi was cheap and nasty. 

After the car died, Hemi bought a motorbike, and deliberately rode through the main streets of their small home town at warp speed showing off and doing wheel stands to get attention. His bad boy image which had initially attracted her soon changed to annoyance. It was like the guy could never get enough attention, he craved it. He always wanted to be on everyone’s radar and it didn’t matter if it was the police radar. Hemi was all bravado and as shallow as a saucer. He was an arse. It was a blessing when it ended, and he moved away. Naturally, he didn’t leave without causing drama, going quietly wasn’t his style. Yeah, Hemi was her first major mistake and one of the main reasons for her commitment phobia.