Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to wait up,” Grace says, covering my hand with hers. “I’m your dear old mom. No one’s going to kidnap me.”
I sputter a bit.
“No, it’s not kidnapping,” I say. “I’m just worried. You work so hard to put food on the table and I feel so bad that I don’t contribute –”
My mom holds one hand up, cutting me off.
“I don’t want you to contribute Maddy. I don’t want you to be like me, working from the age of twelve and barely graduating from high school. I want you to have a real future, where you go to college and get a professional job. Where you don’t use your body to make money,” she says, smiling sadly.
I protest.
“You’re not really using your body. You’re not taking off your clothes or letting men touch you or anything like that,” I say quickly.
But Grace merely shrugs.
“I’m not, but sometimes I feel like I am. There’s a fine line between being a showgirl and being a stripper. But on another note, how are those college applications going?” she asks, sitting up straight. “Have you gotten your essay written? How about your letters of recommendation? I’m sure my baby will get into all the best schools. Imagine it: Madeline Mitchell, summa cum laude graduate!”
I smile with her, but then my look turns serious.
“Mom, everything is fine with me, and all my college apps are on track. But what about you? You’re sick, right? Why don’t you go to the doctor tomorrow? You have tomorrow off, and I have time. I can drive you,” I say encouragingly.
But Grace looks down then, her lips trembling a bit.
“Mom, what is it?” I ask, my spidey sense going off like a five-alarm bell. “What’s wrong?”
My mom takes a deep breath and for the first time, I notice a faint gray pallor to her face.
“Maddy, we should try not to go to the doctor too much. We should save those visits only for emergencies,” she says quietly, although her voice wavers just a bit.
I nod.
“Of course, I know we have that thirty-dollar co-pay every time we go. But you are sick, Mom. You need to see the doctor because that cough’s been getting worse over the last week, and not better. You’re not improving.”
But my mom merely shakes her head again, still looking at the floor.
“Honey, we shouldn’t go to the doctor unless it’s an absolute emergency because I lost my job today. Evidently, I’m too old to be a showgirl at Le Palms now. I guess being in your fourth decade is a little over the hill for this kind of job,” she says with a small, sad twist to her smile.
I stare at my mom, my mouth open in shock.
“But you look great Mom! Who said that? Was it Mr. Crocker, who manages the show? Or the woman who choreographs your routines? Oh, I know. It was that bitchy costume assistant right? The one who’s always dropping hints about dieting and laxatives.”
My mom shakes her head in defeat.
“No, it wasn’t any of them. Supposedly, word came from Cameron Savage himself, owner of Le Palms. He thinks I’m too old to perform for his guests.”
My back jerks ramrod straight in outrage.
“What the hell? This is age discrimination! I’m going to file something with the EEOC or whatever it’s called. This is total bullshit, and Le Palms isn’t going to get away with it.”
My mom puts a gentle hand on my arm, and her sad eyes break my heart.
“No, Maddy. You’ll just make more trouble for us if you report Mr. Savage. Besides, they’ve offered me my old job in the hotel laundry again, so it’s not the end of the world. I’ll still get paid, and there are some benefits attached to that position, provided I work a minimum of thirty hours a week.”
I open my mouth but then it snaps shut. My sense of outrage is still strong, but my sense of sadness is overwhelming. My mom looks defeated as she sits in the recliner with her slumped shoulders. Her hair, under the harsh light of the lamp, has been dyed platinum blonde but it’s also showing tell-tale strands of silver now. Her make-up looks garish, and her cheeks are beginning to sink in on themselves with age. In short, Le Palms has taken my mother’s best years and then spit her out like she’s worth nothing now that she can’t produce.
I manage a tight smile.
“Everything’s going to be fine, Grace. Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out. They can’t just use you like this, and then toss you away once you’ve lost your looks. Besides, you’re still beautiful and you’re probably the best dancer they have.”
The older woman smiles wearily at me.
“You’re so kind, sugar, and I know we’ll get by no matter what happens. Remember, it’s you and me against the world, right Maddy? I love you, my sweet girl.”