Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26677 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26677 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
I swallow.
“How long?”
Elsa waves her hand airily.
“Maybe a year or two.”
I go utterly still.
“Okay. So would you say you’re still dating?”
Elsa shrugs, her bony shoulders like blades.
“Probably not,” she acknowledges. “And it’s likely why he wants to kick us out now, because he’s not getting that physical satisfaction he’s come to expect.”
I stare.
“But still, it’s been two years since you were last together, physically at least. So what’s gotten his goat now?”
Elsa shrugs.
“I don’t know, but he told me about the eviction last night. You know how I said I had to run to the store for some detergent? Well, I didn’t go, actually. I went over to the big house, and Mason spoke with me then.”
My form sags as these revelations run through my mind. Holy cow, my mom was sleeping with a man in lieu of rent money? Again, I suppose that’s not so weird if they were in a relationship, but now, it turns out that Elsa and Mason Richards haven’t been together for a long time, and that he wants us out too.
Despair floods my chest because this couldn’t come at a worse time. I’m pregnant and unemployed at the moment, and totally dependent on Elsa for food and lodging. Of course, I have savings from my time as a call girl, but still, this isn’t ideal.
“Don’t worry,” my mom says in a wan voice. “I’ve been a secretary for ages, and I have a long work history and stellar recommendations. We just need some time to look for a new place, and I’m sure we’ll find it. There are lots of apartments in New Jersey.”
I stare at Elsa.
“Yes, but New Jersey is expensive, Mom,” I say in a brittle tone. “I’m not working at the moment, and not only that, but your salary as a secretary isn’t exactly huge. How are we going to make forty times rent on a place as nice as this?”
Elsa takes a deep breath before looking me in the eye.
“We can’t,” she states in a somber voice. “We’ll have to downgrade our living situation, but it’s fine, honey. Remember when you were little, and we shared a one-bedroom? It was okay, right? It was the two of us against the world, with you sleeping on the pull-out couch. We were as comfy as two bugs snug in a rug.”
I nod as tears prick my eyes because obviously, “snug” is a euphemism. It’s more that my mom and I were crammed like sardines into rickety living spaces with water stains on the ceiling and lead paint all over the walls. But I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
“We can definitely downgrade, but Mom, there’s going to be three of us soon. How will we manage when the baby comes?”
It’s then that Elsa takes a deep breath. There’s a conflicted look on her face, and her hand trembles as she seizes mine.
“I’m not sure, and I’m not even certain I should bring this up with you, but you agree that we’re in dire circumstances, right?”
I nod as tears spring to my eyes.
“I don’t want to go back to my childhood, Mom,” I say in a soft voice. “We lived in shoeboxes back then, Elsa, and I’d like to raise my baby in nicer surroundings.”
My mother nods.
“Well actually, there is another way,” she begins in a tentative voice. “Mr. Richards has offered us a new deal. Kind of an alternative deal, but it’s contingent on your acceptance.”
My shoulders droop because obviously this isn’t going to be good. But I force myself to nod because we have no options at the moment, and beggars can’t be choosers.
“What is it?”
Elsa takes a deep breath.
“Well, Mr. Richards offered to let us stay if you let him have free use of your body, honey. Instead of sleeping with me, he wants to sleep with you.”
I’m silent for a few moments as I stare at my mom with shock.
“Excuse me?” I sputter. “Are you joking? Is this some kind of sick prank?”
I’m literally trying to figure out whether I heard my mom correctly or not, and half-expecting her to wink and say it was just a joke. But nothing like that happens. Instead, Elsa nods slowly.
“Yes. Mr. Richards has made us a contingent offer,” she says in a slow tone. “Contingent upon your acceptance, of course.”
“What…?” I whisper-yell, my eyes wide. “But I’m pregnant! Does he know that? How does he even know me, to begin with? We’ve never met.”
Elsa shrugs helplessly.
“I told him before you arrived that you were moving in. And maybe he’s seen you around,” she offers.
I stare.
“But we’ve never spoken face to face!”
My mom nods.
“Well, I’m not sure then,” she hedges. “My guess is that he’s seen you gardening from the big house? You know you’re outside almost every afternoon.”
I go limp on the bed because my sixth sense today was accurate. There was someone watching me, and it was Mr. Richards all along. Plus, somehow I know that it wasn’t the first time he’s watched me from the window. He’s done it many times in the past, and I’m wondering if he’s some type of sick creep now.