Page 117 of Arranged Obsession
“It’s hard not to.”
“Good. Now come on.” She takes my hand and tugs me from the shrine room. “Let’s go discuss this baby thing more.”
“What’s there to say? I come inside of you until you get pregnant. Pretty simple.”
She glares at me. “I was thinking more along the lines of names, getting clothes, buying and reading books, that sort of stuff.”
“Oh. Right.” I shrug, grinning. “I was just thinking sex.”
“As usual.”
Epilogue: Bianca
Jessica turns to face me, an enormous grin on her face. “Well? What do you think?”
I look around at the empty building and try to imagine it filled with people. Over there are individual rooms for women with children and families. Over there are bunks and shared spaces for single women staying temporarily. Counseling there, food and kitchen there, rec and entertainment there. A corner for our offices and administrative stuff.
I walk slowly around. I can almost hear the voices, the laughter, the crying, the pain and anguish, and the hope. Always hope. That’s the whole point of places like this.
Without hope, what’s the point?
“It’s good,” I say softly, smiling to myself. “What did it used to be?”
“Offices, I think.” Jessica shrugs and checks her notes. “Price is right where we want it to be. Location isn’t perfect, but there’s access to public transportation, and I think the neighbors won’t be a problem.”
“There’s a park nearby.”
Her eyebrows raise. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Grace House was near a park. Sometimes the women would go there, maybe sit alone on benches or take their kids if they had children with them.”
“Huh. I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Parks are good. Cheap food too. There’s a diner on the corner and a bodega over there.” I gesture vaguely toward our left.
“You know your stuff, huh?” Jessica lowers her clipboard, studying me. “Sounds like you don’t even need my help.”
“I know some stuff. But everything else?” I shrug and point toward all her notes. “That’s why you’re around.”
We wander the space for a little longer. Jessica rattles off a list of updates we’ll have to make. Plumbing, electrical, all the basics to turn it from a workspace into a living space. “Plus permits and all that. The permits alone are going to be a massive headache.”
“Don’t worry about those,” I say, waving her concern away.
“Are you sure? My understanding is a project like this can take years to get through committee.”
“Trust me, we’ll breeze through. I know some people.” I don’t tell her that my brother is the Don of an Italian Famiglia, my husband a high-ranking member of an Irish crime clan, and they’re allied with a powerful Russian Bratva. The little triumvirate of crime has been doing very well lately, and I suspect their combined weight will make sure we get anything we need.
“Then it seems like we’re in good shape.” Jessica laughs lightly, fixing her hair. “You know, when you first hired me, I thought this was going to take years before we actually opened. But here we are just a few months later, and we’re already touring physical space.”
“I know what you mean. But honestly, we can’t get this open soon enough.”
“By the way, did you land on a name yet? I know you were leaning toward Second Chances.”
I pause to brush my fingers down a support beam. I wonder how many women will stand right here in this spot in the years to come. How many lives we’ll help?
“I was thinking I’d call it Elena’s Second Chances. I know it’s a bit long, but it’s important to me.”
“Elena’s works.” Jessica jots the name down. She’s very familiar with her predecessor and what happened. The story in the media is that the car malfunctioned and catastrophically exploded. I’m not sure anyone really believes it. Jessica hasn’t asked.
