Page 45 of Soft Tissue Damage
I feel a blaze of agonized shame. Of course Mr. Grant isn’t looking at my mouth. Turning away quickly, I head for the door. “I’ll just go. I want to be home.”
He reaches out and seizes my wrist. “Elena. If you won’t stay, I’ll order a car for you. It’s not safe for you to be out alone by yourself at night.”
Wordlessly, I nod.
Five minutes later, a car pulls up. As I say goodbye to him, I can’t look him in the eye. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more wretched in my life.
“Here you go.It’s twice what I normally pay.”
Aunt Astrid, Aunt Frieda, and I are sitting around the kitchen table in the house I used to call home. Aunt Astrid pulls crisp bills out of the envelope I’ve handed over instead of the usual crumpled ones, and I feel my blood boil as I watch her count it.
It’s been three days since I found out that Leon has been cheating on me. I’ve been holding it together at the diner, but I haven’t heard from my boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—and I feel in a sort of limbo. It feels like we’re broken up, but nothing’s been said between us since he called me frigid.
I haven’t seen Mr. Grant since I tried to kiss him. He has called me twice, but I haven’t found the courage to speak to him. Every time I remember that moment when my eyes closed, practically begging for his lips, I want to burst into flames and disintegrate. Leon didn’t want me because I wasn’t enough for him. Mr. Grant no doubt thinks I’m repellant for trying to kiss him. I threw myself at both father and son. Whodoesthat? My skin heats uncomfortably and I shift around in my seat.
I suspect Cullan is only calling me so he can fire me. There’s an ache in my throat as I imagine never seeing Rosie again. I was starting to get attached to her, and I think she liked me too. As a babysitter, you’re not supposed to get attached, but she was just too adorable. She’s lovedso much, and I can’t help being drawn to all that love, and loving her as well.
Aunt Astrid looks up at me with a hard, suspicious gleam in her eye. “Elena, where did you get this money?”
I wasn’t expecting such a negative reaction.
“Working,” I say, my confidence slipping away. I thought they’d be pleased with the double payment. I thought for once they’d smile at me and tell me they were proud of me.
Aunt Frieda takes a sip of her tea. “New shoes. Did you notice, Astrid?”
“Oh, I noticed,” Aunt Astrid replies darkly as if they’re discussing something sinister.
“I’ve been working a second job that pays well. Paid well,” I correct myself. I doubt I’ll ever receive any more work from Mr. Grant. Yesterday I bought myself new sneakers for work. Not branded ones. Cheap ones, but comfortable.
“Oh, have you?” Aunt Astrid asks with an edge to her voice. She brandishes the money. “This amount is easy for you to pay?”
“Well, it was this week,” I reply, suspecting this is a trap. “But I don’t know if I—”
“Then next week you can double it,” Aunt Astrid says. “If you’ve doubled it once, you can double it again.”
“What?” I gasp, sitting forward. “Why?”
Aunt Frieda’s eyes gleam as though she’s impressed by her sister’s demand.
“You’d only waste the money if you kept it,” Aunt Frieda says.
“Yes, you can pay us twice as much if this is soeasyfor you,” adds Aunt Astrid.
“But I’m putting what’s leftover in the bank. I’m nearly twenty-one and I have no savings.” The fear that I’m falling far behind my peers in terms of life milestones has grown stronger the past few days. Leon’s presence in my life was masking a lot of those fears because I could tell myself that at least I had a boyfriend.
Aunt Frieda leans forward. “So you don’t want to meet your mother? Is that what you’re saying?”
I feel like she’s slapped me across the face.
Next to me on the table is a porcelain vase shaped like the lamp I used against my attacker in Fenton. I fantasize about picking it up and smashing it over my aunts’ greedy heads. If only violence would solve this problem as well.
I stare into my dull gray tea while they berate me for my laziness, ingratitude, and irresponsibility. They pester me about whether I’ve been chaste like I promised, and my face betrays me by turning red.
Aunt Astrid and Aunt Frieda exchange scandalized glances and shake their heads, but their eyes are wide and bright as though they delight in finding me disgusting and salacious.
I leave their house feeling weighed down with misery and self-loathing. Every day is a chance to prove that I deserve more than their bitter, miserly love, and every day I fail.
I want to go straight to bed when I get home, but as I step out of the elevator, my feet squelch in wet carpet. Water is pouring from beneath my apartment door and flooding the hallway. I stare at this incomprehensible sight for a moment before digging out my key and unlocking my door.
