“In case you change your mind,” he said and nodded at the empty shelves and hanging space.
I ignored him and went back downstairs to get my suitcases. Or rather, I supervised while David carried all my possessions to one of his guestrooms. I didn’t care which one I stayed in, so when he asked where to put my stuff I just pointed to the room on the left that was closest to the staircase and farthest away from his room.
“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” David said and left me to unpack.
The thought of getting all my stuff out made me nauseous and instead of unpacking, I crawled under the cream comforter and pulled it over my head. Sleep sounded like a great idea.
The ringing of my phone woke me from a disturbing dream that included hairy aliens and a tennis match. I fumbled for my bag that I’d dropped on the nightstand. Before I managed to get my phone out, it stopped ringing but started up again.
I finally found the phone and saw it was Willa who was calling. Fucking finally.
“It’s about time you called me back,” I greeted her.
“Are you okay? What happened? Did Mason do something? I told him he wasn’t allowed to upset you or he would be banned from Sweet Dreams. And Jameson talked to him as well. Why are we having a code red? Are you dying? Did you finally find out what that weird spot on your arm was?”
“The spot on my arm is a birthmark, so no, I’m not going to die from it. And I don’t think Mason took your threat seriously. He fired me.”
“He did what?” Willa yelled. “How? What? When? I don’t understand. How? No, start with when. No, wait, tell me what he said first.”
“He said that I was fired. And it happened yesterday. And I really need you to listen to what I have to say and let me finish before you freak out.”
“That doesn’t sound like something I want to do. Should I get Jameson? I’m going to get Jameson.”
She left to get Jameson while I waited and wondered if I should tell her the whole story.
“Okay, we’re back and you’re on speaker.”
I groaned but made the decision to just tell her what I had done. Kind of like ripping off a Band-Aid. At least she wasn’t close enough to lock me in her bedroom until I saw reason. Something she’d done to Maisie last year when she refused to apply for a special design program. It ended with a four-hour long standoff and an application.
“Okay, so just remember to not freak out. Maybe start deep breathing now. Better to get a head start on the right technique.”
“I don’t like this, Estrella. I don’t think you should tell me yet. Maybe don’t do whatever you want to do until I come back. It’s only a few more weeks.”
“It’s already too late for that. I signed a contract that I intend to honor. And besides, there’s a penalty for not honoring my end of the deal, so after you hear me out and still want to talk me out of this, save your breath. It’s a done deal.”
“Stop. I changed my mind. I’m coming back today, and then you tell me.”
“No you’re not. You’re finally doing something for yourself. I’m fine. Things here are fine. Just let me tell you what’s going on. It’s not that bad. At least if you consider the alternatives.”
“Are we talking Vegas bad or missing satellite dish bad?”
“Vegas bad with a few damaged satellite dishes.”
I heard a squeaky inhale but knew that I had to tell her or Willa was going to faint.
“Okay so you know how I moved out of my family’s house six months ago?”
I had already lived with Maisie during the semester but my mother insisted I come back once I graduated. I had no direction and felt lost, so I gave in, thinking now that I had had a taste of freedom I could handle her emotional manipulation. I moved out again two weeks later and she had been trying to guilt me into moving back home ever since, the final move her misguided kidnapping attempt.
“My mother finally lost her patience and wanted me to move back home,” I continued explaining how I got myself into my current predicament.
“Back up the truck, is this why you got attacked? Nora said it was a burglary. You dirty liars. You lied to me and told me some lame-ass story about a robbery.”
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Didn’t want me to worry? I was already worried and now you’re telling me that your mother was trying to kidnap you?” her voice was in a high pitch and the yelling would soon follow.
“Not exactly. She just used someone else to persuade me to come home. No kidnapping happened,” I tried to calm her down.
