I wish I had been strong enough to do what I did a long time ago, maybe Mama would still be alive. I often wonder what it would’ve been like to live life with her and without him.
It’s early summer and the warm breeze is blowing softly. I’m standing on a ladder leaned against the shed behind the house painting the trim while Mama’s Chicago CD plays on the radio.
The sun shines brightly without a cloud in the sky. I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day. I often fantasize on what life would be like if every day could be this nice.
We had macaroni and stewed tomatoes for lunch. Mine—and mom’s—favorite comfort food. She only makes it for the two of us. Daddy hates tomatoes. One of my best childhood memories is canning tomatoes with Mama. It’s a tradition I look forward to every summer and will continue to do when I’m all grown up.
Mama is sitting next to me with some bags of dirt, potting daisies—her favorite flowers. Daddy’s been gone for a few days on one of his benders, leaving me able to spend some quality time with her.
“I think you’re going to love it when we are all done. I’ve got new furniture on order, and when it comes in, we can move the old stuff out here so you can have your own space to study or read one of your books.” She looks up and me and smiles.
She told me it was so I could have some independence, but I know it’s her way of helping me get away from Daddy when she’s at work. Out of sight, out of mind.
I wish I could live that day all over again.
Mama loved crafting and decorating. Every Christmas she hand-painted me a new ornament and one year painted me a Snoopy sweatshirt. For a while, she tried her hand at making stained glass suncatchers, picture frames, and even a lamp.
She could sew, crochet, knit, and paint. She could also sing, play guitar, and always wanted to learn to play the piano. There was no limit to her talent and creativity. That gene must’ve skipped me. I’m about as crafty as a carboard box with the same amount of musical talent.
She worked on crafts in secret when Daddy was gone. The shed was a project we never finished because on July 6ththat same year, she took her last breath.
Daddy burned the shed down when he burned the rest of her things. He kept the old furniture and returned the new stuff for a refund that he used on drugs instead of a funeral for her.
“Girl, you’ve got to try this on! It would be so cute on you!” Sasha hands me a hot pink bikini with a matching mesh cover, interrupting my thoughts.
She’s been overly friendly like she’s trying too hard. I’m not sure what’s worse, that or the icy stares she gave me in Sapphire.
I hold it up examining the thin material. “I think I’ve got enough to get me started.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. A girl can never have enough clothes and shoes.” She hands me a matching pair of hot pink stilettos. These, I like.
“Don’t you think Nick is going to shit a brick when he sees his credit card bill?” Annoyance fills her face. I think she’d rather do anything but mention Nick is the one doing this for me and not her.
“Don’t worry, he can afford it. You should see the things he gives me his card for. I bring his lunch every day, make sure his office is stocked with all his favorite whiskeys, he buys me fresh flowers every week for my desk. I pick upallhis custom-tailored suits.” She runs her hands down the length of her body. “This is just a small expense compared to the clothing and jewelry allowance he gives me to go to functions with him.”
Of course she does all that. I wonder how many times a day she drops to her knees for him.
After leaving the exotic clothing store, I’m in a bad mood and my confidence is even worse than it was. Sasha got a few things for herself, and of course, with her curves and fake boobs, she filled everything out in all the right places. My form’s drastically improved over the last few months, but I’m still on the smaller side. I wish I had her long legs and height.
She couldn’t help but rub in what Nick does for her every chance she had.I get it, Sasha, you’re the favorite, now shut the fuck up. I rolled my eyes so hard at her on so many occasions I saw my own brain.
Memories of my mom cross my mind every day, most days are better than others but today is not one of them. I just want to lay in my bed and be left the fuck alone, but I can’t. Ispent all morning shopping, I have to spend the afternoon with Sasha at Sapphire leaning how to dance on a chair and pole, then I have self-defense training with Lucas this evening.
I barely have enough time in the evening to shower and catch up on my schoolwork. I’m doing great and maintaining an A in both my classes, surprisingly.
“Let’s get some lattes and chicken salad sammies before we hit Sapphire. I’m famished.” Sasha feigns a fake fainting spell. Who knows who or what she was out all night doing.
“Sounds good,” I mumble, staring out of the window. Honestly, I’m not very hungry, and my stomach is cramping, signaling my incoming period. They’ve been coming more regularly since I’ve been eating properly. I should be starting in a couple days. Yay me.
“Lighten up, would you, you’ve gotten so many new cute outfits and shoes, you should be elated.”
Slut clothes, Sasha. I have new slut clothes that barely cover me.
I’m not shy or modest, and I’m damn sure not going to shame another woman who chooses to wear these things, they just don’t look good on me. I’m not pretty. This isn’t going to work and they’re going to fire me because no man is going to want me to perform for him. I should tell Nick I quit and have him let Sasha take my place instead.
I’m going to drown in the endless spiral of negative thoughts. My phone pings. Speak of the devil…but when I look down the text isn’t from Nick, it’s from Marcus.
11:54 a.m. - Hey beautiful. I just got back into town. Wanna grab some lunch?
