First Day
SADIE
“What is he, some kind of pervert or something?” Momma asks.
With a critical look, she takes a drag off her vape and surveys me as I pack my bags.
“I wish you’d use those nicotine patches I got you,” I tell her. “And I have no clue whether he’s a pervert or not, but it’s none of my concern.”
“What kind of man hires a pretty young thing to come live in his house? Not one with pure intentions, I’ll tell you that.”
“Momma, he doesn’t even like me. And the feeling’s mutual. He only hired me because I get along with his son, and that’s the only reason I’m taking this job.”
She snorts. “You’re gonna be cooking and cleaning for this man, taking care of his kid. Only a matter of time before he starts asking for extra services, special just for Daddy. Men with money assume everything’s for sale.“
“Momma!” I sigh with exasperation. “There’s no nanny-to-prostitute pipeline, all right? He’s not gonna ask for extras, and I’m not gonna offer. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a creep.”
“Maybe he won’t mean it to happen, but wires are gonna get crossed in that brain of his. Men are simpletons. You act like his little wifey all over the house, he’s gonna want wifey in his bed, too.”
My cheeks heat at the thought of being in Walker Rhodes’ bed. Playing wifey.
“Not gonna happen,” I assure her.
I get a flinty-eyed stare in return. My own blue eyes, but harder and untrusting, staring right back at me.
“He tries anything with you,” she says, “you come right back here.”
I appreciate her concern, I truly do, but the idea of living here for three more months is a nightmare. The smell of cigarettes and vape smoke, the mess I can barely keep under control, the TV blaring the most obnoxious shows at all hours… I can’t do it.
I touch her shoulder. “I’ll be fine, Momma,” is all I say.
It doesn’t take me long to pack. I have my clothes and accessories, my swimsuits and goggles. My favorite books and my notepads filled with my poetry neatly stacked next to my toiletries all sealed up in water-tight containers. Nothing fancy. It’s enough to fill a single suitcase.
My life is small. It always has been. But I’ve got a big adventure ahead of me, come autumn.
Heaving the suitcase in, just barely, I close the trunk of my car with a firm thud.
I give Momma a hug. “I’ll be back to visit.” Check on her, more like, but I don’t say that. “I put all your medications in that pill dispenser. It’s labeled day by day so it’s easy. You haveany trouble with that dialysis machine, you call me, day or night.”
She waves me off the way she always does when I'm taking care of her. The way that means she's grateful and doesn't know how to say it.
“Quit fussing,” she tells me. “Go get that coin and keep your legs closed. Pretend like there’s an aspirin between your knees.”
I huff at her. “Momma! This isn’t the nineteen-fifties.”
“Times change. Men don’t.”
I sigh. I don’t blame Momma for being a cynic. When your husband steals your wedding ring and pawns it off to pay for him and his mistress to have a good time at the blackjack tables, it puts a chip on your shoulder.
I wouldn’t call myself a hardened cynic like her, though. More like a very cautious romantic. One who knows exactly what she wants, has read about it in about ten thousand books, and has yet to find it in an actual living man.
And my legs are staying closed until I find it.
Which definitely won’t be under Walker Rhodes’s roof.
As I close the driver’s side door and roll down the window, she comes up to the car. “I mean it, Sadie. Don’t go falling in love with this man. He’s rich and famous. You’ll only ever be a plaything to him.”
I press my lips together. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Momma.”
