AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The man was naked?” Emme asks.
“No. I was!” Dorene lifts her glass in a toast. When she sees it’s empty she frowns and pours herself another.
“Soup’s ready,” I say. I glance at the clock. “Bread too.”
“Have I successfully ushered us into the post-awkward phase of your firing?” Dorene asks brightly.
“No,” my mom says. “I oughtta light your movie collection on fire and toss it out the window.”
“Yes,” I say, sending my mom a quelling glance. “It’s all right, Dorene. I understand. I would’ve done the same if I were you.”
“Good. What will you do now?” Dorene asks, setting the bowls on the table.
Emme has finished her watercolor. I take it and look at the shifting blues of the water and the vivid yellow sun shining on the orange sailboat. The paper is soggy, but the picture is lovely.
“I like it,” I tell her. I set it on the little makeshift drying rack at the end of the counter. Then I turn to Dorene. “I don’t know what I’ll do. I guess I’ll eat soup, then I’ll help do the dishes, then Emme and I will finish her science project, and then I’ll go to bed.”
Dorene lets out a disgruntled humph. “You forgot ‘drink all this wine and get drunk, casting slurs at the heartless boss who fired you.’”
“Sounds good to me,” my mom says, putting the round, golden artisan loaf on the table. The bread steams and lets out the perfect fresh-baked scent.
“Or we could cuss out that nasty Maximillian Barone,” Dorene says. “Did you know he threatened to call the police if I didn’t remove my overinflated ego from his residence immediately? He asked if I needed him to call a tow truck to help.”
I let out a snort and set my elbows on the table. Grinning, I ask, “Did you stand up for me?”
“Maybe,” she says. “Still fired you though.”
“What did you say?” I ask, trying to picture Max and Dorene going toe to toe.
She looks toward the ceiling, then a wide smile rolls over her face. “I said, ‘You probably put the necklace in her pocket so you could play poke the piggy.’”
“You didn’t,” my mom says, then she gets a considering look on her face. “Maybe he did. I heard he’s a womanizer.”
“He is not,” I say, pressing my hand to the center of my forehead.
Dorene winks, relishing her retelling. “ThenI told him I’d cleaned his place for ten years, and if he didn’t realize what a good thing he had—meaning me, naturally—he was an idiot.”
“Then what?” my mom asks.
Dorene takes another sip of wine. “He said, ‘Leave.’ I said, ‘Stop playing games and tell me you love me.’ He said, ‘You’re deluded.’ I said, ‘Stop flirting.’ He said, ‘You’re worse than the other one.’ I said, ‘So youdowant to take her on a date.’ That’s when he offered to call the tow truck.”
I let out a pained moan.
My mom pats my back. “They’re hiring for the night shift at work. The stockroom. I could put in a word?”
I nod. “Sure.”
“Can we talk about my science project now?” Emme asks, clearly done with the conversation.
“Of course,” I say. “Did you finish your poster? And did you find the perfect potato for your battery?”
My mom’s hand rubs a slow circle over my back.
“It’ll be okay,” she says quietly, and I know she’s thinking about how tight things are for us. How tight they always are. Fourteen years after he died, my mom’s still paying my dad’s medical bills. Eight years after he left, she’s still paying for Emmanuel’s bad decisions.
I pay my part of the rent, help with utilities and groceries. If my mom didn’t have my help, she and Emme wouldn’t even be able to afford our little post-war box.
In the morning I’ll find a new job. For all that Dorene jokes and makes light of the situation, I know she won’t bring me back on. Her trust is gone. She can’t afford to employ someone who might be a liability.
