by Loy Holder
“Then you’re not mad at me?” Liz studied Lucille’s face.
“Hell, no, and if December comes and you need help, I’m here for you.” Lucille picked up another cookie. “By the way, what ever happened to Bill? I thought you and he were getting together.”
Liz’s stomach clenched at the question. “Right now, I need to study and chase kids around. I don’t really have time for a man.” Oh God. I can’t go there. It’s too painful. She bit her lip and hoped Lucille would let the subject drop.
Lucille accepted her answer at face value. She took out her compact and touched up her lipstick. “I guess I better get going so you can finish your folding and study, study, study.”
They hugged goodbye, and Lucille got into her car and drove away. Damn, that went well. Better than I’d hoped.
For the next two months, studying was Liz’s priority, and she put in several hours a day. However, she took a day off in mid-June for Regina’s fourth birthday. At the end of the day, she remembered that her divorce was final. I’m glad I’m no longer legally tied to Ron, but I’ll never forget the misery of being his wife.
She also attended a month-long real-estate class in July, no easy feat since she had to drive clear into Sacramento every day. The class was tough, and it was obvious from her class-test results that she needed more study in estimating home values and writing up listings.
Liz was overwhelmed with meeting her children’s needs and trying to study the complex principles of selling real estate. But dancing was even tougher. Each night reminded her of Bill. He hadn’t called or come to the Jet, and she missed him; his body, his smell, the taste of his skin, his touch, and that devilish grin. His absence caused an ache that became her constant companion.
To compensate, Liz studied even harder, played with her children more, cleaned house less, and managed to survive one day at a time. In late July, she was ready, and she took her real-estate exam.
Her last weekend at the Stardust was quiet. She spent most of the time coaching the new dancer and watching her perform. Bud caught up with her Sunday before she went on stage, and he told her to quit early and come see him in his office about eleven.
When Liz walked through Bud’s door, he scrambled to his feet to give her a hug. “So sit,” he said, and he settled into his own chair and leaned forward. “Now, tell me how things turned out with Bill.”
“I haven’t heard from him.” She winced at the pain those words caused. “I’ve been busy, and that’s helped.”
Bud frowned as if he wanted to press for more information, but he changed the subject instead. “OK, so how’s the real estate going?”
She was grateful not to discuss Bill. “I took the exam a few days ago, but I don’t have my results yet.”
“I’d be willing to bet you aced it. You’ll have to call me and let me know how you did.”
Liz eased out of the chair and gathered her things. “I will.”
“Wait a minute.” Bud came from behind his desk and handed her a fifteen-hundred-dollar check. “I want you to have this just in case you run into problems, and call me if you get in a jam, OK? Can I have a goodbye hug?” His smile was sad as he opened his arms.
Liz took the check and gave him a long hug. “You didn’t have to do this. Thanks for being so kind to me.”
“Call me once in a while to let me know how you’re doing.”
She assured him she would be fine, and as she walked out of his office, she heard him shout, “I’m sure you will.”
The test results came in the mail the following Wednesday. She tore open the envelope and squealed. Not only had she passed, but she’d received a score of 97 percent. Since the kids were outside, she jumped up and down and screamed at the wall, “Life is gonna get better!” She just had to call Charlie. She dialed the number and tapped her foot while the secretary put the call through.
“Hi. You have good news for me?”
“I’m ecstatic. I got a ninety-seven. Can I come in tomorrow?”
“You bet. Everything’s ready for you.”
Next, Liz called Josie. When she answered, Liz was grinning from ear to ear.
“Hi Josie, guess what. I passed my test.”
“Congratulations. You’ve worked so hard.”
“Thanks.” Liz was still excited, and her words tumbled through the phone line like an avalanche. “Can you watch the kids this afternoon? I need to go to the real-estate board and pick up my license, and I want to go shopping for some new work clothes.”
Josie roared with laughter. “Whoa, you’re talking so fast. You want me to watch the kids this afternoon? And is this your last night to work at the Jet?”
“Yes to both questions. Lucille is throwing a little goodbye party for me tonight.”
“OK. Just bring the kids over now with their things, and you can go shopping and then on to work. Frank and I will take them to a movie.”
“Great, Josie. Thanks. I’ll see you in about a half hour.”
Liz waited patiently while the receptionist at the real-estate board found her file. Liz paid her license fee, and the receptionist handed the license to her. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” Liz admired the piece of paper in her hand. “I worked hard for this.”
The woman smiled. “I like your enthusiasm. It looks like your hard work paid off. Here, you might need this.” The receptionist handed her an envelope.
“Thanks again.” Liz placed the coveted piece of paper into the envelope and walked to her car. Now to do some shopping.
Wanted to save money, she went to her favorite Veterans Thrift store. It was her lucky day. She found an aqua and black checkered suit for $3.50. She tried it on, and it fit perfectly. Then she went to Weinstock’s and splurged on a new pair of black pumps and a matching bag. Finally, she bought some new underwear and pantyhose and headed home with her treasures.
She drove to her last night of dancing with mixed feelings: exhilaration at starting a new life, tempered by the chronic ache of missing Bill, and nostalgia because she knew she would miss the attention she got from dancing on that stage.
The last two months, she’d spent less time dancing and more time coaching Danielle, and it showed. Danielle drew a bigger crowd and not just because she danced topless. She was good. When Liz walked through the door that night, there was standing room only. Yep, she’s got that knee movement down, and look at those hips sway. And those tassels on her breasts keep perfect time with the beat. How does she do that?
At seven, Lucille arrived with a cake. She gathered all the customers, Sam, Danielle, Gail, and Liz together in front of the bar and made a touching farewell speech, shedding a few tears as she spoke. She motioned for Liz to stand with her behind the bar, and she faced Liz. “I’m so thankful that even though you are leaving the Jet, we’ll still be friends. To show my appreciation for your loyalty and hard work, here is a little something to bolster your savings account.” She handed Liz an envelope.
Liz bit her lip and stared at her friend. A tear made its way down her cheek as she reached for the envelope. When she opened it, there was a check inside for one thousand dollars. “Lucille, I don’t know what to say. Thank you for being such a good friend.” Liz managed a smile and reached across the bar for a napkin to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “You are not just a friend. I consider you family.” She hugged Lucille, and then glanced over the bar at the crowd of happy faces. “Come on everyone, help yourselves to some cake and the next round is on me.” Her words were met with a roar of appreciation.
After lingering to say goodbye to some of her customers, Liz hugged Sam, Lucille, and Danielle, gathered her things from the kitchen, and walked out the door early. It was only ten. She hadn’t bothered to change from her dance costume because the air outside was hot and still. After walking a short way through the parking lot, she turned toward the Jet entrance for the last time. At that moment, she felt positive, with no regrets. I’m ready for something new. Maybe then, Bill’s memory will
fade.
The next morning, Liz awoke full of energy. She fixed breakfast early and called the children to come eat. Ronnie poured syrup over his pancakes, eyed his mother, and frowned. “Why are you dressed up, Mom?”
Regina sat staring at her mother. “Yeah, Mommy. Why you got those high heels on?”
“Remember when we talked about me studying? Well, I passed my test, and I start selling houses this morning. Josie will come over in a little while to watch you, and I will be home with you tonight. I’m very happy about that. What do you think?”
“I’m glad, Mom. Can we have a special dinner to celebrate?” Ronnie was grinning from ear to ear.
“Sure we can, sweetie.”
“And will you read us a story tonight?”
“Yes, Regina. I’ll even read two stories.”
* * *
Chapter forty
In September, Liz took the children to their final counseling appointment. Within five minutes the nurse called them in. The children were accustomed to the room. They ran to their child-size seats at the coloring table, and Liz took a soft chair nearby. When Dr. Russo came in, he smiled at the children and took another seat close to the coloring table. “Hello, Ronnie and Regina. So Ronnie, how do you like kindergarten so far?”
Ronnie looked up and answered, “It’s so fun, and I even get homework.”
“What kind of homework?”
Ronnie smiled and puffed out his chest. “On the letters of the alphabet. I got an A-plus on my alphabet paper.”
“That’s good, Ronnie.”
“And sometimes we have to draw pictures like of our favorite animal or place. “
“What is your favorite place?”
Ronnie’s eyes sparkled. “My room.”
Dr. Russo turned to Regina. She was fully engrossed in coloring a cat, so Dr. Russo gently touched her hand to get her attention. “Regina.” He waited until she smiled at him. “How do you like nursery school?”
“I missed my brother, but now Rosemary is my friend, and I like it.”
“So what do you like about nursery school besides Rosemary?”
“I like snack time and singing songs and playing outside.”
“OK, that’s good.” Both children went back to coloring, and Dr. Russo turned to Liz. “I’ll have Mary come stay with the children in here so they can continue coloring. Why don’t you join me down the hall?”
After Liz and the doctor were seated in his office, he said, “Well, how do you feel about this being your last visit? Do you think the children are doing well enough, or do they need a little more time?”
She shook her head and smiled. “No, they seem to be doing much better. I’ve had several talks with them about my new job and how I’ll be able to spend more time with them, and Ronnie seems to have gotten over his anger with his father. He even asked if I would take him to see his dad sometime. That surprised me. What do you think about doing that?”
“Are you ready for that? It might be too soon for you, and you’d have to go with him. I’d wait until more time has passed, maybe when he’s a little older.”
Liz frowned. “Yes, you’re right. I’m not ready for that at all.”
“And how are you doing otherwise?” Dr. Russo asked.
“Well, I’m enjoying my new work. I’ve already sold a house, and I have four listings. I’m keeping busy.…” Liz’s voice trailed off as she lowered her eyes to stare at her hands.
“Do you need an extra session or two? You don’t sound convincing.”
She didn’t want to pay for another session or tell the doctor about Bill. She looked up and managed a half-hearted smile. “No, I’m fine, just a little lonely, and besides, I can’t afford to pay for more sessions. My kids seem happier, and that’s good enough for me.”
“OK, but if you need to see me, just call.” Dr. Russo walked with Liz to gather the children. They said their good-byes, and Liz made her final payment to the receptionist and drove home.
Within her first week selling real estate, Liz collected a substantive list of interested buyers and sellers, a combination of leads Charlie gave her, and her own efforts. It was a seller’s market, but Liz wasn’t shy. Carl and Susan Moore wanted to sell their home in Rancho Cordova. It was one of the first leads Charlie had given her. Liz called, and Susan invited her over to see her house. When Liz arrived, she asked if she could look around. When she was finished, they gathered at the kitchen table, and Liz said, “This is a great house. Tell me what price you have in mind.”
Carl said, “Well, we’d like to get one hundred eighty thousand for it, so we can pay off the mortgage and have a down payment on a smaller house. What do you think?”
Liz smiled at Carl and then at Susan. “OK, but first can I ask you some financial questions?”
“Why?” Susan looked suspicious.
“Frankly, one hundred eighty thousand is a little high. Your answers will help me develop a better plan for you.
Carl said, “Well, we’re pretty set on one hundred eighty thousand, but let’s see what you got.”
Liz asked them about their income, how much they owed on their mortgage, major debt, and where they wanted to move. Based on their answers, she said, “OK, you’re a veteran, your income is great, you still owe ninety thousand dollars on your mortgage, your debt is low, and there are lots of smaller homes priced within your budget. So, here’s what I recommend. You lower your asking price to one hundred sixty-five thousand dollars, and that will leave you with plenty for a down payment on a smaller home. Or you could check into a VA loan and not have to make a down payment. You’d have plenty of money left over for any renovations or repairs on your next home. You might even be able to buy some new furniture or take a trip.”
Carl didn’t seem convinced. “Why should we lower the price?”
Liz was ready. She showed them her market trend and comparative sales data for their area. “As you can see, homes in this neighborhood with the same square footage as your house sold between one hundred sixty-two and one hundred sixty-five thousand. I’m recommending the high end because your home is so well maintained and you’ve made some improvements.”
Within a half hour, Liz was writing up the offer. Next, she put in long hours to find buyers for the home, including doing open houses, networking with other salespeople, and marketing the home in newspapers and local magazines. She sold the home within a month, found them a smaller home, and earned a long complimentary letter sent to Charlie with a copy to her.
Working with buyers was a little easier. Paul and Lucy Sinclair wanted a home in the new Land Park area. Liz took them to look at one that was priced at $225,000, the fair-market value for that area. They were in the home a long time, and when they came outside to talk to her, Lucy looked frustrated. “It has everything I want, plus the pool, but we just can’t afford it.”
Liz smiled and said, “I know it’s disappointing, but sadly, that’s what the homes around here sell for. Why don’t you meet me in my office later today, and I can show you some pictures of homes, close by, priced within your budget?”
The Sinclairs met with Liz later that afternoon, and they made an offer on a home, near Seventeenth Street and Caramay Way, just off Land Park Drive. It didn’t have a pool, but it had a basement, something they decided was more important. After they moved into their new home, they sent a letter to Charlie and a copy to Liz, thanking her for helping them.
Liz did a lot of things right from the very beginning. She picked up leads by going to sales meetings, networking, and doing some door-to-door canvassing. She hated the canvassing part, but sometimes it paid off.
Charlie called her into her office one day and said, “I’m hearing a lot of good things about you. I know you put in the hours, but what I’ve heard is that you gain the trust of your clients right away and you are perceptive. One of your clients said, “It’s almost like Liz could read my mind. It’s uncanny.” I know you did well on your book-learning, but some things can’t be taug
ht, like people skills. I just wanted to tell you, good job, and keep it up.”
Word of mouth kicked in and by Thanksgiving, Liz had banked eight thousand dollars in commissions. People were now calling on her to sell their houses or find them homes. She was feeling good except for that hidden compartment in her soul that felt empty from missing Bill. She’d caught the attention of several single hotshot salesmen, but she had no inclination to reciprocate with more than business conversation.
She’d been tempted to call Bill, but she couldn’t muster the courage to risk further rejection from him—or worse. So much time had passed. What if a woman answered? Instead, she steeled herself to keep a strict routine that distracted her from the pain throughout the day. During the night, though, Bill would appear in her dreams and steal her sleep.
Around the first of December, Liz had become the top salesperson in her office. Charlie opened another sales office in the Land Park area and promoted Liz to midtown sales manager. Liz hired some new salespeople and another secretary. She should have been happy and at peace, but she wasn’t. The holidays were definitely not a time to be alone.
Charlie came into her office. “Hey, we should celebrate.”
Liz looked up from her paperwork. “Why? What for?”
“Your promotion. Get your purse. It’s almost quitting time anyway.”
Liz made a quick call to Josie to say she might be late getting home, grabbed her things, and followed Charlie to Joe and Dodie’s Tavern on Folsom Boulevard.
The place was crowded, and the atmosphere inside reminded Liz of the Jet. It was dark inside, with candles lighting the booths. Liz saw a group of people just leaving, grabbed their table, and she and Charlie settled in.
While they were waiting to be served their drinks, Liz excused herself for a quick trip to the restroom. Inside, she used the toilet, washed her hands, and paused. She hated the woman in the mirror with the short-cropped blond hair plastered into place with hair spray, frown lines, and puffiness under the eyes. Why haven’t I noticed these changes in my looks before?