“Okay, so if you won’t kill him, the least you could do is help me figure out how to get back at him. And give me some suggestions of what I can do to make money. I did a budget last night, and even if Dick continues to pay the mortgage, and I scrimp and scrape every dime, I have enough savings to pay for the utilities and food for about a year. After that, I’ll have to hit the streets.”
“From what you told me last night, I think you already got him back.” Angela sat back down, then picked up her mug, smiling over her steaming hot latte. “You still look pretty good, too. I’m nine years younger than you and I have more gray hairs than you do. Maybe it’s the dark shade you got from your mom, whereas I got the light hair from your father and my dad’s side of the family. I bet you’d do rather well on the streets.”
I rolled my eyes, then swiped at my tears again. “Not funny, Ang. Seriously. It’s not like I can go back to cocktail waitressing. Who wants to see a thirty-four-year-old mom in short-shorts and a tank top?”
My cousin jumped up from her chair. “I got it! Remember when I told you about Jenny, my friend from college who’s doing so well, the one who started that couponing website.”
I dropped my head into my palm, rubbing my temples with my middle finger and thumb, trying to massage away a headache that was forming from lack of sleep … and stress … and probably because I hadn’t eaten anything in days. Not to mention that the continuous waterworks had more than likely left me dehydrated. “I don’t even like clipping coupons for myself.”
Angela waved her hands as she paced around my kitchen. “It’s more than that. It’s not really about the coupons as much as it is about the products she displays on her website. She’s an affiliate for several major websites. And get this,” Angela leaned across the counter in front of me, “she makes up to ten percent when someone from her site buys a product, any product. It doesn’t even have to be the item she’s advertising.”
I sniffed, then cocked my head. “Go on …”
“Well, you just have to find something you love, and then start blogging about it. From there, I guess you can add all the links.”
I huffed out a breath. “What do I love? I’ve never done anything. I know how to be a wife and mother. Other than that, I don’t even have any hobbies. I’ve been too busy raising Eric and taking care of my stupid unfaithful husband.”
Ignoring my complaint, Angela slid onto a barstool, then rested her head on her folded hands. “There’s gotta be something, Jana.”
“I like wine …” I ventured, thinking a tall goblet of Merlot would taste really good about now, but Angela would probably start to question me if I pulled out a bottle of wine at five a.m. “You and I have always enjoyed going to those wine-tasting events. And I’m great at picking out the most expensive.”
Angela nodded, then shook her head. “You are, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. You know, with your mother’s history … and Aunt Heidi.”
I didn’t want to think about my mother. Not that I knew her anyway. She’d been dead since I was in diapers. My aunt, on the other hand, had been the closest thing to a mother I’d known. But in the last year or so, I’d only seen her a handful of times. Angela and I both knew she had a drinking problem, but it seemed to have gotten worse lately.
Not that I was an alcoholic, but with the history of drug and alcohol abuse in both of my parents’ families, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to take up a hobby that required me to drink on a daily basis.
“Yeah … I guess you’re right,” I said.
“Oh!” Angela jumped up again. Even pregnant, the woman had more energy than my son, and that was saying a lot. “Reading! You love to read!” she exclaimed with conviction, as though my love of reading would solve all of my problems. Truly, reading had helped me cope when I was a teenager, but I doubted I could disappear into make believe as I’d done when I was an adolescent.
Still trying to loosen the tension in my head, I pinched the skin above my eyebrow. “Yeah, but how am I going to make money from reading?”
“You can blog about what you read. Write reviews and stuff.”
“Angela, you’re a lot younger than I am. You understand all of that computer stuff. I wouldn’t know how to do that.”
“Jenny says it’s easy. In fact, she’s been wanting to train me. But with the baby, not to mention being pregnant again, I just don’t have the time or energy. I’m sure she’d come over and help you set it up, though, especially if you tell her you’ll link back to her site.”
I leaned back in my chair. It was worth a look. I didn’t like the idea of starting a full-time job when Eric was accustomed to me taking him to school and all of his extra-curricular activities every day. Since I’d been unable to do much other than go to school and babysit Angela when I was a teenager, I’d wanted Eric to enjoy his high school years.
“Okay … I’ll look into it. Anything is better than nothing at this point, I guess. Besides, it’ll give me something to do so I don’t spend every minute of my day scheming how to make Dick’s life a living hell.”
Angela laughed. “Well, it’s been three hours and the police haven’t shown up. Maybe he’s decided not to press charges, hoping he’ll get in your good graces.”
I inhaled a deep breath, hoping Angela was right about the cops, but then said, “Dick Embers couldn’t earn his way back into my good graces if he were the Pope himself.
Thank you for reading this sneak peek. Head on over to my website, www.CarmenDeSousaBooks.com, for links to it and all of my books.
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Carmen
[What's Luck Got To Do With It 02.0] Down on Her Luck Page 15