The Arrangement 6

by H. M. Ward

Page 7

 

  I slip inside and turn the key. The car starts right up. The interior is new and shiny even though it’s decades old. I run my fingers along the dashboard, wondering if Sean changed anything else. It looks new. I slide the control across and turn on the heater. I keep my hand on the lever, expecting to get blasted with white smoke, but it never comes. He fixed the heater. I smile to myself. I’m not wearing a jacket. It’s like Sean knew that and had the heater repaired. Normally, all the heat would have gone out the window, but it doesn’t. My window is up. I lean forward and roll it down.

  Ah! It moves! Oh my God! The window works! This is my car, but he brought it back to life. It doesn’t stall anymore. I don’t have to drive with two feet. It runs, like a real car. I sit there grinning as snowflakes cover the windshield. I’m almost afraid to try it, but I have to. I flick the wipers and they turn on. The wiper blades swoosh up and then down. Then they do it again.

  “He fixed everything. ” I glance at the passenger seat and figure the seatbelt works too.

  I take a deep breath. I can’t stop smiling. I know exactly what I’m going to do. I pull out of the lot and head to the parkway. I drive east as the snow comes down harder and harder. By the time I get there, there’s a blanket of white covering the ground. It’s pristine and perfect.

  I turn into the old cemetery. Snow lines the top of the headstones. I drive down the lane to my parents’ plot and shut the engine. I grab my bag and get out. There are a couple of inches of snow on the ground. It isn’t much, but it’s enough. I make a snowball and start rolling it around. It gets bigger and bigger before I roll it over to my parents’ grave.

  I talk to them as I do it. I tell them about everything that’s going on, about how my life is getting away from me. I love a man who doesn’t love me back. I’m a call girl. I finally manage to talk about that. “I don’t like it. It’s not what I thought it would be. I don’t think I’m the kind of girl who sleeps around, so it feels really weird. Besides, I hate all the lying. It feels like I’m lying to everyone lately. ”

  I roll around another snowball as I talk, then bring it over and stack it on the other one. I make a third snowball and roll it around, and then put it on top of the other two when it’s the size of a pumpkin. My snowman is vertically challenged. I pack more snow on his belly and smooth it out. When I’m done, I stand in front of him. The snowman is a little shorter than me. I grab a scarf and the buttons from my bag. I press two hot pink sparkly buttons into his eyes and wrap a pink scarf around his neck. So he’s a transvestite snowman. I like pink. I continue to talk to my parents as I finish decorating my snowman and the flow of words finally dries up.

  When I’m done, I straighten, suck in the cold air, and look at their headstone. Memories flicker across my mind. My mom loved the first snowfall. My dad had told me the story of how they meet so many times that I’ll never forget. They were both teenagers and had gone out sledding. Their sleds collided and it was fate. When I was a kid, they’d take me to Cardiac Hill at Sunken Meadow. They’d retell that same story every time. Winter was always filled with warm memories.

  I smile to myself. I feel okay right now. I feel like I can bounce back and get on with things. I have to talk to Miss Black later. I wish to God my parents were still alive. I wish I didn’t have to live this way, but wishing never made anything come true. It’s time to stop feeling sorry for myself. I can do this. I have to. I will.

  I glance up and look past the enormous tree. My gaze lands on Amanda Ferro’s grave. There are footprints in front of it. Sean must have been here. I look around for him, but he’s gone. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m walking toward the grave. I stop in front of it and look down at the blanket of white. I don’t know what comes over me, but I make a snowball in my hand. I roll it around and pack the snow together until there’s a snowman next to her headstone.

  Sean would have had a family. They would have gone Christmas shopping. His wife would have been making pot roast and wintery foods that fill the house with delicious scents. Instead, she’s here with their only child, and Sean is alone.

  I’m alone.

  I turn away and walk back to my car. I drive off before Sean can materialize. I wonder how long he watched me or if he noticed me at all.

  CHAPTER 8

  I’m sitting in Miss Black’s office. It’s late. She’s wearing a slim black suit that accentuates her thin frame. She looks regal. Miss Black has this air about her that’s completely intimidating. The more I get to know her, the more I don’t like her. The first day we met, she seemed nice, but I think that was a mask. The real Miss Black is a savvy business woman and often has a ruthless look in her eye—especially when it comes to me.

  I’m dressed in old jeans with a torn knee and an oversized cream-colored sweater. It hides my figure. My hair is swept back into a sloppy ponytail. I cross my legs at the knee and slouch back into my seat.

  Miss Black lifts one of her perfectly plucked brows. She’s not happy with me.

  I protest calmly. “You said make them want more. I don’t see a problem here. The only two clients I’ve been with are asking for me. How’s that a bad thing?” I’m trying to keep my voice level. This is about Sean, but she hasn’t said that yet.

  “Miss Stanz, it’s concerning. The nature of your relationship with Mr. Ferro—”

  “I don’t have a relationship with Mr. Ferro. ” I can say that because it’s true. We’re barely friends. Half the time it feels like I’m walking on sand with him. The earth keeps shifting under my feet. I never know which version of Sean I’m with. The dark version scares the crap out of me and I know that’s the Sean I’ll have if Black puts us together this weekend. I kind of hope she does. I want all this twisted secret stuff he’s hiding to be forced out in the open, but then again it might be too much.

  She stares at me. “You’ve done something to both of these men. I have no idea what’s between you and Mr. Ferro, but don’t you dare tell me that it’s nothing. You’ve been seen together outside of work—”

  “By accident. It was a coincidence. What do you want me to do if I bump into Henry Thomas? Blow him off? He might let me, but you already know that Mr. Ferro won’t. He’s kind of demanding. ” I make a face and look down at my hands.

  “I’m going to say this plainly. If I catch you in a relationship outside of work—if you have any sexual partners at all—I will demand that you return every penny you’ve earned here. I don’t play games Miss Stanz. ”

  “Neither do I. ” I sit up straight in my seat and lean forward, resting my hands on her dark desk. “Tell me why I haven’t been fired? If you think I’m being some sort of deviant—”

  She cuts me off. “You are some sort of deviant. You’re a call girl. You lie to men for a living and apparently you are very good at it. Of course, I expect you to take your clients in on the side. It cuts out my share and you get paid more for less work. Meanwhile, I’m the one protecting you girls and screening the men. I won’t stand for it Avery. ”

  “I am not taking in any business on the side. ” I look straight into her eyes and try not to laugh. Like I would do such a thing? “I can barely get through a night without throwing up on the guy. ”

  “I’m not naïve. You play the part well, but I know it’s an act. ” I open my mouth to explain but she raises her hand. “Enough. You know the penalty if you get caught. As for this weekend, you’ll be double booked since both men are asking for you. ”

  I gape at her. “What?”

  Miss Black is no longer looking at me. She’s writing something on the legal pad in front of her. “Well, you didn’t expect me to turn them away, did you? Mr. Ferro wants you on Friday and Saturday evening. When I told Mr. Thomas that you were booked solid this weekend, he asked if it would be possible to reserve you for Sunday afternoon. We made the schedule work.

  “However, I must say, I am leery of Mr. Ferro. Your last meeting alone with hi
m didn’t end well, however he was at the meeting with Thomas. ” She pauses and cocks her head at me, like she just realized something. “You’re playing them against each other. ” Respect flashes in her eyes. “I didn’t think you had it in you. You did something—at that dinner—and made them compete for you. I’m impressed. ” She sweeps her eyes over me like she’s seeing me for the first time.

  Holy crap is she wrong, but I’m not stupid enough to tell her that. Plus she’s not pissed at me for the moment, so I just flash her a cheesy smile. Yup, that’s me. Super Slut. Someone should give me a cape. I wonder if I can laugh like an evil villain, but I don’t try. Black will think I’m insane. Maybe I am.

  Dr. Pratz said to get my hours shaved back and Black is piling them on—and right at the end of the semester. If I work all weekend, I won’t have time to finish my papers. I’m caught in the middle and not sure what to do. Since I don’t really have a choice, I just nod.

  “Miss Stanz,” she says as I stand to leave. “Don’t you want to know what your take of the fee is this weekend?” No, not really. Okay, maybe a little. I nod. She pushes a little white card toward me. It’s a lot of money, not as much as I was supposed to get from the first time, but still a lot. “It’s impressive. ”

  “It’s something. ”

  “You don’t sound happy. ”

  I smirk at her. “This is no place for happiness, Miss Black. This is business. ”

  “I’m glad you understand. ”

  CHAPTER 9

  It’s the end of the week already. I’m sitting across from Marty in the lab. Everyone else has finished, except one girl who was ditched her lab partner. She’s pulling double duty. I feel bad for her. If Marty wasn’t around, that would be me.

  Marty measures something and sets it aside. I write down the number on our worksheet. He glances at me quickly and goes back to work. He’s been so tense lately. The other night when he picked me up in Babylon was weird. It was the only night that I didn’t have nightmares. I wonder if it was him—if it was Marty that chased the dreams away. But that’s silly. I’m staring at the side of his face.