I studied her face for a moment. Her delicate features were more pleasant when they were relaxed. Her lips moved slightly as if sounding out a word, and I couldn’t help but notice she was wearing the pink lipstick again. It looked good on her.
She looked up and I managed a small smile, even though internally I was gulping. It was going to be weird to be nice to her when I’d been so rude at first. Especially because I still couldn’t stand her.
“Hi,” I said. “I was hoping you’d be here.”
“Well, I am.” She sat up straight, closing the file. She didn’t look pleased to see me, exactly. Smug, maybe. It was hard to read her expression. “What can I do for you?”
I sat in the chair opposite hers and pulled the papers she’d given me out of my duffel bag. “I don’t get what I’m supposed to do. Should I get in touch with my ex-boyfriend now, or should I wait until I’m serving him papers?”
“That’s a question for your lawyer, not for me.”
I swallowed. “I don’t think he’ll be able to help me with this. If I want to do this, I’m going to have to find a different lawyer.”
“I think that might be a good idea.”
“So… how do I do that?” I set the papers aside. “I can’t pay hundreds of dollars, you know.”
“Right.” She grabbed a page and searched through it. “You might not even need one. You could just apply online, through the Florida Department of Revenue. The child support office can help you. You’d probably get more if you were to work with a lawyer, and it’d save you time and effort. The process can be pretty overwhelming…”
“That’s fine!” I grabbed the page back and checked to make sure she was right. “I can do it on my own. I don’t need anybody.”
“It’s not going to be easy.”
“I didn’t say it was.” I glared at her. Did she think I was stupid? I could deal with a complicated problem just fine.
“Okay, have it your way. Do it yourself.” Her eyebrows rose like she was issuing a challenge.
“I can handle it.” I bristled.
Why did this woman get under my skin like that? I barely knew her. Her opinion of me shouldn’t have mattered. And yet the image she had of me pissed me off more than I could believe. Like I was some little kid who’d come crying back to her when things didn’t work out! I didn’t need her.
If she was going to judge me, I’d judge her right back. She was obnoxious. And annoying. And stuck-up. She was probably as broke as me. A social worker’s salary couldn’t be much. She probably had no life. No friends. She was probably a cold fish in bed – letting her boyfriends pump away while she lay there yawning.
Although… it’d still be an honor for them just to see and touch her naked body. Even contained in her demure work clothes, I could tell her breasts were full, her waist small, her butt round. For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine running a palm over her luminescent skin, letting my thumb graze over her nipples.
My stomach lurched, and I forced the image out of my mind. What was I doing?
The sight of her smirk brought me firmly back into the present moment. “Good luck with that,” she said coolly.
I glowered back at her. The door creaked open and I jumped up like a shot, a real smile taking over my face.
Forget this woman. She didn’t matter in the slightest.
I only had two hours to spend with Mercy.
Seven – Sylvia
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so rude to Jenelle. She was doing what I wanted her to do – coming to me for assistance. It was best for her to keep doing that if I was to win the bet with Max.
Then again, I didn’t think she really needed me. I didn’t specialize in child support or anything like that. I didn’t know the system any better than she did. I could’ve helped her find a low-cost lawyer, but if she wanted to do it alone, there was no point in that either.
“How’s your side of the bet looking?” Max asked during our happy hour. We’d gone to a new place with tapas, and bite-size servings of four or five appetizers were spread across the table. All on me, of course – but it’d even out soon enough.
“Okay,” I said. “Jenelle’s going to work on getting child support on her own, so I figured I’d talk to her about getting a new job next time she comes in.”
“And she’s going to do it just because you say so?” He popped a piece of fried cauliflower into his mouth. “I saw you talking when she was on her way in. Doesn’t seem like you’re her favorite person right now.”
“I don’t need to be. She just has to listen to me.” Although being her favorite person did sound kind of appealing. I could do without the way she always glared at me like I’d murdered her entire family.
“You said you’re going to change her life by the end of November?” he asked. “That’s four weeks. Eight sessions. And she isn’t going to get a job overnight. She’ll have to write a resume, get it critiqued, send out applications… And she doesn’t have much spare time, as she might’ve mentioned.”
“Okay, I get it.” My chest was suddenly tight. “Why am I listening to you, anyway? You don’t want me to win this bet.”
He paused with a nacho chip halfway to his mouth. “I do, actually. If I end up buying your lunch for a month, it’ll be the best money I ever spent. I’d love to see Jenelle succeed.”
“Even if it disproves your point about her being stuck in her situation?”
“I never said she was completely stuck. I said it would be harder for her to change things than it would be for you.”
I stared at him. “Then why make the bet?”
He bit down on the chip, looking smug. “Because I wanted you to help her.”
I rolled my eyes. “So this is all part of your devious plan to get Jenelle a new life?”
“You could say that.”
Over the weekend, I spent a few hours looking into job postings that I might be able to show to Jenelle. There wasn’t much for people who only had a high school diploma, especially jobs that paid more than minimum wage. It might be tougher than I’d thought to get her making more than she was making now.
Maybe she could be a waitress and work for tips? But then she got tips at the strip club, and it still didn’t seem to be enough. If anything, I’d think people there would be more generous than at an average restaurant. Why was the money not adding up for her?
Right… because she was supporting two people on a single salary. I closed my laptop and lay on my bed, pressing my head into the pillow. I might lose this bet after all.
But wait. I whipped my laptop open again, filled with fresh motivation. I didn’t need to have all the answers for Jenelle. I just had to get her into an employment center, where they’d have better advice for her.
I Googled those for a while, until I fell asleep.
Tuesday afternoon rolled around quicker than I expected, and I waited for Jenelle with trepidation. There was something scary about her – something more than her intimidatingly good looks. I could feel the anger simmering within her, and I knew it had just cause.
“How’s the child support going?” I asked, standing up as she entered the waiting room. “Have you reached out to your ex to put him on the birth certificate?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”
I glanced at my watch. She was ten minutes early, and she knew Mercy’s foster parents always brought her exactly on time. Consciously or subconsciously, she’d come early to talk to me. I was sure of it.
“Is there anything I can help you with?”
She shook her head fiercely. “No.”
Fine, I’d leave that subject alone. If she wanted to do it all on her own, she could go ahead. “I was thinking about your work hours,” I said, yawning and stretching my back like this was a casual suggestion. “If you could make more per hour, you could work a lot less.”
She stared at me like I was stupid. “And how am I going to get my bosses to give me more money? Blow them?”
“No.” My cheeks heated. “I mean you could look into finding a new job. I took the liberty of printing out some resources…”
She took the pages, glanced at them for a millisecond, and shoved them into her bag. “You know I don’t have time for that.”
“Some of them have appointments available outside of regular working hours,” I said. “Or they have online resources you can look into.”
“I don’t know about all this.”
“How long are you going to keep going the way you’re going?” I stood up to face her so I could look her in the eye. She was ever so slightly shorter than me, which made me feel oddly powerful. “How long can you push yourself before you burn out?”
“That’s what you don’t understand, Sylvia.” Her voice was cold. “The worst has already happened, and I’m still doing this. Making it work. I have to.”
“But what if you didn’t?” I pressed. “What if you could make twenty dollars an hour, forty hours a week? Evenings off. Weekends off. And you could still make the same amount you’re making now.”
Her lips tightened, and she turned away. “You’re living in fantasyland. There are no jobs like that for someone like me.”
“When’s the last time you looked?” Her resignation was making me frustrated. How could she ever change her situation if she wouldn’t even try?
She tossed her head. “Whatever. I’ll think about it.”
That was about as good as it got with her. The word “stubborn” didn’t even begin to cover it. But I was starting to understand that I could get through to her, even if she was too proud to show it.
The door swung open again for Mercy’s arrival, and Jenelle proceeded to forget I even existed. I watched her carefully, taking notes on everything she did. She was as kind and warm to her daughter as ever, although she seemed irritated when Mercy wasn’t enthusiastic about the toys she’d brought.
When Mercy went to the bathroom, I went up to Jenelle again. “You could have her bring some homework if she’s bored of her toys.”
She pressed her hands to her forehead, sitting back on the couch. “Why would I do that? I hardly get to see her, and she’s getting more shy with me every visit. I don’t want her to associate me with schoolwork. Let Linda and Stephen do the boring stuff with her.”
My heart twinged. She’d put words to what I’d noticed. Since she wasn’t with Mercy all the time, Mercy was getting less comfortable with her. I’d seen it happen to some of my other clients, and it was painful to watch – especially when the parent loved the child as whole-heartedly as Jenelle did.
“Okay,” I said. “It’s up to you, of course. It just seemed like she wasn’t too into coloring again, and…” I glanced over at the overflowing toy box. “Helping her with her homework would look good to the judge. I’m sure you could figure out a way to make it fun.”
“I’ll think about it,” she grumbled.
She kept Mercy focused on the coloring book for the next half hour of her visit, but I did notice her eyes drifting over to the toy box. I took notes assiduously, staying out of the way so as not to bother them.
Mercy finished her picture and pushed the crayons away with a flourish. “I’m done, Mommy!”
“Oh, that’s beautiful, baby.” Jenelle bent her head over the paper. “I like how you made the water turquoise. Looks really pretty.”
Her face was tense, and I felt my lips tighten as well. Had she run out of things to do? Even if she took my advice on the homework next time, she had nothing more to do today. There were fifteen minutes left in the visit, and I knew she’d want to end on a good note.
I stepped forward, trying to look confident. “How about a fun game? You don’t need anything for it.”
Jenelle eyed me warily, and I knew there was a good chance she was about to tell me to fuck off. She took a visible breath, then let it out. “What game is that?”
“I Spy. Do you know it?”
Mercy nodded enthusiastically. “I want to go first!”
“Okay, baby.” Jenelle put her arm over Mercy’s shoulders as the little girl cast her eyes around the room.
I gave her a quick smile, inching back toward my spot at the wall. But when Mercy spoke again, she was looking at me. “I spy with my little eye something that’s blue.”
Jenelle made a few guesses, all of which Mercy responded to with a vehement no. “You guess, Sylvia,” she said to me.
I hadn’t intended to make myself part of this game, but I couldn’t let the little girl down. “Is it the stripes on the front of your coloring book?”
“No!” she said with a squeal of laughter.
“Okay, we give up,” Jenelle said. “What is it, honey?” She wanted me out of the game, wanted Mercy’s attention on her. I couldn’t blame her.
“It’s Sylvia’s eyes,” Mercy said with evident delight.
“Oh, really! Isn’t that creative?” Jenelle looked thoroughly unamused.
I backed up some more, wishing I could vanish straight into the wall. “You won that round, Mercy. Now it’s your mom’s turn.”
“Actually, I was thinking about playing another game,” Jenelle said. “Simon Says.”
“Sounds good.” I stayed where I was.
“No, you come here.” She stood up. “Join the game.” There was something threatening in her tone.
“Sure.” I came forward cautiously. “Are you Simon?”
“Yes. You and Mercy have to do what I say.”
“But only if she says Simon Says,” Mercy piped up.
Jenelle’s deep brown eyes drilled into me. “Simon says scratch your head.”
Obediently, Mercy and I did so.
“Simon says slap your face.”
I gave her a sharp look, but tapped my face lightly with my palm.
“Do the chicken dance.”
That one was easier. I launched into the song, waggling my arms to match. “Da na na na na na na na, da na na na na na na na…”
Mercy exploded in laughter, pointing up at me. “She didn’t say Simon Says!”
Jenelle covered her mouth, and I could see her lips had curved up behind her hand. “No, I didn’t.”
“Oh, right. Ha. You got me.” I straightened up self-consciously. “Good one.”
Jenelle lowered her hand, still smiling – but not in a cruel way. It was odd, she looked almost… affectionate? “It’s your turn,” she said, turning toward her daughter. “See if you can make Sylvia do something even more embarrassing this time.”
“I’m ready for you,” I said confidently. “I won’t be fooled so easily – but I have a feeling your mom might be.”
Mercy stood tall, throwing her shoulders back. “Simon says, stand on one foot!” All trace of shyness was gone.
I did my best imitation of an ostrich, holding my hands out as I teetered back and forth. At my side, Jenelle wasn’t faring much better than I was. Mercy cackled, rubbing her hands together like a cartoon villain.
“Oh, I get it,” I gasped out. “Very funny. Next action, please.”
“Okay, stand on two feet.” Mercy grinned.
“Simon didn’t say it.” I hopped to the other foot, hoping she wouldn’t consider it cheating. “Give us a break here.”
“Yeah, honey. Mommy can’t do this forever.” Jenelle grabbed my arm for balance.
The physical contact sent my mind whirling, and heat coursed through my veins. Her hand was small and soft, and the feel of it touching me made my throat go dry.
I let out a squeak, and my raised foot toppled to the floor. “Dammit!”
“You shouldn’t be cursing in front of a little girl, Sylvia.” Jenelle’s eyes were… warm?
It took her a moment to let go of me, and even longer for my heartbeat to calm down to its usual.
I was having fun. With Jenelle. And she wasn’t acting like she hated me.
Right now, it didn’t even matter whether or not I won the bet.
Eight – Jenelle
The child sup
port thing was actually going to work out. It’d taken hours of research crammed into my spare moments over the past few weeks, and I’d even gotten a free consultation with a family lawyer, but it was all coming together.
Hudson had agreed to be listed on Mercy’s birth certificate. He wasn’t even demanding a paternity test. He said he’d had her at the back of his mind all this time, and he regretted not stepping up financially. He didn’t want to be a part of her life, but he was willing to meet her if she ever got curious about him. He sounded far more mature than the last time I’d spoken to him.
I let out a long breath as I reread his message on my screen. He was going to pay three hundred dollars a month, plus two years of back support in instalments. Although the foster parents would get the payments for now, I’d get them once Mercy came home – and the back support would come to me. The money was going to be life-changing.
This was all thanks to Sylvia. My lawyer should’ve brought this up during the court hearing, and he hadn’t bothered. Sylvia had pushed me into doing this out of the goodness of her heart, and I hadn’t even thanked her. We’d been getting along better over the past little while, and yet I’d never expressed my gratitude for her help. I’d tell her about this the minute I saw her on Tuesday.
I closed my phone and set it in my purse. The strip club was crowded even for a Friday night, and the tips had been rolling in consistently – but they’d soon stop if the customers saw me “playing” on my phone.
Hopefully this wouldn’t be for too much longer. Now that the child support was in order, I could start thinking about looking into the employment resources Sylvia had given me. If I could find a job paying twenty bucks an hour, it’d be like a dream.
I glanced at the dancer twining her way around the pole, then noticed Ginger making her way toward me. Striding confidently in her six-inch heels, she ignored the customers trying to talk to her.
“Hey,” she said, her eyes glowing. “What happened? You look like you just won the lottery.”
“Close enough.” I explained what’d happened with the child support.
Half A Heart Page 5