Page 43 of The Pleasure Contract

I make a beeline for her, my little lit-up bubble just about keeping pace with me.

When I get to the foot of the motherhood statue, I have to crane my neck to see her face. And, from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s shrieking a battle cry just before she launches that axe right at me. At her feet, there are dozens and dozens of the little flame-in-a-bubble spheres, gently bobbing up and down like floating candles at this altar of motherhood.

“Whoa,” is all I manage to say as I keep staring up at her.

“Aunt Zalora always loved this depiction,” Az supplies in a low voice as he looks up at her, too. “And I can’t help but think she sees herself a bit like this version of San… except… you know, swap the battleaxe out for her cane.”

I then watch as he holds his palm out flat, blowing gently on his bubble-candle. The strange flame inside flickers, but then the little sphere slowly drifts toward the foot of this particular statue to be with its kin. I follow suit and do the same. “She stepped in to raise you when you lost your mom, right?”

“Mm-hm,” he affirms, still looking up at the statue.

He doesn’t say anything else, so I decide not to push.

“She looks fierce,” I comment, swallowing. I can feel the goosebumps prickling up my arms just looking at her here in the dark.

“Of course,” Az supplies, leaning sideways toward me as if murmuring a secret. “Mothers are the ultimate protectors.”

And it’s just then that I get hit by a wave of the most devastating feeling. Like a deep chasm of longing just cracked wide open in the pit of my stomach.

I do that thing – I don’t mean to do it – that jolty little inhale you usually do between sobs.

Except I’m not sobbing – not on the outside.

“Lois?” Az says, and his voice is so low and warm and rich – it’s like falling into a mug of hot cocoa with whipped cream.

And before I know it, I feel the gentle brush of his finger as he wipes away a tear I hadn’t meant to let roll down my cheek.

“Lois, what is it? Do you wish to go?”

“No,” I state as plainly as I can manage with my wobbly voice, my nose trying to sniff up all that extra emotion to keep it locked inside. “No, I want to be here, I just-” I start, furiously wiping at my cheeks. When I look back up to Az, I can see the soft expression of concern on his features, even in the dimly lit chapel. “I… I just really miss my mom,” I admit, turning back to the statue. “You wouldn’t think it, to look at all of five-foot-one of her, but she was fiercely protective when it came to me. She had to be.”

Az is quiet for a time, and all I can hear is the soft trickle of the little waterfall they have in the dark of one of the chapel corners. He shifts closer, though, and asks, “Why did she have to be, Lois?”

Oh, God. Do I really want to tell him this?

I sigh and look back up to ‘Mother San’ in all her axe-wielding glory.

“My biological dad didn’t stick around,” I start, finding courage in the alien deity before me. “Not even until the end of my mom’s pregnancy. It was just her and me until I was about six. Things were really tough. We didn’t have a lot of money. Then, along came my step-dad, Jerry-”

When I glance at Az, he looks a little confused.

“Um… when a single parent marries someone who isn’t a biological parent to their child, that parent becomes a ‘step-parent’.”

His brow clears of confusion as he nods, encouraging me to continue.

“Things were great with Jerry at first,” I say, deciding I can’t stay still while recounting this whole chapter of my life. I start to walk, keeping my eyes on the low-lit statues, tableaus, plants, and bubbling waterfall. “He promised my mom he would always look after us both. He had a good job and moved us into the house he inherited from his parents. It was like that for about ten years. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t bad. He was good to me – good to my mom. They loved each other. But then his job let him go, and he struggled to find something else. And Jerry…” I pause, watching as some of those little magical candle spheres cascade down the small waterfall like it was their own personal waterpark.

“Jerry…” Az prompts, bringing me back to myself.

I bite my lip and swallow. “Jerry seemed like a completely different man once times got tough. Where he had been kind, he turned sour. Where he had been patient, he snapped everyone’s head off. And-” I pause to take a breath and continue, “I understand the pressures of having no money – I’ve lived it myself – but what he asked my mom to do, I-”

Shaking my head, I can barely get the words out.

Az stays standing at my side, tall and solid, and so oddly comforting.

There’s no nice way to say this, so I just-

“Jerry asked my mom to have sex with men for money.”