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If she said yes, I knew there was no way she’d stray from the plan. With Sarah in tow, she’d definitely only go straight to the grocery store and straight home. She didn’t like to lug the wheelchair a ton of places. But if she said no—
She glanced at me as if I’d just asked the most ridiculous question. “No.”
Well then, there was no telling where she was really going or what she was real
ly buying with my money. She’d had a drug problem a couple years back but she’d sworn to me she was clean now. I had no proof otherwise, but sometimes I couldn’t help but wonder: where did all the money I gave her truly go? I’d taken over most of the utility payments and covered Sarah’s medical expenses, school, and clothing. But Mom had two jobs and she still never had enough. I couldn’t outright accuse her of anything but I could never really trust her, either.
“Just be back before five, okay? I can’t watch Sarah any later than that. I gotta work tonight.”
Mom paused. “At the Country Club?”
The fact that she even asked me that set my teeth on edge. I was a valet at the Country Club’s golf course, restaurant, casino, and hotel. That was technically my only job. But every time she made a reference to my other source of income, I swear something in me died. She’d never come right out and addressed the subject, never tried to stop me from what I did, never mentioned a single censorious, motherly thing about it. All she did was ask me for more money.
I didn’t hate my mother. I couldn’t hate her if I tried. She was my freaking mom. She’d stuck around when everyone else in our lives had split. She was by no means perfect but she did try. A single mother, she held two jobs and made sure my sister was fed and clean. Sarah and I knew she loved us—in her own way—so it seemed selfish to wish for some kind of June Cleaver. But the mere fact that she obviously knew about my side profession and had never once tried to save me from it kind of stung. Made me think the money was more important to her than my damned, filthy soul.
The money was important, though, so important I probably wouldn’t have stopped if she had begged me to, but I would’ve at least appreciated her efforts. More than she ever knew.
“Yeah. The Country Club,” I answered, then rinsed out my toothbrush and put it away. “Where’s Sarah?”
“Watching TV in the living room.” Her feet shifted as if she were antsy to escape.
We didn’t have an easy, comfortable relationship. We hadn’t for two years now, when I’d started taking money from women in exchange for sex.
I blamed myself, always wondering if we would be closer today if I’d never started what I had. So I’d begun this strange habit of prolonging each of our encounters as long as I could, gauging her level of happiness and hoping someday we’d find some kind of mother-son connection.
“Could you get me some more soap at the store?” I asked because I wanted to ensure she actually went grocery shopping, and also because I was honestly running low.
When you had to wash off various women, you tended to go through a lot of soap.
Mom paused as if she knew exactly why I needed more soap before she gave a jerky nod. “S-sure. No problem.”
“Thanks. And you remember I start classes in the morning, right?”
She blinked as if she had forgotten, but her answer was, “Of course. Did you need me to pick up some school supplies, too?”
I shook my head. “Nah, I’ve already got that taken care of, but thanks. I was just reminding you I’d be gone more and won’t be able to help so much with Sarah.”
“That’s right.” She pressed her palm to her forehead and winced as if the stress of that was too much to bear. “I’m going to have to find another evening sitter for her soon. Dammit.”
“Want me to find one?” I offered.
She glanced at me but then shook her head. “No. It’s fine. I’ve already started working on it. I got an ad posted in the college classifieds. I just forgot to put one in the city newspaper, too.”
When I nodded, neither of us had anything else to mention, but I refused to be the one to say goodbye first.
Mom shifted her weight again, brushed some hair out of her eyes, and glanced everywhere but at me. “So, are you nervous?” she asked. “About returning to school again?”
I was, but not in the way she probably thought. She most likely assumed I was worried I’d be out of practice since I hadn’t done the school scene for a while. I’d graduated high school two years earlier. At the time, there’d been no money or prospect for college. But now, not only did I have the cash to afford any class I wanted from the local community college, but I also had the renewed determination to make something more of my life.
This creeping sensation had been assailing me lately. I kept worrying that if I stayed on the path I was following, I’d end up self-destructing. I needed a change, a future to look forward to, something to make me feel worthy of myself.
So I’d enrolled this semester, hoping maybe, if luck looked my way, I’d get myself a real job someday, something that paid enough that I could leave the prostitution business behind with no worries, no panic, just peace of mind. For good, this time.
Shrugging at my mother, I mumbled, “A little, I guess.” I was ready and anxious to get started on this next phase, but I kept fearing something would go terribly wrong and I’d have to drop out and kill my dream of escape. I was nervous I’d end up stuck being a paid whore forever.
But who told their mother that?
“I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
