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Chapter One
“Miss, stop! The bridge is about to open.”
I ignored the toll bridge operator’s screams and sprinted ahead. This drawbridge took forever to open and close. If I got stuck waiting for the ancient thing to run its cycle, the interview would be over before I got there. The bridge was just starting to creak open, barely a foot gap. The toll bridge guy was hot on my heels as I leapt to the other side. Or tried to.
I tripped over my own feet, flying forward. I skidded to a stop on my hands and knees.
That was when it all changed. The sun was gone. The breeze was gone and the air grew—flat. The world was gone. All the things Gram had said right before I left the house came rushing back to me. What the hell had she done?
Two hours before the world as I knew it ended…
Jeannie: Did you watch?
Me:You know I didn’t. I never do.
Jeannie:Good. He doesn’t deserve your attention.
Me:Talk later. Leaving for the interview soon.
I took a last look in the mirror, smoothing down some stray auburn hairs and straightening the suit my friend Jeannie had lent me. Today I would get the job I’d gone into debt for. The day I stopped worrying about every dime as the beginning of the month came again, along with the bills. It would be the day I hung up my waitress apron, gave up walking in between the tables like an invisible ghost until someone’s food was too cold or a meal took too long.
I opened the door to leave my room, and my mother was headed toward me, letter crumpled in her hand, anger roiling off her.
“He’s saying he’s going to raise our rent again,” she said, thrusting the piece of paper at me.
I took it, scanning the words while trying to keep a calm exterior. My mother was quick to temper, and my getting worked up as well would only fuel the issue. As it was, I’d taken over all communication with the landlord. It was the only way he’d allowed us to stay after she threw a pot at him when he raised the rent last time.
My stomach dropped. He was hiking the rent on our small house by five hundred dollars. The rents in Southwest Florida were so bad that we’d have to pay it. There was nowhere else to go.
“Can you believe what he wants for this dump? He’s just like all the rest of them, trying to screw us. Take everything we have.” Her voice was shrill as she headed toward her cabinet, the one where she kept her vodka.
“I’ll call him and talk to him. I’m sure we can work something out,” I said in a soft monotone, knowing that what I’d be working out was a possible extension until I got a paycheck. When she was like this, giving her the slightest hint of your own fury was like handing her another magazine of bullets. After managing her moods for more than two decades, I’d gotten quite proficient at it, even as that tone of hers sometimes made me feel like that small, scared child again.
I tucked the letter into my purse on the kitchen table so she wouldn’t be able to reread it another fifty times, working herself up until she was taking a sledgehammer to the bathroom.
Grammy walked out of her bedroom, took one look at her daughter, and rolled her eyes before taking a seat at the kitchen table. She patted the chair next to her.
“Billie, come sit and talk to me before you leave,” she said, smiling. Gram was always smiling—even when she was being mean, she smiled. It was a mystery to many how she’d given birth to a woman who never smiled at all.
“Ma, she doesn’t have time. She’ll talk to you when she gets back.” My mother paused to take a drink from her coffee mug filled with vodka. “Right now we need her to get to this interview if you want to have a place to live next week. God knows the tips she’s making at the diner aren’t cutting it.”
“I’ve got a couple of minutes.” It was quarter to eight. I could squeeze out fifteen minutes for the woman who’d been the most mothering female I’d had in my life.
“Yeah, sure. You’ve always got time to talk to her. You two know everything.” Mom’s eyes were glued to me as I sat next to Gram. “You know, I bethisnew wife doesn’t have to worry about anything. She gets everything she looks at. She doesn’t have to concern herself with who’s covering the bills. We’d still be getting money too if you weren’t so proud and above it all.”
My father must’ve won the award for her to be bristling this bad. I hadn’t watched last night’s ceremonies, but the sound of awards being given out had been coming from her room. As much as I tried to avoid all information regarding him, I’d seen snippets that he was up for best artist.
Knowing what a glutton for punishment she was, she’d probably watched the red carpet leading up to them as well, where he would’ve been posing with his wife and upgraded daughter. She would’ve watched every second as they stood there posing, lights shining on their glossy matching blond hair and tall, slender forms. She’d probably recorded it to watch repeatedly.
“You know, if you’d taken that college money then you wouldn’t have all this student debt and—”
“Mom, we don’t need him or his money. I’ll get this job and it’ll all be okay.”
He’d been ordered by the court to pay for child support and then college. I didn’t want a dime from him. I’d had no say over what Mom got before I was eighteen, but he’d get no credit for anything I had a say in. It was bad enough I saw his green eyes staring back at me every time I looked in the mirror.
She was glaring at both of us now as I tried to ignore her. The last thing I’d wanted this morning was a fight.
I sipped the last of my coffee while sitting next to my grandmother, who was looking a little sharper in the eyes than she had in a while. “What’s going on, Gram?” I asked.
