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“Tess, hello.” Helena bares her teeth in a vicious smile, then calls to a man carrying cardboard boxes up the stairs. “Don’t worry about inventorying the boxes. Just get it all packed up as soon as possible. Remember that your gratuity is based on speed.”
I drop my purse on the floor. Then pick it up again in case someone decides to throw it in a box. “You have five seconds to explain before I call the police.”
Helena examines her manicured nails. “Excellent idea. The police can certainly assist with an eviction if the tenant is unwilling to leave.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Where is my father?”
She sighs. “Stuart would prefer to distance himself from this scandal.”
“What scandal?”
“The one you created with your lack of ethics.”
“My WHAT?”
Helena whips out her phone and starts recording. “Do you have a comment on the new revelations that you’ve been embezzling campaign funds to finance your drug use?”
“My comment is that you’re fucking crazy. WHERE IS MY FATHER?”
“Tess.” He stands at the front door, dwarfing poor Miguel, who now looks like he’d like to evaporate. “For god’s sake, I can hear you screaming from the front yard.”
“Dad.” Despite everything, my first instinct is to run to him, sure that he’ll fix everything. “What the hell is she talking about? Why is my furniture being loaded into a moving truck?”
He peers down at me. The only identifiable emotion on his face is annoyance.
It disappears when he looks over my head to address Helena. “Honey, thanks for getting this started. I’ll take it from here.”
Helena is not pleased to be dismissed from the action. “Stu, I can stay and see this through.”
“HEY!” I wave my hands in the air. “Nobody has informed me what THIS is.”
“Uh, who do I give the new one to?” Miguel holds up a silver key.
My father snatches it out of his hand. “Bill my card.”
Miguel collects a bag of tools, keeps his head down and sprints away. Can’t say I blame him.
Helena flattens her hand on my father’s chest and breathes on him. “If you need me…”
I laugh my head off even though nothing is funny at all.
Helena throws an indignant glance over her shoulder. “Free ride’s over, bitch.”
Hell if I know what that means. I don’t give a damn.
My glare is reserved for my father as he kisses his asshole girlfriend and watches her strut away.
Helena has hardly stepped out the door before one of the movers jogs downstairs with a box. The box hasn’t been sealed closed and I spot books and dance competition trophies.
“Are you Fred?” I ask him.
He peers over the rim of the box. He’s older than the other guys, maybe older than my father. “Yeah, why?”
I walk over and seize the box out of his hands. At least, I try to. The box is heavier than it looks and I’m not strong. The contents come flying out. A hefty dance trophy cracks one of the French door glass panes.
“Jeez,” the guy whines, now looking at me like I just escaped from the zoo. He shakes his head and looks to my father. “You said we’re going local but you didn’t say where.”
“That depends,” my father says. “Tess, where would you like your belongings to go?”
