“No problem, beautiful. Feel like making a man’s evening and having a little fun in the process?”
“That’s my daughter, Mitch.” Her mother’s venomous voice sliced through the air like a snake strike.
“Easy, Cindy. Just having a chat with the young lady. Didn’t realize she was yours.” He leaned close. “What a shame.” Then he walked off.
The exchange made her skin crawl. It also reaffirmed her belief that her only hope for the life she wanted to make for herself laid far east of the state line.
Cindy stepped inside, letting the screen door slam shut so hard the glass panel rattled dangerously. Grace knew then she’d have to get in and out of the house as fast as possible if she wanted to avoid a confrontation.
She paused on the stoop, the smell of fresh cigarettes and whiskey wafting from the house. Damn it. Her mom was on the hard stuff again. That meant she was probably dabbling with drugs, too. How the woman passed the random drug screening at the factory was beyond Grace’s comprehension.
Shoring up her emotional strength and pulling indifference around her like a protective cloak, she stepped inside the house.
Two weeks and counting. She could do anything for two weeks knowing freedom lay on the other side of this, her personal perdition.
Cindy sat sprawled on the couch in a dirty T-shirt and a pair of men’s boxers. Her nails, thick and yellowed from smoking, were short and uneven. Dark roots showed where her long hair was parted, affirming blond wasn’t her natural color. As if the burned ends didn’t say it all.
“Stop staring.” She took a long draw on her cigarette, eyeing Grace carefully. “Where’d you get the money for those new clothes?”
“I had some money left over from my last work-study job.” Grace started through the living room, stepping around scattered pizza boxes, beer bottles and—ew—a condom wrapper. She couldn’t help it. She glanced over and arched a brow. “Safe sex, huh? Your idea or his?”
“Mitch is a total wuss. Said he had to have the condom or no sex, so condom it was.” Cindy’s eyes narrowed and her mouth thinned into a mean, harsh line. “Right here on the sofa, Grace. Does that offend you, your highness? Huh, Miss Prim-and-Proper?”
She didn’t slow down as she answered. “You can do whatever you want with your body wherever you want to do it.”
Cindy stubbed out her cigarette. “Don’t judge me, you little bitch. You ain’t worth nothing. Never been good for anything but ruining my life.”
Numb. Have to stay numb. “I’m not saying a word.”
“You think you’re so much better than us common folk since you went and got an education. But that piece of paper don’t change the fact you came from common, you are common and you’ll always be common.”
Grace continued on to her bedroom without responding, opening her door and slipping inside.
Something glass hit the door behind her and shattered, the strong smell of liquor wafting up from the floor.
That’s when the shakes started.
Maybe she wasn’t as numb as she’d thought, or hoped, she was. It had been a long time since her mother had been conscious enough while Grace was home to be malicious, but Cindy was clearly aware enough to go there tonight.