Chapter 10
The leaden sky matched Vic’s mood perfectly. What am I doing? she wondered yet again as she walked home Friday night after her fifth shift—if that’s even what she should call it. Community hours or something would be more accurate.
Yes, Madeline had welcomed her and trained her like she was a legitimate employee—and yet, she’d also been very clear that after Vic had worked the two weeks that Gwen was away, her debt would be more than covered.
Vic wondered if that was because Madeline already wanted to be done with her.
She wouldn’t blame her. It was strange to think that even if she stuck it out, she was already half done.
If she stuck it out.
Where had that thought come from?
It was two weeks of her life to restore her self-respect—or at least keep it from plummeting any further. She was going to stick with it, wasn’t she?
She was.
Yeah, right, muttered a familiar snide voice in her ear. Seeing things through, being consistent and trustworthy . . . not exactly your skill set, is it?
“I like the work though,” she muttered aloud, not worrying one whit that she might look like a crazy person. Who’d hear her, the trees? The recycling bins all set out in orderly rows for their Saturday morning collection?
More like you like the shiny, pretty things and we all know why—and don’t kid yourself. Madeline knows why, too. She might take off for an hour or two here and there, but she’s watching you.
Vic didn’t actually have evidence of Madeline’s surveillance, but it had to be true, right?
She hadn’t taken anything, though. She really hadn’t.
You will though.
Vic grimaced, then, with a start, realized she was home. Her pace slowed, and she plodded the final steps to the door. Her inner back-and-forth was abandoned, replaced by a more nagging question. Was there any chance at all that Audra might be in a decent mood?
“Well, look at that,” Audra announced as if speaking to an audience the moment Vic opened the backdoor. “Look who’s finally blessing us with her presence. Miss High and Mighty herself.”
Vic sighed and pulled off one of her boots, her question about the chance of Audra being in a good mood answered in full. No chance. No chance, at all.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Don’t ‘hey, Mom’ me. I know what you’re doing!”
“Well, at least one of us does,” Vic said—then regretted her rare moment of cheekiness as it launched a diatribe about Vic’s ingratitude and how she was using Audra for her home. Vic’s stomach tightened painfully because while it wasn’t totally true, it also wasn’t entirely untrue.
A few months back, in a rare bout of vulnerability on the phone, Audra mentioned she was feeling poorly and having a hard time getting around.
“You wouldn’t consider coming to help me out?
” she’d asked, then just as quickly snipped, “No, no, of course you wouldn’t.
You couldn’t possibly. You’re busy with your oh so important life. ”
As far as a request for help, it was pretty restrained—but then again, for Audra, it was also a pretty restrained insult about Vic’s life.
Vic decided that Audra mentioning weakness in any capacity meant it must be at least slightly serious, but there was also no denying the timing was helpful.
She had nowhere else to go and she needed to sort out her life.
Needed to stop, as her mom would so lovingly say, jumping from one guy to the next.
Not that that had ever been Vic’s intention.
The opposite was true, in fact. As pathetic as it was, all she wanted was someone to love her as much as she loved them. Forever. It just never seemed to stick.
Vic made dinner—pre-packaged chicken Cordon Bleu, steamed broccoli, and rice. She must not have put enough water in the rice cooker, though. The rice wasn’t quite plump enough and there was a crunch to the grains that wasn’t quite right.
She and Audra watched NCIS, something they could actually agree on: the show was great. Vic would’ve been happy to watch a second episode, but Audra announced, “I’m exhausted. I can’t handle these late nights anymore.”
Vic didn’t blame her and even though it was barely 9:00, she knew what Audra meant.
It had gotten dark early, barely an hour after Vic got home, and a steady rain was falling from low, heavy clouds.
There was something about this kind of weather that made the dark even darker, like it sucked all the light out of everything.
It did feel late. And Vic felt exhausted too.
Was this her life now? 9:00 pm was late?
She almost felt bad about it, except the prospect of her warm bed and a book felt so luxurious.
Audra completed her bedtime rituals quickly and settled into her room in record time.
“Do you need anything before I turn in? Would you like a cup of tea or something?”
“Thank you, but no, I’ll be fine. Have a good night, Victoria.”
You could’ve knocked Vic over with a feather. Audra had said thank you and wished her a good night. Maybe high above all those dark clouds, there was a blue moon.
“Night, Mom.”
“Night, sweetie.”
What was happening? Vic went about her own evening ablutions feeling oddly unsettled—more so than if Audra had been her typical short-tempered self.
It was sad, really. Who is more comfortable with someone being angry and rude than when they’re peaceful and polite?
Someone who knows the axe is going to fall and the calm is just a ruse, that’s who.
Remembering her ensuite upstairs was low on toilet paper before she headed upstairs, Vic went to the hall bathroom to grab a couple rolls. Stepping into the bathroom, she froze. Her stockinged feet were suddenly soaked. What the—
She flicked on the light and stared down in dismay. A thin pool of water surrounded the base of the toilet and was slowly spreading across the floor. That wasn’t good. Not at all.
She pulled down a towel and sopped up most of the water, but it was an exercise in futility. Water was leaking in earnest from where the toilet met the floor.
Thank goodness Audra had gone to bed. She wouldn’t have to deal with her mother and the toilet at the same time.
But what should she do? Cal flashed in her mind.
Was there any chance he’d answer on a Friday night?
He was probably cozied up at home watching movies with his wife and kids or something.
Her brain snagged on that for a moment, imagining the big bear of a man with three dark curly-haired peas-in-a-pod children and a doting Snow White of a wife.
She wrung the towel out over the bathtub and laid it down at the base of the toilet again. She didn’t want the water to leak into the hallway and seep into one of the hand-knotted wool runners. Audra would have a fit.
That decided it. She’d call Cal. Worst-case scenario, he wouldn’t answer. At least she’d be able to truthfully tell Audra she’d tried to get someone after hours.
Turns out she was wrong. The worst-case scenario was that Cal would answer the phone sounding incredibly angry at someone named Carrie—the someone he thought was calling him. His wife, maybe?
“I’m sorry.” Vic tried not to stammer. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
There was silence from the other end of the line. Then, “Who is this?”
A better question was who did he most not want it to be? She had been calling his company a lot lately. But she couldn’t lie. That would be extra weird. And he probably had call display. Didn’t he have call display?
“It’s Vic.”
“Vic!”
She could hear but couldn’t understand the exclamation point he said behind her name. He didn’t sound angry anymore, but it’s not like he’d be pleased . . .
“I’m sorry to call so late, but my toilet’s leaking.”
“Well, that’s not good.”
“No.”
Another long silence.
“It’s Friday night.”
“Yeah, I know, and I’m sorry,” she half mumbled, half babbled, “and you probably don’t do evening calls unless it’s a big emergency, but my mother . . . if I can spare myself her knowing about this, I’ll pay you double.”
“Is she awake?”
“No, went to bed close to an hour ago.”
“Will she wake up all of a sudden?”
Vic smiled and shook her head. “Nope. She takes a sleep aid.”
“Okay, I’ll come over. Give me twenty minutes.”
“Thank you,” Vic whispered, shocked that she’d been so candid about wanting to avoid Audra’s wrath. It took her a second to realize she’d thanked dead air. Cal had already ended the call.