CHAPTER 8 JESSALYN
JESSALYN
By the time we reached Northern Virginia, the leak from the radiator had turned into more of a waterfall. The last time I’d stopped for gas—and more coolant—I’d returned from the bathroom to find a lake spreading beneath the car. We weren’t going to get much farther.
In Maryland, a mechanic had quoted over a thousand bucks to fix the problem, which was most of the money I had left.
When I balked at the price, he’d stared at my breasts and suggested that maybe we could work out an alternative method of payment, and I decided I’d rather walk to North Carolina than accept his offer.
And it might come to that. I couldn’t afford the repairs, not if I wanted to eat as well.
Shiro’s food wouldn’t last forever either.
In Pennsylvania, Rufus’s wife had petted him and sent us on our way with a bag of treats and a bunch of kibble samples, but he was a big dog with the stomach to match. I needed to earn some money, and fast.
I had no résumé, no reliable vehicle, and no references.
All I had was a phone, a hungry dog to feed, and desperation.
And Craigslist. I’d never used the site before, but before she moved, Saylor had bought and sold plenty of stuff on there, plus she used the jobs listings to pick up extra part-time work when money was tight.
Oh, and her former neighbours had answered a Craigslist ad to appear on Love Lab, a reality show to find America’s most perfect couple.
Now they were getting divorced. Lucky them.
We ended up in another grocery store parking lot, busy enough that I felt safe, quiet enough that I didn’t have to worry about nosy shoppers judging me for living in my car.
I tried to keep it tidy, but between the blankets in the passenger seat and the bottles of water stacked in the footwell, I knew what they’d think.
Thank goodness for the tinted windows in the back.
Sharing the seat with Shiro was a tight squeeze, but he helped to keep me warm, and his presence was comforting, although I felt guilty for using him as an emotional crutch in a less-than-ideal situation.
“One day, I’ll be able to give you the life you deserve,” I promised. He just licked my cheek in response.
Another advantage of being at the grocery store was the family restroom.
Over the past couple of days, I’d learned how to clean up quickly with wet wipes, and I’d even managed to wash my hair in the sink, but I’d still have sold my soul for a real shower.
Funny how you missed the little things, wasn’t it?
Never again would I take having an actual bathroom for granted.
Fluffy towels. A blow-dryer. My thick red hair took hours to dry naturally, which was no joke in this weather.
I’d googled plenty about living in cars, and most of the folks who managed it successfully paid to join a local gym and shower there, but I was determined to avoid this becoming a permanent thing.
And not one of the “I’ve lived in my SUV for three years and you can too” folks was sharing the vehicle with an oversized furball.
Shiro’s hair got everywhere. In every crack, in every crevice.
I scrolled through the job ads on Craigslist, and there were plenty of folks willing to pay cash for servers, hosts, prep cooks, and dishwashers.
It quickly became apparent that finding work wouldn’t be my most troubling issue.
When I flipped over to the housing section, almost every place I could afford stated “No pets.” A house with a yard was out of my price range, and the cash I’d hidden under the floor mats was dwindling fast because I had to buy precooked, prepackaged food.
Finally! A female-only house-share that accepted dogs, and according to the map app, it was only five miles from here. I’d make it there on a pint of coolant. My fingers dialled so fast that I sprained a muscle.
“Hi, I’m calling about the room on Craigslist.”
“Oh, sure.” That was a nasty cough she had. Sounded as if she were hacking up a lung. “Hundred bucks a week. Includes utilities, but no lights or TV after eight p.m. We’re tryna keep the costs down.”
“Uh, okay.”
“And no guests.”
“I’m new to the area, so I don’t have anyone to invite over, but I do have a dog. The ad said dogs are okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, but if you’re bringing a mutt, you gotta do extra chores. The vacuuming, washing the floors…” More coughing. “The dusting, cleaning the bathroom, scrubbing the stove, the oven… Wait, the oven broke. The windows need a wash too, but don’t worry, it’s a first-floor apartment.”
“So I have to do all the chores? They’re not shared?”
“You do if you want to bring a pet. They make a heck of a lot of mess, trust me.”
“My dog doesn’t use the stove.”
“You want the room or don’t ya? What kinda dog is it?”
“I’m not totally sure. Maybe a German shepherd crossed with a mastiff?”
“A German shepherd? Those are huge, right? I was thinking more of a chihuahua. Or one of those little things with the curly hair.”
“A miniature poodle?”
“Yeah, that’s it. A poodle. A German shepherd’s way too big.”
“Well, that’s what I have.”
“No, it won’t work. You’ll have to get something smaller.”
“A dog isn’t a purse. It’s a living, breathing creature with its own personality. You can’t just swap it out for a different size because that’s more convenient.”
“I don’t much care for your attitude, missy.”
“And I don’t much care for yours.”
She hung up before I did, and I sucked in a breath. Wow. That had been a lucky escape. After years spent tiptoeing around my own home, the last thing I wanted was another awkward living situation.
“We might be staying in the car forever, boy.”
Shiro gave my ear a delicate lick. From the first day he’d found me crying, he’d always tried to comfort me. Swap him for a poodle? Was that woman crazy?
I moved to the next property on the list, one that didn’t say that pets were allowed, but also didn’t say that they weren’t. Maybe I’d get lucky? Female wanted for apartment-share in Manassas, no bills, modern kitchen, off-street parking, use of all facilities. A hundred bucks a week.
“Hi, I’m calling about the ad posted on Craigslist.”
“Cool.” Hmm. It was either a guy or a woman with a really deep voice. “Tell me more about yourself.”
“Uh… So, I just arrived in Virginia, and I’m looking for a place to live. Your ad didn’t say, but do you allow dogs?”
“Are you single?”
The relief at being able to answer “yes” was indescribable, although the idea of sharing an apartment with a man left me twitchy after my experience with Ridge.
But perhaps a purely platonic arrangement would be okay?
More of a business relationship? Money in exchange for a roof over my head and polite conversation in the kitchen.
“Yes, I’m single, but I do have a large dog. He’s very well-behaved, though, and he could stay in my room rather than roaming in the communal areas.”
“The dog’s fine, but you wouldn’t actually have your own room. If you want, you can sleep on the couch until you’re comfortable enough to share the bed.”
I’m sorry, what? “Share the bed?”
“It’s a king-size. You get half the closet as well, two-thirds if you ask me nicely. Can you cook?”
This time, I hung up first and then stared at the phone in disgust. It was tempting to dunk it in hand sanitiser, just in case pervert-cooties could spread electronically.
He wanted me to share his freaking bed? Living in the car seemed more appealing with every passing minute.
If another man answered, I’d save my breath and hang up right away.
The next room had been rented already, and the one after that, and the one after that.
I checked the dates—the ads had only been up for a day or two.
Was the housing market really that tough?
Any place that wasn’t owned by a cranky poodle fan or a pervert got snapped up within hours?
Years had passed since I last rented. Before I met Ridge, I’d shared a third-floor apartment in Brunswick while I studied at the University of Maine.
A major in food science and human nutrition with a minor in management.
In those days, I’d dreamed of owning a restaurant, but that dream had been shattered in the last month of my second year.
On a Tuesday. A lovely, sunny Tuesday when my whole life fell apart.
I tried the next ad. A definite “no” to dogs.
The woman went so far as to tell me she hated them.
Mangy, noisy creatures, she said, and I was glad Shiro had a limited understanding of the English language because his hearing was excellent.
Three more rooms were unavailable, and my phone battery was getting low.
The next place was more than I could afford at two hundred bucks a week, and also a little far away near Warrenton, but I was desperate.
“Hi, I’m calling about the ad on Craigslist. Is the room still available?”
“Yes…” There was a “but” coming, I could tell. “But somebody called right before you did, and they’re coming to view it at three.”
Dammit. I’d missed out by minutes, and the property looked lovely in the photos.
And it was an actual house with a yard rather than an apartment.
I tried to convince myself that it was for the best, that it would be harder to find work in the suburbs than in the centre of town, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment.
“Just out of interest, if it was still available, would you allow pets?”
“What sort of pets?”
“A dog.”
“Oh, I love dogs. So does Mandy.”
“Mandy?”
“One of my roommates. She’s a vet tech.”
“He’s quite big.”
“When I was growing up, we had boxers. Is he a boxer?”
“More of a German shepherd cross. Maybe part mastiff? He was a stray, so his parents are a mystery.”
“Mandy volunteers at the animal shelter on the weekends, and sometimes she brings home a puppy to foster. They’re so cute, but boy, are they hard work. The last one dug holes all over the yard.”
“The landlord didn’t get upset?”
“Not really.” She gave a tinkly giggle. “The landlord is my parents, and what they don’t know won’t hurt them, right? My dad took a job in Alaska, but they want to move back here when he retires, so I’m kind of house-sitting. We just filled in the holes and sprinkled grass seed over the top.”
This place sounded perfect, and I felt slightly sick. If only I’d called the number on this ad first, I could have saved a whole bunch of heartache and also not had a sleazeball invite me to be his sex doll.
“My boy went through a digging phase, but he’s over it now, thank goodness.
” Ridge had been so annoyed by the holes.
His mouth set the way it always did when he got angry, and that had been the first time he threatened to dump Shiro at the shelter.
“Plus he’s attended training classes. If the person doesn’t take the room, do you think you might be able to call me back?
I’ve just moved to the area, and it’s hard finding a place that allows dogs. ”
“Kendra—my other roommate—has a goldfish, and most landlords wouldn’t even let her keep that. There’s so much prejudice against pets these days, which is super sad because they’re family too.” A sniffle. “We have rose bushes in the yard, one for each of the pets we’ve lost.”
“That sounds like a lovely idea.”
“Are you living near Warrenton at the moment?”
“I’m in Leesburg, but I’m not attached to the area. I need to find a new job as well.”
“There’s plenty of work in this area if you aren’t fussy.
Kendra’s brother runs a bar, and he’s been short on waitstaff for months.
” A pause. “I probably shouldn’t do this, but you know what?
If you can pay a security deposit and the first month’s rent in the next half hour, I’ll tell the other girl not to come.
She sounded kinda princessy, you know? Like she was too good for chores. You don’t mind sharing chores, do you?”
“Not at all, but I don’t think I can get to Warrenton in a half hour.”
In fact, I knew I couldn’t. I’d already checked the distance on the map, and it was at least an hour away. More if the engine overheated again. Plus I needed to use the bathroom and top off the coolant first, and Shiro would need a potty break before another journey.
“That’s no problem—just use PayPal. Or Venmo. Or Cash App. I can take any of those.”
“I only have actual cash. My bank account… It was a joint one, and the relationship didn’t end well. I’m starting over.”
“I’m real sorry to hear that.”
“If I leave right away, I could be in Warrenton by two thirty.” Hopefully.
“How about Western Union? I wish I could be more trusting, but I already had one no-show, and I need to make sure my parents’ mortgage gets paid this month.”
“I…I’ve never used Western Union before.”
Ridge had always taken care of the finances, and before that, Mom had helped me out.
“It’s super easy—all you have to do is show your ID, then give them the cash and my details. I can text you with those. I’m Tiffany, by the way, but the account is in my dad’s name.”
“And I’m Jessalyn. Could you also send me the address of the house?” Agreeing to a rental without seeing the place was a risk, but it was also my best chance of finding a new home. “And do you have any more pictures?”
“I have plenty. What do you want to see?”
“The kitchen and the yard?”
“Do you like cooking?”
“I love it.”
“In that case, I really hope you take the room because Kendra burns everything.”
The photos arrived a minute later, a dozen of them, and holy crap, the yard even had a pool.
The kitchen was stunning—antique-finished sage-green units with marble counters and stainless-steel appliances.
It looked like a model home. There were even fresh flowers on the windowsill.
Tiffany had included extra pictures of the available room, and it came with an en-suite and a walk-in closet.
I’d have to live on ramen until I managed to get my first paycheck, but I couldn’t afford to pass up this chance at a new life.
Maybe the other girls wouldn’t mind letting Shiro out occasionally so I could work extra hours?
I’d be happy to repay the favour by cooking.
For the first time since I left Maine, I saw a glimmer of sunshine.
The map app showed me that the house itself was set on an oversized lot in a nice development with trails meandering through a forest to the rear and a park nearby. No wonder Tiffany’s parents wanted to return for their retirement.
I quickly sent her a message.
Me
I’m going to the Western Union office right now! Is it okay if I come over after that?
Tiffany
Can you do 7 pm? That would work better for me.
Me
Sure!
“We can sleep in a proper bed tonight, boy. No more car seat.”
Shiro tilted his head to one side.
“How do you feel about swimming?”
He didn’t seem so enthusiastic, but I couldn’t hold back my smile. Screw you, Ridge. I can do this on my own.