Tyler and I met Friday morning for a quick run. I had to be at Mrs. Baltic’s house by nine, then go to Smith’s. Our morning jog and the thought of going on a date the next day helped me endure the idea of cleaning, but it took everything in me to leave him. After a long kiss goodbye, he stayed to run a few more miles, and I pouted all the way to Savannah. All I wanted was to have a day to myself, to do whatever I wanted. Then guilt overrode my pity party. I couldn’t imagine how Mom yearned for a normal day, too, so I sucked it up and drove on.
I pulled into Mrs. Baltic’s driveway at nine. She stood on the step, holding the door open. The plump contours of her body pushed the seams of her pink robe. Her hair was twisted in curlers, and cheap Avon perfume mixed with the hint of mothballs rolled off her as I stepped inside. Mrs. Baltic meant well, but she required a lot of patience. She waddled behind me, while I grabbed the rags, wood polish, and toilet cleaner. Then, she followed me from room to room, talking the entire time. I’d smile and shake my head yes or no, trying not to sigh or roll my eyes (she might have caught me once), but if she asked a direct question, which was rare, I’d force myself to answer in a neutral tone. After ten minutes, I tuned her out and screamed in my head: Why don’t you clean your own house if you can follow me around?
A half hour later, she finally wore herself out and went to get a glass of tea. A twinge of guilt twisted inside of me for being annoyed. People probably thought I was too quiet, maybe even rude, but if I said what I was thinking, they would’ve despised me. Before I left, she gave me an awkward hug and handed me a check written to Mom. I said goodbye and headed across town to Mr. Smith’s.
Mr. Smith sat at the kitchen table, eyes drooping, head swaying back and forth. Drunk already and it wasn’t even noon yet. I wanted to avoid him, but he kept the cleaning supplies under the sink in the kitchen. Tiptoeing to the cabinet, I quietly gathered what I needed. I clutched them to my chest and started across the room. The bathroom was a safe place, right? If I could make it there, maybe he’d leave me alone.
“Miss, El... Elsie,” he slurred.
I stiffened and slowly turned around. “Hello, Mr. Smith.”
“You’s late again.”
“No, sir. Mom called you yesterday,” I said, inching toward the hallway. “I had to clean another house before yours.”
“Come on in here.”
I bolted to the bathroom, shut the door, and locked it. Panting, I pressed my back to the wall. He’ll fall asleep. Calm down, he’ll fall asleep. My arms shook as I set the cleaners on the counter. Get it done and get out, that was my best option.
I tried not to skimp, moving as fast as I could. I had to do a good job for Mom; her reputation was on the line. But the bathroom was nasty. I gagged three times as I scrubbed the toilet. While wiping down the counter, I had to stop and pick toothpaste out of the sink, and then I polished the faucet. His teeth sat next to the soap and cringing, I wiped around them.
The bathroom alone was worth the sixty-dollar paycheck.
Forty minutes later, I stood by the door, contemplating how to clean the kitchen. I pulled out my phone and texted Mom.
Me: Mr. Smith’s drunk. I’m a little freaked out. Do I have to clean the whole house?
Several minutes later...
Mom: Please finish. He will take a nap soon. I need the $60.
I groaned and texted her back.
Me: Seriously? I told you he’s drunk. You can keep my $10 from Baltic.
I sucked in a deep breath, walked down the hall, and grabbed the vacuum cleaner out of the closet. Ten minutes later...
Mom: How’s it going?
I ignored her until I finished vacuuming the floor. Tiptoeing toward the entrance, I glanced in the kitchen. Mr. Smith had his head cradled in his arms on the table. A gargling sound echoed from the room.
Me: He’s asleep. I’ll get it done.
Thirty-seconds later...
Mom: Thank you. Will you stop by Vaughn’s and drop off the pay checks?
Me: Sure.
She had no idea how happy I was to read that text. I’d do anything to get a glimpse of Tyler. I flew through the rest of my chores, glancing over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure Mr. Smith wasn’t lurking. Then, I returned the supplies, grabbed the check, and hustled out the front door.
After ordering a meal at Jack’s drive-thru, I drove to the Vaughns’. A chicken sandwich and a pop helped me perk up. Driving down Main Street, I turned on Riverside Drive. The estate spread several acres to the west, trumping every other house near them. Tyler’s Mercedes was parked in front of the garage. I slowed to give myself time to calm the butterflies in my stomach.
The driver’s side door of Tyler’s car opened. He stepped out. I rolled a little closer, feeling a bit like a creepy stalker. He walked around the front of the car, opened the passenger’s side door, and offered his hand. A beautiful, blonde woman stepped out beside him.
Who the hell was that? My stomach flipped, threatening to reject the chicken sandwich. I pulled over on the side of the road and watched.
She stood a few inches shorter than Tyler, golden hair spilling over her shoulders, dark jeans covering the entire heel of her spiky pumps. She carried an oversized handbag that annoyingly matched her printed blouse. She turned my way and I gasped. Absolutely stunning. Jealousy consumed me. They followed the sidewalk toward the front steps, his arms wrapped around her shoulder. She leaned closer to show her affection and he squeezed her close. Ever the gentleman, he pulled the front door open, holding it for her, and then they stepped inside.
I wiped away the tears clouding my eyes and texted Mom.
Me: I don’t feel good. Ate a nasty chicken sandwich. Gotta go home.
I waited for her to answer, tears streaming down my face. A beep alerted me to a text.
Mom: Okay. I’ll run home before I go to the hospital.
Me: Thanks.
Attempting a U-turn, I couldn’t get the car turned around without backing up. Forward then backward. Rage boiling inside, I slammed the little Honda on drive and stomped the gas.
I had to get away from that house.
Who was she? I was an idiot to think I could have a guy like him. Filthy rich, dressed in designer clothes even when jogging, Tyler’s world was light-years beyond mine, a world I’d never belong in. Why had I gotten close to a guy so out of my class? Of course, he had girls breaking down the door. That woman looked incredible. Not a hair out of place, her ensemble perfect, accentuated by proper posture, she practically floated when she walked. And the way he put his arm around her! Who was she?
I followed Coffee Landing Road into Morris Chapel. At the last second, I whipped the wheel to the right, pulling into Ruby and Woodrow’s driveway. I turned off the car and looked in the rear-view mirror.
Ugh, I thought. I looked like a peasant.
Ripping my hair out of my ponytail, I moved it around to cover my red face.
When I walked up to the front porch, Woodrow sat in his chair, picking ticks off his dog, Ranger. He’d pull the insects off and throw them down, popping their swollen bodies with the toe of his boot into a bloody mess on the decking. Ruby stood at the screen door.
“Hey, y’all okay?” she asked, wiping her hands on her blue apron.
“Your daddy all right?” Woodrow asked.
“Yeah, everyone’s fine.” I sounded pathetic.
“You’re upset about something,” Ruby said, stepping outside and letting the screen door slam. “What’s the matter, honey?” She wrapped her arm around me. “Come over here and sit.”
She pointed to the swing and we walked across the porch and sat down. She pushed the swing back and forth with her toes.
“You want some tea?” she asked, then she shouted, “Woodrow get us some tea, an’ quit pickin’ them ticks off that ole’ dog.”
“It’s okay, Ruby,” I said. “I don’t need anything.”
“Now,” she said, ignoring my comment, “you sit here and tell me what’s on your mind.”
She turned in the swing so she could look at me. Woodrow attempted to stand several times before his legs cooperated, and then he limped inside.
“Ruby, I’ve met a boy,” I said, starting to cry.
She sat up straight. “Y’all ain’t pregnant, is you?”
“No way! He’s... I saw him with someone else.”
“Mm, hmm.” She eyed me. “Who’s this boy belong to?”
“I can’t say yet,” I said. “I’m sorry, Ruby. I haven’t told Mom. Please don’t tell her.”
“Mm,” she hummed. “I won’t. He’s not hurtin’ you, is he? I mean, physically?”
“Oh, no. He’s not like that, he’s... he’s too good for me.”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” she blurted. I flinched. “I’ve never heard such nonsense in my life. Nobody’s too good for you. You’re the finest girl in Hardin County.”
“Gee, thanks, Ruby,” I said, dryly.
“Okay, that’s not a good example. In the whole state of Tennessee, then. Any boy would be lucky to have you as his girl. What’s got you thinkin’ this way?”
“I saw him with a beautiful girl.” I shook my head. “No. She’s a woman... I don’t know what to think. I’m supposed to go out with him tomorrow night, but now, I don’t know.”
Woodrow returned with sweet tea in each hand. I said thank you. He went back to his chair and started picking ticks off the dog again.
“Miss Elsie,” Ruby said, “don’t go gettin’ ahead of yourself. You don’t know what you saw. Go out, have a good time, and ask him about her. That’s all it takes. Now, more importantly, why haven’t you told your momma?”
I stared at my glass. “Um, she’s not going to be happy about it,” I said, and then I looked at her and smiled. “He met Dad yesterday, though.”
“How’d y’all do that when your momma don’t know?”
“We went in the afternoon when she was at work. He asked if he could go to the hospital and see Dad because he might not get another chance, so after our jog—”
“Jog!” she squawked. “When did you start jogging?”
“Early July.” I shrugged, and then I told her about us going to the hospital.
“I never thought they’d get a chance to talk.” I slumped back in the swing. “Oh, Ruby... he said the sweetest things, and then I had to see him today with that Victoria’s Secret model.”
“You need to tame this crazy imagination of yours.” She waved her hand at me. “If that boy is willing to go talk to your daddy, I think he deserves a chance to explain.” Ruby bobbed her head once as if to put a period at the end of her sentence, and then she sealed it with another opinion. “Sounds like good people to me.”
She put her arm around me and I let her squeeze me close.
“Thanks, Ruby.”
“You need to go on home,” she said. “Take a long shower and a good look in the mirror. I don’t ever want to hear you say you’re not good enough again. Understood? You’re a beautiful, smart, and talented girl. If a boy can’t see that, he’s as blind as that ole’ dog over there.”
“Thank you for listening.” I said, giving her a hug.
“All right, you go on now.” She patted my back. “And cheer up.”
I said goodbye and headed home. Ruby always made me feel better, but I was nervous I’d told her about Tyler. I’d gotten too bold. I had to end the lie before it blew up in my face.