Deserved

4.

ANDREA'S STORY......

The feeling of doubt gripped my stomach with such ferocity that I held onto the desk and reminded myself just why I was doing this. Something I had to repeat to myself every day, often more than once. This was my only chance to put food on the table and keep us alive, and being alive was something I'd never take for granted.

Never again.

I glanced down at the locket hanging around my neck, and could almost feel the arms of my little boy, wrapped around me, as he presented me with my favorite possession. Inside, was a picture of myself, a photo he'd taken at the traveling carnival, a rare treat we'd enjoyed just a year ago. The other, was a picture of my boy, Cyrus, grinning into the camera. Also a photo he'd taken. The angle of the shot made him look a little comical, but I loved how happy and fulfilled he looked here.

Almost like a normal kid.

Running my hand over the beveled pendant, I heard her footsteps and closed my eyes in anticipation. It had been a long time since I'd prayed to the God I used to trust in, but I wished for a good day. Average would work for me.

But the bile burning the back of my throat told the same story it did, every week day.

I asked myself everyday, how much longer I'd put up with working here, and the answer was always the same. Until something else came up. The recession meant that jobs around here were few and far between, and moving Cyrus again was not an option. This was his home, he had friends, a school he adored, and the beach nearby made for inexpensive days out, building sand castles and laying under the sun telling stories. He had a beautiful imagination, filled with tales of dragons, knights and princesses.

He was always my safe place. His richly spun stories lulled me as a lullaby might soothe a baby, and I often wished I could climb inside his mind and shelter there. In spite of all he'd been through, he remained this sunny, disaffected kid, always smiling and instantly lifting my spirits.

Sometimes I wondered whether it was for my benefit. I'd heard that kids are receptive, that they understand far more than we ever tell them. For his sake, I hope they are wrong.

He was, and is the air in my lungs.

And the reason why I put myself through all of this.

Vivienne Charlston slammed her Birkin handbag down onto my desk, so hard that the legs wobbled, and mine did too. She regarded me with coal black eyes, accentuated by thick, perfectly placed false eyelashes. At forty five years of age, she could quite easily pass as a thirty year old, or younger. Judging by the company she kept, even in this small town, guys my age lusted after her endless legs and perky surgically enhanced bosom. She ran her tongue over her top lip, always stained in a matte Scarlett lipstick and raised her eyebrows at me.

'I don't know why I bother. Humor me, Andrea. Tell me why I bother.'

As always, I had no idea what she was getting at, but I knew it was something I'd done, or said. It always was. There was that butter feeling in my throat again.

She rolled her eyes, impatience in her stance, her louboutin clad heel tapping the floor with agitation. Her assistant, Lisa Taylor entered the office at that moment.

Perfect timing.

As always.

'Viv told you three times yesterday that your attire needs.....addressing.'

Red faced, I looked down at my dark brown cardigan, cream shirt, and chocolate brown pencil skirt. They weren't designer brands. That much was obvious. But I'd purchased this outfit the day before, with money I barely had to spend, money I could have put towards heating our apartment for the winter. Or new shoes and school clothing for Cyrus. With blazing cheeks, I wondered whether this would get any easier. The feeling that you're not good enough, second rate, below everyone else.

The feeling I'd had for as long as I could remember.

It hadn't started here, I couldn't even pin all the blame on my ex husband. My elementary school days were a distant blur, but I knew the name calling and aggressive teasing had started then. I may not be able to recall individual moments of agony, but the over riding feeling stayed with me long after I left school.

I was different.

It wasn't something that could be boiled down to just one characteristic. Messages in my high school year book ranged from;

'Does she even talk? Is the girl mute? Hold up, I don't even know her name......'

To;

'Future cat lady and man repellent.'

I gave up trying to fit in, my patience wore as thin as their willingness to accept me and look beyond the spectacles and introverted personality. My mother tried and failed to coax me into activities such as dance lessons, or cheerleading. Once the head cheerleader in her joyous school days, she still polished her trophies daily, looking wistfully into the distance as she recalled her former glory. Head of the PTA and active in all aspects of my high school life, she did nothing to alleviate the torment I suffered.

She wasn't like me. She saw my bullies as her kin, people she once hung out with, went to parties with, and skipped class with. I was as alien to her as she was to me. She tried to mould me into her image, and I fought that all the way. I wanted acceptance, not some Sandy from 'Grease,' style transformation. I longed for her to ask me about my interests, instead of projecting her own upon me. The tension in our household was fraught, made worse by her insistence on talking so concernedly about me, whilst I was in the very same room. She and her friends would discuss in dramatic detail, how I was odd, and how they wished I could just pop on a pair of heels and a smile and join them all in their Stepford wife-like world.

My father wasn't any better.

He deduced that I must be a lesbian, a sick one at that, and packed me off to see a shrink once a week. It didn't help. It only further distanced me from my parents, who so defiantly believed that there was something wrong with me, instead of taking the time to get to know me. I spent my entire high school life floating on the periphery, and the way my folks treated me, only alienated me further.

Boyfriends were non existent.

It hadn't been in my master plan to wind up in a place like this. My mother would have loved Vivienne, they'd have been out to lunch and swapped style tips. Their fake laughter would have carried for miles.

This job had seemed like the perfect opportunity, a beacon of light at the darkest of hours.

.............

I'd walked away from my old life, with nothing more than a gym bag packed with clothing and snacks for Cyrus. Leaving behind all his toys and books, I felt guilt eating away at my gut. But I couldn't stay. Not a second longer. I'd never thought of myself as strong or courageous, but when you have a child, all of that changes. The thought of leaving Cy behind, in his fathers care, was more agonizing than I can describe. I was all he knew, and he was the one thread that I clung onto, desperately trying to drag myself back to life. We'd spent the first month traveling, the constant belief that my ex was following me, stole away my nights as I stood at motel windows convinced that he sat in the parking lot.

Waiting to snatch Cyrus.

On one sleep deprived morning, drinking stale coffee, whilst Cyrus coloured paper napkins in rainbow colours, in a diner, in yet another new town, I thought our luck had come in. The newspaper left on our table by the previous customer was left open on a page studded with job advertisements. My eyes immediately fell on the words;

'When you wish upon a star, your dreams come true.'

And my heart fluttered at the sight of those words. A Disney like dream, that your hopes and aspirations could become a reality.

My dreams were humble, but currently far from my grasp.

Star Events was a company devoted to wedding planning, but they'd recently branched out into corporate Christmas parties and birthday shin digs. The owner was currently looking for an assistant, and qualifications were not necessary. A god send for a woman who hadn't gone to college! such as myself. I clutched the star charm bracelet I'd always worn around my wrist, a present from an Aunt I'd lost many years ago, and thought it was a sign. Celestial bodies had aligned, leading me here, to this diner, to this table, and to the brightly coloured ad that practically jumped off the page. In a hurry to change our fortunes, I ripped the page out of the newspaper, throwing down crumpled notes onto the Formica surface for the hassled, over worked looking waitress and slipping coins into the pay phone, my heart lunged into my throat.

This would be my chance.

I'd need child care for Cy, but the words 'Attractive rates of pay,' spurred me on. I could take him to Disney World. We could buy a house, just the two of us, living the white picket fence dream. Everything would be okay.

And for a while, everything seemed a little too perfect.

Cerys Dunaway owned Star Events, a buzzing, upbeat business in the heart of Lincoln Cove. A place I'd never heard of before, but the feeling of contentment didn't abate. Cyrus loved the ocean, and as a temporary measure we moved into a one bedroom apartment above a dry cleaning business. Another little morsel of good luck, was meeting the woman who owned that dry cleaning business, and a bar next door.

Her name was as elusive as she was when we first met. Red Dumais. A heavy set woman with more piercings than I could count and tattooes clothing both her arms, I'd certainly never met anyone like her before. Admittedly my first instinct upon greeting her was to run at lightning speed in the opposite direction. I'd never thought of myself as prejudiced, but I came from the smallest of towns, where women wore flouncy dresses and caked on makeup. Not ink and piercings.

Red was sweet, and kind, and understanding. She was a gentle soul, with a contagious laugh and an unparalleled quick wit.

She didn't know our very delicate situation, but it was obvious to me, that she was an independent woman who had taken a few knocks in life. Cyrus instantly adored her, and she agreed to watch him for me before I even asked. I had no one else, and aside from the life saving child care, she bought me the outfit I wore to the interview that scored me my new role. I had a feeling there was more to Red than she shared, but we had this quiet respect between us, like we could see through the eyes of the other. And life hadn't been kind, for either of us. She was maternal towards me, I felt that much, and for the first time in my life I felt like this was where I was meant to be.

And then Cerys sold her beloved company.

............