Authors: Paige Dearth
“How about if you and Izzy came back to our place?” she suggested. “We live in the apartment on the top floor. You guys can get showers and sleep over tonight. How’s that sound?”
When you are living on your own and trying everything you can to make it work out, a simple offer like Alessa’s can seem a godsend. It gave Emma some hope.
“That would be great!” she said gratefully. “Oh man, I really appreciate it!” Impulsively, she gave Alessa a tight hug.
On the walk back to the Outside Inn, a house for homeless teens that Alessa and her family ran, the girls caught up on small talk. Finally Emma asked the question that had been on her mind for a long time.
“So you finally got rid of that asshole, Harlin?” she asked. “Man, when the other dancers found out what he was making you do, they couldn’t believe it. How did you manage to get away from him?”
Alessa acknowledged the truth with a silent nod. The ghost of the past still haunted her whenever she thought about Harlin.
“You know, it wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “I ran from him. I started in a shelter for women, where I met my best friend, Ebby. She’s a psychologist. But within a couple of weeks, I had to run again and was living on the streets. That’s where I met Lucy. I stripped at some shit-holes for a while to keep us going. I got lucky and met someone who helped me get back on my feet. Eventually I met Remo. After that, we started dating, fell in love, got married, and opened the Outside Inn to help other homeless people.”
Emma listened to her, awestruck at the way she had overcome the obstacles in her life since they’d last seen each other. The story made her believe that better things could be lying ahead for her as well. Emma wanted to be happy, the way Alessa was now.
Back in Alessa’s apartment, the two young women sat on the sofa together while Lucy took Izzy into her bedroom to play a board game. Remo excused himself to make the three of them coffee and get dinner started. As the night wore on, the two friends settled on the sofa with blankets.
Finally Alessa asked her, “What’s
your
story, Emma? Do you have any family who could help you out?”
As memories of Mrs. Tisdale popped into her head, Emma was overwhelmed with sadness. “No,” she replied truthfully. “Once I lost Gracie that was it. My father died when I was a teenager. The bastard beat me for as long as I could remember.”
“What about your mom?”
Emma shook her head. “Useless. A stupid woman. I wouldn’t spit on her if she were on fire.”
Alessa laughed out loud at her friend’s comment about her mother.
“I know that sounds cruel, but I hate my parents,” Emma said honestly.
Alessa leaned back into the sofa. “You don’t have to make excuses to me, Em. When I was a kid, I didn’t have anyone who had my back either. My father died a couple of years ago, but I wasn’t close to him. As for my mom, she’s a self-centered bitch I don’t talk to anymore.”
“Why?” Emma asked.
“Why what?”
“Why is your mom a self-centered bitch? I mean, my mother tore my ass up with verbal assaults, let my father beat me, and never once did anything about it. She never cared about what happened to me and Gracie. What did your mom do to make you hate her so much?” Emma asked, craving reassurance that she wasn’t the only person on earth whose parents didn’t love her.
“My mom allowed my uncle to rape me when I was seven years old,” Alessa said calmly. “It wasn’t until I was sixteen that I managed to run away. When I was old enough, I finally got up the nerve to tell her what he had been doing to me, but she practically ripped my head off. She sacrificed me so that she could continue to live without having to work, I guess. I’m not sure I’ll ever know the real reasons. Maybe she’s just fucking crazy.”
The composure with which Alessa talked about her mother made it clear to Emma that her friend had found a way to come to terms with the traumas of her childhood. She had learned to get over the fact that her mother had neglected to protect her. Alessa had moved on, and the peace and serenity Emma now saw in her friend were things she wanted for herself. It was comforting to discover that she wasn’t the only one with fucked-up parents or a rotten childhood.
The girls stayed up talking until two in the morning. Just before Alessa went into her bedroom, she turned back and said, “Hey, I know some people who manage restaurants in the city. They donate leftover food to the people who live in this building. If you’re interested, I can make a couple of calls tomorrow and see if I can get someone to talk to you about a job.”
Emma smiled, grateful that she had run into Alessa that afternoon. “That would be great! Thanks for everything.”
As she lay on the sofa waiting to fall asleep, Emma let her hope soar that she and Izzy could have a normal life. She desperately wanted a life that was free of violence and hatred.
But fate had other plans for Emma.
Emma was excited that a job interview had been set up for her that afternoon at two the next day. It was with a friend of Alessa’s, a manager at Bar 210 in Rittenhouse Square.
Camouflaging the bruises on her face with makeup, Emma walked into the restaurant, Izzy in tow, optimistic about beginning her life over. She asked to talk to the manager and looked around her as she waited. The place was upscale and trendy, the customers elegantly dressed in the latest styles. The women were well groomed and wore expensive perfume. The men were handsome and polished. It made Emma hopeful that she could earn decent tips here.
Eileen, the manager, looked Emma over as she came out to greet her. She immediately noticed the girl’s shabby clothes, but decided it hardly mattered. While working, this new employee would be wearing the required attire—black pants and a white shirt. She considered Emma’s stunning beauty as an asset and believed she would fit in just fine with their patrons. After a ten-minute conversation, Eileen decided that she liked Emma. She might be rough around the edges, but what she lacked in poise, she made up in sweetness and charm, qualities Emma had acquired from her years of working at Doubles.
“Are you a single mom?” Eileen asked now, glancing at Izzy and wondering if Emma’s kid could be a problem. She needed someone dependable, free of baggage.
“I am, but don’t worry about Isabella,” Emma replied, gesturing toward the child. “We call her Izzy. I have lots of friends who are willing to babysit her while I’m working.”
Suspecting the reason behind Eileen’s question, Emma had no qualms about lying. She really needed the job.
“Well, hello, Izzy. How are you?” Eileen said with a bright smile. “You sure do look like your mom.”
“My mommy died,” Izzy pouted.
Eileen was shocked. “Oh? I’m sorry to hear that.” She gave Emma a confused look.
“This is my niece,” Emma explained. “My sister died and I’m raising her.”
“Oh, I see. Well, you’re a very devoted aunt. I’m sorry to hear about your sister. Was she sick?” Eileen was genuinely moved.
“No, she died in a car accident,” Emma replied before quickly changing the subject. “So do you have something for me?” she went on. “I can start right away. Well, tomorrow, so that I can get Izzy taken care of.”
“Tomorrow would be great,” Eileen told her. “I’ll start you on the lunch shift, and if it goes well, I can get you on the dinner shift. The wait staff makes much better tips at night.”
Eileen handed Emma a clipboard with a job application attached. “Just fill this out and leave it with the bartender. See you tomorrow at eleven.”
When Emma finished filling out the application providing information that was mostly fabricated, she handed it to the bartender, who gave her a welcoming smile.
“Glad to have you here,” he said, hoping that she was single.
Emma smiled noncommittally. She had recognized that look, the I-want-to-get-in-your-pants stare, from her days of working at Doubles. She wanted nothing more to do with men.
With a job to start the next morning, she headed back to Alessa’s apartment to thank her. “Listen,” Alessa said, “you and Izzy are welcome to stay here for a couple of days, until you find a place of your own. Izzy can share Lucy’s room and you can sleep on the sofa.”
Emma was grateful to have Alessa as a friend. But she needed to find a place quickly and knew that it would be difficult with the couple of hundred dollars she had.
While the two young women were chatting, Izzy came into the living room.
“Aunt Emma, I’m hungry. And I want pizza,” she declared.
Twenty minutes later, Emma was parking the car on Chestnut Street, not far from where Alessa lived. She and Izzy walked up to Giovani’s Pizza.
Izzy let out a piercing squeal. “I
love
pizza!” she yelled, jumping with joy on the sidewalk and clapping her hands together.
Emma ordered two slices and took Izzy over to an open table. A few booths away, a group of unruly teenagers sat at a table. Emma had noticed them right away and gauged from the state of their clothes and their lack of hygiene that they were either homeless or came from very poor families. Their bragging about the amount of money they had made from begging that morning merely confirmed her suspicions. Then Emma overheard two of the teens yammering over their success in stealing a woman’s purse that morning when she had set it on the sidewalk to look at a shirt from a street vendor. She immediately began feeling a little nervous about Izzy’s safety around the teens. She hardly needed any more trouble. She held her breath as the disruptive group walked past to leave, each of them eyeing her up then staring at the child.
One of the girls who had been watching Emma without her being aware of it stopped abruptly at their table.
“Hey, is your name Emma?” she asked as if she knew her.
“Who the fuck are you?” Emma shot back, feeling defensive.
“You are Emma, aren’t you?” the teen asked. “It’s me! Sydney!”
Emma stared at her in disbelief, her mind racing back in time remembering Syd. The eleven-year-old who had once saved her life. Now here she was, all these years later, standing before her. Sydney was beautiful. Emma felt a tiny spark of joy light up within her once reality set in.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “Syd! Look at you, all grown up! You’re fucking gorgeous!”
Sydney snickered. “Well, I’m fifteen now. Anyway, I would have recognized you anywhere. Those green eyes are a dead giveaway and your daughter looks exactly like you.”
“I’m Izzy,” the child volunteered proudly.
The teen gave her a big smile. “Hi, Izzy. I’m Sydney.”
The rest of the group came back to see who Sydney was talking to, and Izzy moved a little closer to Emma.
“Where are Brianna and Gracie? Are they here too?” Sydney asked excitedly.
Sadly, Emma explained, “No, I’m on my own now. Brianna moved back home and Gracie died in a car accident. Izzy is her daughter.”
“Fuck, man! I’m sorry to hear that. So do you live around here now?” Syd wanted to know.
Emma blushed with embarrassment. “No, Syd. Izzy and I needed to get away from some asshole. I was living in my car for a while. Now I’m at a friend’s place, but I need to get out in a couple of days and find a place of my own. We’ll probably go back to living in the car until I can save enough money to rent an apartment.”
“No shit, that sucks! I know what it’s like,” Sydney said with genuine understanding. “Did the guy you’re running from fuck up your face?”
Emma wanted to blurt out the truth, to tell Syd everything that had happened to her. She was just so relieved to see a face from the past, from the time Gracie had still been alive.
“No,” she replied truthfully, “I got jacked up two nights ago by a gang when I was trying to take a piss in an alley. Izzy was in the car, but luckily they didn’t bother her.”
A thought suddenly struck Sydney. Telling Emma she’d be right back, she went and joined her group of friends, who were waiting a few feet away. She seemed to be discussing something with them. Then she walked back to Emma excitedly.
“My herd just agreed that you and Izzy could stay with us for a while, if you want to,” she announced. “We rent a house in Kensington. It ain’t much and the neighborhood blows, but it’s better than being on the streets. It’s a four-bedroom row home and thirteen of us share it. Rent is only six hundred a month. It’s cheap enough. If you want to stay, we’ll only charge you for one person, not the kid. It would cost you forty-three bucks a month, plus around five bucks for electricity, but we only use that at night and for cooking. What do ya think?”
Emma thought it was the best offer—the only offer—she had. At least there would be other people around and it would be less dangerous for Izzy than living in the car.
“Well, what if the other six people say no?” Emma asked, referring to the herd’s absent housemates and curious as to how a few of them could make a decision on behalf of everyone who lived in the house.
“The herd votes on everything and the majority rules,” Sydney explained. “So we’re cool. The other six won’t care, anyway. The less rent we each have to pay, the better off we all are.”
By now Emma had heard the word used often enough and couldn’t contain her curiosity. “The
herd
? What the hell is the herd?” she asked, amused.