I waited for his kindness to reveal its price.
“I’m fine,” I always replied.
He never seemed convinced, but he didn’t push.
He hired a kind nanny named Ruth, though she hardly had anything to do. Richard spent every free moment entertaining Emily himself.
I often found him crawling across the carpet while she rode on his back, both of them roaring like lions. Other times, he sat beside her tiny table, drinking imaginary tea from a plastic cup.
For a serious man in an expensive suit, he looked ridiculous.
Still, I began to smile whenever I saw them.
He sat beside her tiny table, drinking imaginary tea.
One afternoon, I sat in the kitchen after finishing my errands. My feet ached, and I allowed myself five minutes of rest. Richard appeared with a cup of tea and placed it before me.
“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” I said.
“Then consider this my rebellion.”
Slowly, I stopped seeing him as a filthy rich man who pitied me. He was simply Richard—lonely, gentle, and far too willing to let Emily decorate his gray hair with pink ribbons.
Then the phone rang.
I stepped into the pantry to answer it. It was my landlord.
“I’ve given you enough time.”
“Please,” I whispered when he told me what I already feared. “Most of my first wages went toward hospital bills and overdue payments. I can give you part of the rent now and the rest next month.”
“You said that before.”
“I have a steady job now. I just need a little time.”
“I’ve given you enough time.”
My throat tightened.
“I have a daughter. Her father just died. Please, have mercy.”
He sighed as if my desperation bored him.
“You have one month to move out. After that, I’m changing the locks.”
The call ended.
A floorboard creaked behind me.
I pressed the phone to my chest, struggling to breathe. I had fought so hard to give Emily a home, and once again, we were about to be thrown away.
A floorboard creaked behind me.
I turned.
The hallway was empty. I frowned.
