Page 11 of Proposition 1

7. Cadence

My hand trembled as I dialed the number to the dinner. In all the years I had worked there, I couldn’t remember calling in a single time. We always needed the money too much for me to lose a shift since the tips I made were what kept us fed.

I stumble through the lines I rehearsed for my boss, the tremor in my voice helping add the edge of truth to me saying I didn’t feel well. His only response was a grunt, even when I said I wouldn’t be able to work tomorrow either.

“You better be in Monday or I want a doctor’s note.”

“Of course. I’m so sorr—”

He hung up before I could finish apologizing again. My stomach was in knots and I’d barely been able to sleep the night before. I still hadn’t told my brother what I was doing to get the money, and I hoped I never had to. He didn’t even know I wasn’t going to work, but I’m sure he’d notice in a couple hours when I didn’t leave at my usual time.

Crunching down on a couple more Tums, I turned on the shower and waited for it to warm up. I washed my hair, scrubbed and shaved every bit of my body, and then stood staring into the mirror.

The girl that looked back at me was pale. Her dark eyes were too plain, and her body too thin. Gazing at myself with the critical eye of someone who knows they’re going to be naked in front of a stranger, I noticed so many flaws I had to fight back tears.

Sniffling, I pulled in a deep breath and squared my shoulders. I know women tend to be more critical of themselves than anyone else, but beyond the fear of taking the stage and being bought by a stranger for the night, was the fear that no one would bid at all. That humiliation seemed worse than giving myself to someone for money.

Blowing the breath back out, I picked up my phone and turned on some music to lose myself in as I got ready. I sang along with the lyrics, refusing to acknowledge why I was being extra careful with my makeup, and why I was pulling on the slinkiest dress I could find, before covering it with a t-shirt and long skirt.

There was no way I would make it out of the house without being stopped and grilled if Momma or Michael saw me in the dress. Leo hadn’t said what to wear, but I knew my office attire and waitressing outfits wouldn’t inspire anyone’s lust, so I’d stopped at the thrift store around the corner from the office I worked at on the way home yesterday, and bought the only thing I could find in my size.

It was a skintight, bright yellow, spaghetti strap dress that ended mid-thigh. I felt like people would have to look away from it under the stage lights or risk being blinded, but there was nothing else on the rack even remotely sexy, and I hadn’t had time to go anywhere else before going to the diner for my shift.

Checking my reflection again, I pasted on a smile. It came off looking more like I was baring my teeth, and I gave up.

Glancing at the time on my phone, it felt like someone punched me in the gut. I didn’t want anyone knocking on the door and alerting my family to something strange going on, so I’d planned to wait outside, but if I didn’t get moving, I wouldn’t make it out in time.

Grabbing my purse off the bed, I paused to listen at my bedroom door before cracking it open to check the hall. I held my breath as I tiptoed down the hall toward the front door, but I stopped in my tracks when Momma turned the corner and spotted me.

“Hey, honey. I thought you’d already gone to work.”

“I, uh, didn’t have to work tonight. Boss decided to give me a Saturday off for once, so I was going to go out with a friend.”

Her brow creased when I said I had the night off, but a smile lit her face when I said I was going out.

“That’s exciting! I’m glad you’re getting the chance to go out and have fun. You and your brother are far too serious all the time. You need to get out and live a little.”

She put her hands on my shoulders and pulled me in for a hug. The guilt of lying to her was already gnawing at me, but I couldn’t tell her the truth.

Pushing me back to arm’s length, she looked me over from head to toe.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to wear to prom? Why didn’t we go get you a nice dress to wear?”

I freeze, thinking fast to come up with something as the happiness drains from her face. I don’t want to upset her by trying to correct her.

“The school is doing an informal prom, remember? We decided to donate the money usually wasted on silly dresses and just have a relaxed party instead.”

Her brow is still furrowed, but the sadness leaves it. She shakes her head a little as her hands leave my arms, but she accepts what I’ve told her. She lets out a sigh.

“Well that’s a good thing, I suppose. I just wish I’d gotten to see you get all dressed up.”

I give her a tight smile, wrapping my arms around her again. She’d hate the fact that I skipped my prom to work if she could remember. I try to appreciate the small blessings when I can.

“You will one day, Momma. I promise.”

She smiles as I let her go, giving me a peck on the cheek.

“Go! Have fun!”

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