Page 61 of Dark, Forbidden, & Taboo

“Oh my!” Mrs. G. exclaims when she sees all of the designs that almost completely cover my arms. I never did get a chanceto get my sleeves finished cause the guys moved and I never knew where to find them next. Besides, I’ve grown up since then and I don’t know if they’d still trade me some diddling for ink.

“Hope these won’t be a problem,” I say nervously.

“Not at all!” she exclaims quickly, “I’m just a little shocked that you’re only seventeen with all of that work already. Do they have any meaning?”

Just that I need a place to sleep.

“Not really,” I lie with a shrug as I look down at my arms. “I guess you could chalk it up to being a bored kid.”

Mr. G. clears his throat and I look up at him expectantly, but he just continues to stare at me with his damn Medusa eyes and offers nothing in the way of words.

“Everett doesn’t talk much if you can’t tell,” Mrs. G. offers dryly.

I smile at her because it’s obvious that she’s trying her best to not let his silence unnerve me.

“Well, do you have any references? One is fine if that’s all you have,” she says getting to her feet. I nod as I reach for my jacket and pull Miss Jean’s phone number out of my pocket. I hand it to her and notice how clean and manicured her nails are as opposed to my dirty chipped ones. She doesn’t seem to notice and if she does, she doesn’t show it.

“I’ll be right back,” she promises with a warm smile.

Great. Left in silence with someone who obviously doesn’t want me around.

I let out a sigh as I sit back on the couch and cross a leg over my lap, trying to make the best out of an awkward situation.

Chapter

Three

Mr. G. keeps staring at me.

When I look up and meet his eyes, though, he turns his face away—almost as if he’s trying to decide if this entire facade is a waste of his time.

It’s nothing at all like when Mrs. G. was in the room and I can’t help but wonder if there’s something he wants to say to me. He looks a little bored with the entire thing, but I know betterthan to ask prodding questions—Miss Jean prepped me for this interview by giving me the dos and don’ts.

Do speak when spoken to, don’t ask intrusive questions.

Those are the two that I repeated to myself on the bus ride over and the ones that I’m trying to hold on to because I feel that they’re the most respectful. Plus, I didn’t really listen to much else of what she said.

I hear Mrs. G.’s laughter ringing somewhere in the house and it makes me smile. It also makes me wonder how two obviously opposite personalities attracted to the point of marriage, but honestly, by now I’m willing to bet that it has to do with how beautiful they both are.

Some strange unwritten law of nature where beauty begets beauty.

“Your name is Meryska?”

I startle.

I was convinced up to this point that Mr. G. couldn’t speak, though it seems now that he just chose not to.

“Yup!” I confirm as brightly as I can.

“Hm.”

“What?” I ask, wrinkling my nose.

“Huh? Oh. Nothing, I’ve never heard it before today is all,” he responds reasonably.Right,I think with an internal eye roll as I nod and push my hair behind my ears. Just to be able to break the gaze he has on me, I look down at my nails wondering when I’ll be able to talk Miss Jean into helping me fix them up. They never bothered me before, but after seeing Mrs. G.’s I feel kind of inadequate.

“Oh,” I mumble distractedly.

God, I really need to clean these damn things.

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