Page 63 of Dark, Forbidden, & Taboo

I know that I’ll never truly fit in with anyone outside of the walls of the shelter, but that doesn’t mean I can’t put some kind of effort into it.

I watch the world go by outside the bus windows again wondering if maybe I’ll finally make a lasting impression on someone besides Miss Jean.

I never cared about fitting in—I just want to be remembered.

I sigh as the bus stops and allows for passengers to get off and on, glancing at the time on the clock that sits above a bank entrance. I have thirty minutes to get there which is plenty of time. Actually, I think if the bus stays on schedule, I may get there fifteen minutes early.

Miss Jean told me that it’s better to be early than late. Even though I’ve already made my first impression on the Gastrells, the first day on the job will be the one that lasts.

Chapter

Five

“Hi!”

Anna Leigh pulls the door open after I knocked a couple of times and smiles up at me brightly and with excited eyes.

I grin down at her as I run a hand back over my hair to make sure that the short walk from the bus stop didn’t knock anything out of place.

“Hey, Anna Leigh,” I greet her cheerfully.

“Mama!” she hollers at the top of her lungs, “Meryska is here!”

My face reddens slightly at her enthusiasm. This is the first time in a long time that anyone has been this excited to see me and I can only hope that once I step inside the doors, that her mood will catch.

Mrs. G. makes her way toward the door and smiles when she sees me. She gently puts a hand on Anna Leigh’s hair and tells her to let me in.

Once inside, I take a steadying breath and force the grin to stay on my face. If I want to keep this job and have any hope of ever leaving the shelter, I’ll have to do my best to stay on everyone’s good side.

“Hey, Mrs. Gastrell,” I say shyly as I shrug off my jacket.

“Calista is fine,” she replies holding up a hand before she reaches for my jacket. “You’re almost an adult and that earns you some respect.”

The tone of her voice is pleasant, but I can’t help that I feel a little mocked. Still, I fight against my lips wanting to falter and maintain the smile on my face.

“Everett is in his office. He’s working from home today so it would be a good idea to keep these two as quiet as you can,” she says as she leads the way to their opulent living room where Anna Leigh and Maynard are playing a board game. “I’ll be gone for most of the day, but I’ll call to check in from time to time. If you can answer the phone on the first couple of rings, that would be ideal. I hate to sound like a drill sergeant on your first day, but the fewer interruptions Everett has to deal with, the more amiable he can become,” she finishes with an eye roll.

I bite my lower lip to stop myself from asking her why her husband seems to be such a miserable fuck. It’s not my place toask anything that isn’t volunteered—Miss Jean hammered that one home again before I left this morning.

“There’s plenty of food in the refrigerator,” she continues as she motions for me to follow her into the kitchen.

My eyes dart around the room as soon as we enter because it’s so big that it could be another house unto itself. It’s at this moment that I regret taking this job. It makes me feel so inadequate to be in the fancy house on Fancy Lane, but I need the money, so I know I just have to swallow my pride and get the job done to the best of my ability.

I place a hand on my stomach when she pulls the refrigerator door open. Everything inside is neatly placed but it still looks so overstocked that I know they’ve never known what it feels like to be hungry.

Miss Jean and the shelter provides for us as best as they can, most of what they can do for us comes in from community donations, but sometimes I wonder if the community forgets about us because I’ve gone to bed hungry more often than not.

That’s part of the reason I didn’t want that celebratory spread—because I know it would run through most of the food supplies we have for the rest of the month.

“The kids can have a light snack between lunch and dinner,” she says, glancing at me with a warm smile. “And you feel free to help yourself to anything you’d like.”

My stomach lets out a low growl of appreciation and I turn my face away, but Mrs. G. smiles, reaches into the fridge and pulls out an apple for me. I take it with a small nod and blink back the tears that are threatening to spill over my cheeks.

I never have breakfast, especially not after a couple of new single moms moved in with their small children. I can go without, so they don’t have to feel the hunger pains I feel sometimes.

I take a bite of the apple, wiping away the juice that runs down my chin, and nod.

Be grateful.

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