CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Jackson
“Jackson, these pages you emailed this morning are amazing,” Rosetta said, her face as large as life on the computer screen on my desk. She looked at me over the top of her glasses and frowned. “But are you sure this is the story you want to write?”
I shrugged at her. “Why wouldn’t I?”
She blew out a long sigh. “The story is just so…”
“Personal?”
“Yes.”
“It’s my story, Rose,” I said. “Who better to write it than me?”
She gave me a nod. “Well, this is an excellent start to the outline. I’ll send these pages over to the publisher today. When do you think you can have the rest of the outline?” She glanced away from the webcam to look at her desk calendar. “The deadline to have the full outline is on Monday. That gives you three days.”
“I’ll have it to you in plenty of time,” I said confidently. “Like I said before, the story is already written in my head. It won’t take me long to do the full outline.”
“Jackson, I’m so relieved,” she said with a smile. “I have to tell you, I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’ve been a little worried about myself, Rose,” I said with a smile. “But I have a feeling everything is going to be all right from now on.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you. I’ll chat with you soon. Keep up the good work.”
“I will. Chat soon,” I said.
I closed the Skype window and immediately called up the outline I’d worked on all night.
I read over the dozen pages I’d written without making a single change.
I rested my fingers on the keys and closed my eyes.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
I opened my eyes and began to type.
* * *
It was almost five o’clock when I emerged from my office. I had gotten so wrapped up in my work that I’d forgotten to eat lunch. My stomach growled as I came into the kitchen.
“Hi, girls,” I said. Lizzie was in her high chair at the table. She threw up her hands and squealed at me when I came into the room. I leaned down to give her a kiss on the head and then went to the fridge for a soft drink.
I opened the refrigerator door and did a double take. The fridge was just as empty as it had been that morning. I glanced at Amy Lynne, who was standing at the stove, dishing vegetable soup into bowls. Two empty cans were on the counter.
“Hey, didn’t you go to the grocery store today?” I asked, my arm hanging over the door. “Wasn’t Coke on the list?”
She didn’t look at me. She filled two bowls with soup and carried them to the table. She set one bowl on my side of the table and the other in front of Lizzie, just out of reach.
“Careful, it’s hot,” Amy Lynne said quietly. She spooned out some soup and blew a cooling breath over it. Lizzie opened her mouth like a little bird and waited for the soup to cool. Amy Lynne dished the soup into her mouth and Lizzie smacked her lips.
“Amy Lynne?” I closed the refrigerator door and sat at the table across from her. “Is everything all right?”
She glanced up at me as if she hadn’t realized I was there. “Huh? Yes. Sorry. No, we didn’t make it to the store today.”
I noticed that she wouldn’t look directly at me. Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying. She cooled another bite of soup for Lizzie.
“But you were gone for a couple of hours,” I said. “I thought you were at the store. Where did you go?”
She cut her eyes at me. “Is this how it’s going to be? Are you going to question me every time I leave the house?”
I blinked at her. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
“Just stop questioning me,” she snapped. “I’m not a child. I don’t have to report to you!”
She dropped the spoon into the bowl and pushed it toward me. Soup slopped out onto the table.
“I’m sorry. I just wondered where you were this afternoon,” I said, doing my best to keep a level head. “Lizzie was with you, so I feel like I have a right to know where you were.”
Amy Lynne slowly brought her eyes up to meet mine. They were full of tears. She wiped the back of her hand under her nose.
“Why did you hire me?” she asked.
“Why did I hire you?”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “Why did you hire me?”
“To take care of Lizzie.”
“You hired me to fuck you, didn’t you?” She glared at me and gritted her teeth. “I’m not a whore.”
That one took me by surprise.
Christ, why were women so fucking confusing?
You fuck them one time and it’s like they think they have a license to go bat shit crazy on you when you ask a simple question. What. The. Fuck.
“Of course, you’re not a whore,” I said. “Amy Lynne, what the fuck’s going on? Why are you acting this way? When you left this morning everything was great. What happened?”
I reached across the table for her hand.
She jerked away and crossed her arms over her chest.
“You hired me to fuck you,” she whispered. “I know that now.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She looked away and shook her head. “You want me to be Lizzie’s nanny during the day and your whore at night.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “Amy Lynne, where is this coming from?” I truly liked this girl, but I was starting to have serious second thoughts about hiring her. And about fucking her. Gail didn’t mention that she was an emotional basket case. Then again, most women are. Jesus, what the fuck have I gotten myself into?
Lizzie was staring at both of us with wide eyes full of tears. Her bottom lip began to quiver. I pulled her out of the chair and held her in my lap.
“I’m not a whore,” Amy Lynne said again. She looked away and shook her head. “And I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
She pushed up from the table and ran out of the room.
“Wow,” I said to myself. “What the fuck was that?”
Lizzie slapped the table with a spoon to bring me back to reality. I shook my head to clear it. I was literally stunned, as if a concussion grenade had gone off in the room.
I blew out a long breath and went back to feeding Lizzie, who thankfully seemed oblivious to it all.
I took a few deep breaths to force the anger that had been building inside my chest back down. I remembered arguing with Bethany like that. One minute she was calm as could be and the next minute, she was a fucking banshee. I remember her yelling at me at the top of her lungs while I sat there wondering what the fuck was wrong. It was always a competition to see who could yell the loudest and get in the sharpest digs. I resolved myself not to treat Amy Lynne the same way. I mean, when it came right down to it, I didn’t really know much about her, other than the few comments she’d made about her terrible marriage and what Gail had told me.
Gail… I tried to imagine what Gail would tell me to do.
She’d tell me to give Amy Lynne time to calm down, then see if I could figure out what had happened between breakfast and now to set her off.