Read Online The Salt God's Daughter by Ilie Ruby - Free Book Online

help. Not sure where the wife is, but I’ll find out. He wants me there in twenty minutes for an interview.”
    Dolly and I followed her into the café bathroom, where she drew a fake beauty mark on her chin with a pen and Dolly
teased her black hair with a fork. She slipped into the tight burgundy dress and slapped on her black strappy high heels. “Well, it’s overkill for an interview, but it looks good, right?” she sighed.
    â€œElizabeth Taylor’s sister,” Dolly said.
    Off she went, marching down the slate walkway toward the large house, swinging her arms as Dolly and I waited in the car. The scent of desert evening primrose wafted through the air, its bright purple and white flowers shifting in the breeze. We eyed the huge magnolia tree that covered the patch of grass, with its thick shiny leaves and heavy rope swing. Papery white blossoms spilled from a rusty spray of tiny flowers near the crook of its branches. The house looked like one of those castles I had seen only in books, with a row of neatly trimmed hedges under the windows.
    Our mother landed the job. She would be a live-in housekeeper. We would live in the apartment above the garage. She’d put us in school.
    Not only that, but we would have a new friend. The place was home to a seven-year-old named Tiffany, with thin stringy hair and a small pink mouth. She wore Levi’s jeans with Levi’s checked shirts, infinitely cooler than either Dolly or me in our Toughskins and T-shirts. I imagined she didn’t know about trash picking or half the things we did. She reigned over a beautiful purple bedroom built of lilacs. A huge white comforter flowed across her canopy bed. “Wicked,” Dolly whispered, assuming, like I did, that we would spend most of our time playing in Tiffany’s bedroom, and not in the in-law apartment, which was covered with soot and filled with car fumes. Still, our mother fancied herself moving up in the world. With a little elbow grease, she’d get the place sparkling in no time, she said. The problem was that she loved to clean. She’d spend one day on a single room, not practical.

    â€œDid you lose a bet?” was the first thing Tiffany said to me. I was wearing my straw hat and shiny red shoes with the purple high-water pants I had found trash picking.
    â€œLose what?” I asked.
    â€œHow old are you? I’m seven.”
    â€œUs, too,” Dolly lied. “We’re twins. But not by birth.”
    Tiffany looked confused. “Well, you look older than your sister,” she said to me.
    I took off my glasses. My shirt was orange and black, with the words “President of David Cassidy Fan Club” on the front. I had my Partridge Family lunch box in my hand.
    â€œShe’s a little runt, and you’re sort of a fatty,” said Tiffany. “But I’ll let you play with me, seeing as you’re our help.”
    â€œBig boned,” I heard myself say. I felt my cheeks turn red and tears begin to spill.
    â€œDo not cry,” ordered Dolly.
    Tiffany smiled. “Don’t bother,” she said, and skipped off.
    â€œIgnore her,” my mother said. “She’s just jealous.”
    I ran inside and changed my pants. I put on Dolly’s brown corduroys. They were too small, but anything was better. “Look at her. Like Tiffany’s so great,” Dolly said. “She’s got a face like a prune. That’s because she’s mean inside. I thought being pretty was hard. Both are. Stay in between so no one hates you, Moose.”
    Â 
    MY MOTHER SET out a canister of roses that first night. She placed it in the center of the small butcher-block table. She took out her guitar. She was tired from mopping all the floors in the house, but her sweet voice filled the apartment. Dolly and I looked on, thrilled that she was so happy. Surely we were turning over a new leaf.
    A few nights later, she decided we should get to