Read Online WIDOW by Billie Sue Mosiman - Free Book Online Page B

her to other homes the rest of the week, but she realized she'd be servicing the one with Andrew in it every Monday, regardless. The four other homes she cleaned did not upset her quite as much. One of them had three teenage girls living in it with their parents. It was a tougher job, but at least she didn't have to fight off waves of nausea thinking about her sons. Two of the houses were occupied by professional couples too young and too work-oriented to think about bringing children into the world. The fourth house had a single mother who seemed to be at work all the time, leaving her three-year-old daughter in the care of an elderly aunt. The little girl tugged at Kay's heartstrings, but not nearly as badly as Andrew did.
    It was Andrew who reminded her too much of her loss, and it was Andrew who made her feel tortured every minute she spent in his home even when he was not there. In his room she would catch herself immobile, staring at his bed made in the shape of a racing car, or she would find one of his Tonka toys on the carpet, and stand holding it like a talisman until her eyes burned. In the boy's closet she could spend an hour touching his little shirts and trousers or holding his pajamas close to her face so she could inhale the baby scent he had not yet lost.
    With her first week's paycheck, Kay started going to an exercise club not far from downtown. It wasn't as good as the Houston Racquet Club or some of the more expensive exercise arenas in the city, but they had enough equipment, and the men didn't bother her as long as she didn't look at them much. One of the employees, a muscle-bound hunk with surfer-blond hair, tried to put the make on her the first time she came in, but she took him aside and whispered, “If you come on to me one more time, if you even raise your eyebrow in my direction, I'm going to the management and report you, then I'll ask for a full refund of my membership fees. They won't be happy with you. Do you fully understand what I'm saying to you?”
    He steered clear of her after that, though he still stole looks her way when he thought she wouldn't notice.
    She had to take buses everywhere she went or sometimes, when it wasn't far, she walked, but she meant to remedy that soon. She had her eye on a used Toyota in a car lot she passed on the way to the diner. If she scrimped and saved, if she remained in the run-down boarding house with the old ladies, if she ate sandwiches two and, sometimes, three times a day, she'd be able to get her body into shape and still save enough for the car.
    She called Charlene at the end of the first month she was out of the hospital. “I'm getting it all together,” she said, hoping she sounded happy. “I have a job, which I hate . . . “ She laughed a little to soften her words. “But this job will afford me the things I need to get out of it. I'm getting a car in another month so we'll have transportation. It isn't much, about ten years old, but it's a Toyota and they run forever. So, how are you doing? Are you all right?”
    Charlene babbled on and Kay stopped listening after ten minutes, but she held the line and waited patiently, glad she had someone who wanted to talk to her. “I'll call you again next month. If they start talking about letting you out, call me at the boarding house. I'll give you the number, okay?” What Kay didn't say was that she hoped Charlene didn't get out until things were more under control. They needed the car. You couldn't get around in Houston without one. The Metro Transit System worked, but it took a lot of time to get anywhere, and the men on it seemed to think they were destined to flirt with every pretty woman they saw. She spent all her riding time brushing off men and giving icy stares that would have shriveled the hottest desire.
    Kay also needed another place to live. She worked out like crazy, every day after work until eight or nine at night. She had one pair of cheap black Spandex pants and top that she