I give her a couple days

I give Alison two days, and ask to speak to her, when she got home after her classes. We are in the kitchen again and the way she looks leaning against my counter makes it nearly impossible to abandon my plan to have this lovely young woman on her back.

“What’s up Mr. P?” Her voice is as bright and cheerful as her smile, but I've known her long enough now to see that she is not looking forward to this conversation.

“How’s your new job going?” The way her eyes drop tell me all I need to know. She recovers quickly though and gives me one of her brilliant smiles.

“It’s been good, Mr. Patterson.” Her hand rises to her chest and I see her fingering the gold cross she is never without. “I've made some sales, and I have some more contacts that I still have to follow up on …” she pauses for a second, “can I get you last months rent on Friday? That’s when I get my first check.”

“Friday.” After a moment of hesitation designed to remind her that this is an imposition I agree. “Friday will be OK, but If I you can’t get all to me by then, there will have to be some consequences.”

The way she bites on her lower lip is a pretty good indication of her lack of confidence in her ability to raise the $500, but all the same she nods her head.

“Good.” I say as I turn back to the kitchen, “I made hamburgers, do you want one?”

“That would be great Mr. P!” From the first time I made her dinner Alison has liked my cooking. Unlike some teenagers she is surprisingly adventurous and has eaten pretty much everything I cook apart from the one time I made a seafood chowder and she found a chunk of octopus tentacle in her second spoonful. We eat dinner in silence, I'm not much of a talker and Alison clearly has other worries on her mind.

“It’s really hard, Mr.P.” Alison confides in me as she nibbles on the potato fries I had oven roasted to go with the burgers. “I just can’t ever get people to buy more than one knife, and usually that’s because they feel sorry for me.” She finishes the fry and takes another delicate bite from the half-finished hamburger, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get the hang of it.”

“You’ve got to be tough.” I tell her, even as I know that all the coaching in the world won’t help this one. Alison is too nice-hearted and sensitive to bully them into a sale. “If you want their money you have to be willing to play hardball.”

“Like you are with the rent?” She asks softly. The funny thing about this of course is that I don’t want her rent money, I’d much rather have her fail in this new job of hers than succeed, but I play along with a vague threat just to keep her on her toes.

“Exactly, you don’t want to start playing games with when it comes to your rent.”