Not a chance

The next four days I continued to invite her to dinner. Other than her bowl of cereal in the morning I don’t think she’s been eating much, and I don't like the gaunt look she is developing. Even though she is wary about our relationship, she’s not too proud to take my food; it used to be that a good part of her diet consisted of send-backs from the Outback kitchens, so her poor diet was yet another impact of losing her job.

As we eat, I chat with her about her childhood in Tennessee. I learn that she is the oldest of three children, with a sister (Amanda) two years younger than her and a brother (Tyler) who is only eight. Her mother is an almost stereotypical housewife from the sixties who keeps busy baking casseroles and is active the Women’s Christian Fellowship, and her father runs an auto shop and, on the weekend, preaches in the local Methodist church.

I kid you not – Alison is an honest to goodness preacher’s daughter. No wonder she is so embarrassed by her boyfriend’s vocalizations. The more I learn about her upbringing, the more I begin to understand Alison. Her teetotaler parents were as controlling as mine had been. She went to church on Sundays instead of Saturday like my Seventh Day Adventist family, but rules about the clothes she could wear, TV show that she could watch and most of all, dating were all too familiar.

I recall one evening after she disappears upstairs how within a week of moving into my house a second earring had appeared in each of her pretty ears. She confided in me that she’d have to wear a dangle in the upper hole so her parents wouldn’t notice the lower piercing when she went home. For them, the extra piecing was a clear signal of her worldly sinfulness, for Alison it is an act of rebellion, just like her relationship with Dick. I can only imagine what her strict father would think if he knew that his little angel was not only no longer a virgin, but that her lover was a tattooed asshole who dreamed of playing in Punk-Rock clubs in the city.

Alison asks about my family but it still hurts too much to talk about Francine. I share a little about my two boys and their busy lives out West, but mostly I keep the conversation focused on her. Like most teenagers she likes to talk about herself and she shares several stories about her misadventures in school. Trivial things really, like sneaking out of her house to watch Twilight, or the time she told her Mom that she was going to a friend’s house to study, when she actually went to the mall with a couple boys from the regular high school. I tell her that if my father had caught me lying like that, he’d have tanned my backside with his belt. As her cheeks brightened Alison told me that her Dad probably would have done the same thing, so she made sure that she never got caught.

Dick stopped by for one of his wham-bam sessions on Monday, Tuesday Alison had several sales calls after dinner and on Wednesday she came home later than usual after her evening statistics class, so it isn’t until Thursday evening that we are sitting together in the living room having tea. Some small noise catches my attention and I glance over to see Alison wiping away a tear as she sits on the couch. She must have been doing a round of job searching, because instead of her usual clingy knit top and designer jeans she is wearing a white buttoned blouse and a dark skirt that just reached her knees. She looks even sexier in this modest getup than she does in her jeans and I wonder what kind of panties this conservative young woman might wear beneath the dark pleated skirt.

“What’s wrong, Honey?” Although I’m pretty sure I know exactly what has her so upset. After her initial burst of calling family and friends, Alison’s contacts to sell knives have basically become cold calls.

“I can’t do it, Mr. P” she sobs as I move to sit by her side and wrap my arms around her. “I’ve tried so hard, but I’ve only sold three knives.” I listen quietly holding her gently in my arms as the tears streak down her cheeks and dampen my polo. “I’m sorry, Mr. Patterson, but this Cutco job is way harder than they made it sound, and no one else is hiring because of this Corona thing.”

If I were a better man I would just tell her to forget about the rent, but the feeling of her soft curves trembling in my arms and the flowery smell of her hair is intoxicating. I try to mask my excitement with a long disappointed sigh.

“I guess that means you won’t have your rent money tomorrow.”

“N-no.” I lift her chin gently until her beautiful eyes are looking directly at me.

“What do you think we should do about that?”