“Then why are you asking me for money when you already have money? You know what, never mind. I have to get dressed for work. I’ll be ready in a minute. Are you going out looking like that?”
She stated, “I’m going out just like this.”
Andrea’s short black hair was spiked out in different directions. She was wearing an ugly green night gown, and she looked like she hadn’t bathed in two days. The drug use and the alcohol made her look like she was in her fifties. She looked worn out and tired all of the time, and today was no different.
“Is Olivia in the bedroom?” I had to mentally prepare myself for either a fist fight or an exchange of words. Honestly, I just wanted to beat Olivia down and say I won.
“I don’t think so.” Andrea started up again with the laughing.
I went on to the bedroom. The door was halfway open, and I peeked in and saw it was empty. Good! I glared at Olivia’s bed. I was thinking I could burn it to ashes. That is one way of getting her back, but she won’t have a bed to lay in tonight.
It was almost 11:30 a.m. I did not want to be late for work. I quickly changed into my blue and white uniform and rushed out of the room. Andrea still sat at the kitchen table, and she was trying to light another cigarette. I told her we had to go, and I grabbed the keys from the top of the old television set in the living room. We walked out the door together, and instantly, I was embarrassed. Andrea smelled bad and looked even worse, and I could not believe that she was not bothered by this. She still had on her puke green nightgown with her matching housecoat, and it had holes in it from moths and cigarette burns. She had on nasty socks and slippers that use to be fluffy and cute. I drove out of the apartment complex without looking around. I knew people saw us.
Jerry’s Convenience Store was only about a mile away, but it was in the opposite direction of my job. When I arrived, the parking lot had only a couple of cars. I found a spot to park, and Andrea got out in a rush. Usually, when Andrea is going for alcohol, she couldn’t get it fast enough. That was the only time she was in a hurry. She could be late for work, and she’d still take her time getting there. She could be late for an appointment, and sometimes never show up. Those drugs and alcohol were more important than me, Olivia, and anyone else in this world. In Andrea’s mind, her priorities were straight.
I looked at the clock on the dash board, and I had 15 minutes to get to work. She had already been in the store for less than a minute, and I was getting real impatient. I wanted to leave her there, but I knew if I did, she wouldn’t let me use her car again. Matter of fact, she might lock me out of the apartment. With Pritchard so handy and knowing how to change the locks on the doors, it’s never a problem for Andrea to keep me from getting in.
Finally, Andrea came out of the store, but she was running. She was acting weird. Her chin, neck, and chest were moist, and the front of her house coat was wet. When she rounded the front right side of the car, she fell. I saw one slipper go up in the air and come back down hitting the hood of the car and slide to the ground. She must have hit the ground hard because she didn’t get up right away. I started to get out of the car to help her, but her dirty hands appeared on the hood and she pulled herself back up. Once she was inside the car, Andrea yelled, “Get going! Hurry up!”
Not only was she stinky and nasty looking, but now she was wet and had mud on her nightgown. Her left elbow was bloody. She was breathing hard and couldn’t sit still in her seat. I gave her a strange look, and she yelled at me again to get going. I backed out slowly and got back on the road.
I asked her, “You alright?”
Andrea did not answer. She was looking out the back window. She screamed at me, “What the hell! Can’t you drive faster?”
I drove faster. I decided I wasn’t going to ask her what was going on. I might regret it. When we were back at the apartment, Andrea got out of the car without saying a word and ran inside. She slammed the front door shut, and the apartment number that hung beside the door fell on the porch. Well, I guess she proved me wrong. She got in a hurry for something else. I just didn’t know what that something else was.
CHAPTER FOUR
What a pain in the butt Andrea can be sometimes. Because of her, I was late for work. Just my luck, and I know Sherrie will be on me about it. Maybe, she wasn’t there today, and she won’t notice my timecard until tomorrow.
I went upstairs to the fourth floor, and I got the cleaning cart from the large walk-in closet in the hallway. I hated my job at the nursing home. Cleaning up behind the elderly can be nasty sometimes, especially the ones that were really sick. I would never say that personally to any of the residents because it would hurt their feelings, and I didn’t ever want to hurt their feelings. Some of those old folks were really nice and can be really funny. If I get fired from this job for being rude to the residents, I wouldn’t be able to get another job in town. Sherrie would make sure of it, and I can’t afford start over someplace else.
My mom used to work as a custodian at the nursing home, too, and when she could, she volunteered at the urgent care clinic where Andrea works. In our neighborhood, she helped anyone she could even though she had nothing. As poor as we were, she would literally give someone a pair of her shoes if they needed it. Or a dress for church if someone didn’t have good clothes to wear. She would fix a sandwich with the little bit of food we had and give to a starving neighbor. That’s just how she was, and my sisters and I got along most of the time because of her. We still had disagreements back then, but nothing like it is now. When she died, everything changed. We never got into physical fights when she was alive. Now, its common place, and we’d say anything to hurt each other’s feelings or to just get a reaction. Sometimes the hate is so thick that it makes it unbearable to be in the same apartment.
I got the job at the nursing home because of my mom. After she died, a woman by the name of Miss Geraldine hired me. Miss Geraldine was my mom’s supervisor, too. She knew I needed work, and she knew me because my mom would bring me and Olivia to work with her sometimes. I would sit in Miss Geraldine’s office with Olivia when we were younger and wait for my mom to finish working. Miss Geraldine moved a year ago, and Sherrie was immediately given the position. I don’t think Sherrie interviewed, seeing how her dad owns the place. I wish I could have gotten that position. I felt like I deserved it. I worked really hard every day, but I was never considered.
Disco music was coming from the entertainment room on the fourth floor. Every Friday, there was some kind of party or gathering for the residents in each of the entertainment rooms on each floor. They played bingo, sung karaoke, and sometimes they would bring kids from the school to do puppet shows or plays. There was always some kind of activity going on. I never went in there when they had their parties. Honestly, it wasn’t my kind of party.
I had four hours to clean the floor, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to get every room thoroughly clean. I made sure most of the beds were made, at least, the ones that didn’t have anyone lying in them. I swept the floors, and if they were horrible looking because of some kind of accident, I would mop and sanitize. The work was hard. I would go home most of the time with my legs hurting, my back aching, and a headache to top it all off. My concern was that if I didn’t work hard enough, Sherrie, with her notepad full of complaints about what I haven’t done, would fire me. I believed she was looking for a reason to get rid of me anyway, and I didn’t want to give her a reason.
I was done with all of the rooms within 3 hours, and I was trying my best to get the cart to the basement to restock for whoever cleans the floor tomorrow. But for some reason, I could not get the back wheels past the threshold into the elevator. I would back it up a little and push as hard as I could, and it wouldn’t budge. The cart was too heavy to pick up. So, I knew I wouldn’t get it in the elevator that way. I stepped back with my hands on my hips trying to catch my breath. The elevator buzzer started blaring, and I just ignored it. I couldn’t use the resident elevators, and I wasn�
��t about to give up this freight elevator because it took too long for it come back and I knew one of the other custodians wanted it. It was always in use.
Before I tried again, a voice asked, “Can I help you?”
I looked to the left, and a guy was approaching me. He had big blue eyes and sandy blonde hair. He was wearing blue jean shorts with a white t-shirt and leather sandals. I couldn’t turn away. He was actually really cute.
The only question I could think of is why he wanted to help me? Usually, people like him ignored me, thought they were better than me, or looked at me like I was stupid.
I asked, “Excuse me?” He couldn’t have been talking to me.
He said slower, “Can I help you? I don’t mind.”
I cleared my throat and answered, “Sure.” I stepped aside, and he lifted the cart just enough to push it in. I thanked him as I shuffled sideways into the elevator trying to avoid the side of the cart.
“No problem. So, what’s your name?” He wanted to know my name, for what?
I answered, “Angela.” I surprised myself when I blurted out my name. I bet he was some rich guy. I bet his grandfather or grandmother lived in the nursing home.
He held the elevator door open as he said, “My name is Alex.”
He seemed nice, and he was cute. I guess there wasn’t anything wrong with a cute guy speaking to me. I wasn’t used to it, though. I said, “Nice to meet you.”
“I know you, Angela.”
I pointed out, “You asked for my name. So I seriously doubt you know me.”
“I knew your name, but I wanted to be sure I was right. We’ve never spoken before, but we use to work together; kind of.”
The buzzing from the elevator was driving me crazy now, and he was crazy for thinking he knew me. I haven’t talked with, befriended, or worked with any new guy in a very long time. I pushed the button for the basement and said, “You’re mistaken me for someone else. I have to go.”
Alex said before the elevator doors completely closed, “Maybe, I’ll see you again soon.”
Was he trying to flirt with me? Who was he anyway? As long as I’ve worked in the old folks’ home, I have never seen him before. He doesn’t look like the custodial type. One of his elderly family members must have moved in recently, and he was visiting. I put him out of my mind. Talking to him wasn’t going to happen again, anyway. So, to even think further about him wasn’t worth it.
When I got to the basement, I pushed that cart out of the elevator with no problem. I replenished the cleaning supplies, replaced sponges, and threw old used ones away. I folded the dry towels that had been sitting around in the dryer for a couple of days. I started the washing machines. There was always something to do at work. There were only four girls that cleaned the entire place, and when one of us was out for longer than a week, the work became harder. I never did complain because there wasn’t any point. The work was there, and it needed to be done, whether I or someone else did it.
CHAPTER FIVE
I was very happy when it was time for me to go home. I hadn’t seen Sherrie all day long, and I wouldn’t hear about being late at least until Monday. My pay check was in my little mailbox in the washer and dryer room, and I cashed it at the only bank in town and went home.
I had to get ready for the graduation ceremony. Olivia was graduating from high school tonight, and I wanted to be there. Despite what she did last night, I had to show support.
Olivia was the youngest sister. I was the middle, and Andrea was the oldest. Andrea and I have the same father. I know where he is, but I’m not sure if we’ll ever see him again. He has a whole other life up north, and as far as I was concerned, he can stay up north.
Olivia’s father, Tony Turrino, was a doctor, and I don’t remember where he lives. Olivia knows, and I think Andrea knows, too. I remember him being nice to my mom when he was around. He didn’t raise his voice. He always seemed calm and level headed. Andrea doesn’t like him, though, and she won’t talk about him. Tony writes Olivia all the time. He came back to Colum for my mom’s funeral. In my opinion, I think Tony came back for Olivia, but she did not want to leave with him. He thought he could help her, and he probably could have if she let him.
Olivia was a pretty girl. She had curly, long hair, and had a lighter complexion. Her eyes were light brown. She is petite, but she carries herself tall with pride and strength. When our mom was alive, I used to tell Olivia that she was stolen from the hospital. She looked nothing like me and Andrea.
I felt bad for Olivia. She was graduating from high school this year, and usually your senior year is supposed to be memorable. The family makes a big deal by buying senior pictures, helping choose a college, renting the cap and gown, sending invitations for the graduation ceremony, and whatever other excitement that comes with graduating. Unfortunately for Olivia, she didn’t experience that her senior year. I didn’t buy any of her senior pictures and neither did Andrea, but Olivia did take them at the beginning of her senior year. She wasn’t very happy when she came back home that day. She had only one outfit compared to the other girls who had several outfits, and then the one outfit was outdated. I know she was embarrassed and angry.
I don’t know if she got accepted to college or not. She never talked about it the whole year, and I know Andrea didn’t know and didn’t care. I gave Olivia twenty dollars for her cap and gown rental. It wasn’t close to being enough. Pritchard gave her the rest. She did ask Andrea for the money at first, but that conversation didn’t go well like most conversations with Andrea. Invitations weren’t even an option. They were too expensive, and there was only me, Andrea, Pritchard, and Olivia’s best friend, Helen. I guess Olivia blamed me and Andrea for her senior year not being what she hoped. I don’t know what she was expecting me to do. I could barely buy food for myself throughout the week. There was no way I was going to come up with all the money she needed for her senior year.
When I got home, Andrea rushed over asking for money. She didn’t even bother to ask me how my day was or how I was doing, but it was nothing new for her to come to me every Friday and ask for money. Mind you, she still made more than I did with her job at the urgent care clinic, when she did actually show up for work. I was torn between giving her money to avoid an argument, and not giving her the money, knowing she’ll start an argument. Usually, I wouldn’t give her a dime, but I wasn’t feeling the fight today. I gave her twenty dollars, and she looked at me like I was crazy. I gave her the same look and walked away.
Andrea yelled as she followed me, “Angela, you know this isn’t enough!”
“The water bill is due, Andrea!” I yelled back. I wasn’t sure if the water bill was really due. It sounded about right, though.
“Pritchard can pay that!”
I said through clenched teeth, “I’m not giving you anymore.”
Her hands were shaking as she yelled, “You’re a selfish bitch! You know that!”
I was so tired of her. I worked hard today, and I didn’t want to deal with the cussing and calling me names. I was angry as I approached her. I said in a threatening voice and with my finger in her face, “You got one more time to call me something other than my name!” I regretted getting close to her because she still smelled bad. At least, she changed her clothes, and they weren’t as dirty.
Andrea backed away, and I could tell she was rethinking her next statement. She knew I could easily hurt her. I’ve done it before.
This time she pleaded. “All I need is another twenty dollars. I’m not asking too much.”
I barely made eight dollars an hour, and forty dollars would put a huge dent in the little cash I had. She was out of her mind thinking I would give her more. I went to my room and closed the door. I didn’t have time for this. Tanie was picking me up soon, and I wanted to be ready when she got there.
CHAPTER SIX
Almost an hour later, Tanie knocked on the door, and I ran out of the bedroom. Pritchard was home, and I knew he would answer the door if I
didn’t. My life was none of his business as far as I was concerned. Pritchard was in the kitchen trying to talk Andrea into getting ready for the graduation ceremony. Whatever she said to him, I didn’t hear and I wasn’t interested. I opened the front door and saw Tanie talking on her pink glittered cell phone. She never came into the apartment. The number one reason was because she didn’t get along with Andrea, and the second reason was because the apartment was nasty.
Tanie talked on the cell phone the entire time she drove, and she was telling Jimmy off. I think Jimmy and I would get along just fine. I would treat him like a king, and he would never want to mistreat me. She finished their argument with a distinctive press of a cell phone button. I always thought that slamming the house phone down on someone during midsentence was more of an attention getter than hanging up on someone with a cell phone.
Tanie huffed angrily. She glanced at me quickly and then asked, “Why you looking at me like that?”
“Aren’t you glad you didn’t sleep with him last night?”
“I slept with him already.”
“When did this happen?” I couldn’t figure that one out.
“You were at work. Remember I told you, Jimmy and I was going to finish our date today. Anyway, his girlfriend called when he was in the shower, and you know, I answered the phone, right?”
I said, “I don’t know why you’re so mad at him about having a girlfriend. It never mattered before. You’re not looking to have a steady boyfriend, anyway.”
“That’s not always true.”
“It’s true, all the time. You don’t want to be hooked on to one guy. Why did you answer his phone anyway?”
Tanie smiled at me. “I guess I was trying to make her jealous.”
“I’m sure you did more than that.” There was an easy moment of silence, and I admitted, “I like having relationships. I want to be with a guy and feel good about it. I can’t stand getting hooked up for one night. It isn’t right.”
The Ex Killer Series Page 3
