by Lila Younger
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I- I didn’t know.”
My mom squeezes my hand.
“That’s what we wanted Livvy. We didn’t want you to worry.”
I don’t have anything good to say, so I say nothing. It’s all my fault that my dad got hit. I wish now that I had listened to them, and that I hadn’t just left right after Christmas. If my dad doesn’t make it, then the last things we said to one another would be full of hate.
Time goes by very slowly, but eventually a doctor walks over to meet my mother. She looks as tired as we do.
“Is he okay?” she ask, her voice trembling. She looks so old and fragile now, and I pull her close to me to support her.
“Your husband is stable. He’s out of surgery now, but he’s not conscious. I can take you to see him.”
“Please,” my mother says softly.
We follow the doctor to the elevators and up three flights. My dad’s room is directly across the nurses’ station. I can see him through the window of the door, all hooked up to machines. He’s got a broken arm, and his face is all bruised up and puffy. I almost don’t recognize him. My mom runs in to him, bending over him, her shoulders shaking. I can’t seem to make my feet walk the last few steps. It’s like they’re made of lead, or guilt. Instead I turn to the doctor.
“Is he going to be okay?” I ask.
“Most patients with his injuries do recover. Hopefully he will wake in a day or so. Give it time.” She gives me a sympathetic look and leaves.
My dad doesn’t wake up on the weekend, so I leave on Monday. It’s a terrible week, waiting on a text from my mom, but she insisted I go back because she didn’t want me to fall behind. When my last class on Friday ends, I head to my car and drive straight to the hospital again. On the way there, I receive a message from my mom saying dad’s finally awake and I feel a huge relief. If he’s awake, then that means he will get better. At least, that’s what I’m going to believe. I feel so good that I even stop in at Krispy Kreme to pick up a dozen of my dad’s favorite, the chocolate glazed. I know he’ll be complaining about the hospital food, so this will definitely cheer him up.
I’m stepping out of the elevators with my box of donuts when I see a guy, round as he is tall, in a leather jacket and a mean look on his face leaving my dad’s room. I’m so surprised that I do a double take. Who could that be? I’ve never seen anyone like that among my dad’s friends. One look at him and I just know he’s not good news. I walk as fast as I can past him, keeping my eyes on the ground. But as I get to my dad’s door, I turn around quickly to sneak a look. The man’s watching me, and it makes me uneasy. Instead I quickly push open the door and slip inside. My dad starts when he hears the door, but relaxes when he sees it’s me.
“Hey dad,” I say, offering up the box of donuts. “I’m glad you’ve woken up.”
“Thank you,” he says, stiffly reaching for the box of donuts. He places them on the rolling table beside him and lifts up the lid. “Chocolate glazed, my favorite.”
I take a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “For those things I said to you at Christmas.”
My dad lifts up his arm for a hug, and I rush in. He gives me a pat on the back, the cast preventing him from holding onto me tight.
“Hey kiddo,” he says softly. “I was just as much to blame for it.”
I give him a rueful smile.
“I’m glad those weren’t my last words to you,” I say.
“Me too.”
My dad offers me a donut and takes a second one for himself. We eat in silence, chewing on the sugary treat. I’m glad we’re okay again, but something is still bothering me.
“Hey dad?” I ask hesitantly. “Who was that guy?”
“What guy?”
“The one who was leaving your room when I showed up. With the ugly scowl and leather jacket.”
“He’s nobody,” my dad says but I can detect an edge in his voice. “Did he say anything to you?”
“No,” I say slowly. “Why would he? Dad, what are you not telling me?”
My dad falls back onto the bed. For a moment it seems like he won’t say anything after all, but then he changes his mind.
“He’s the man I owe money to. I had a gambling problem a long time ago. I stopped when you were born, but when your tuition got hiked up, I figured that I could quickly borrow some and pay Pete back. Everything would have been fine I think, but I lost my job. We weren’t able to pay our mortgage for a month so I borrowed more. And now I’m here. I have no idea when I’ll be able to work again, but the warehouse already told me not to bother coming back. They’ve hired someone else.”
He says this without facing me. He’s ashamed, I realize. It’s so strange to see my father like this, as a simple man with flaws. It’s so unexpected that I don’t have any words at first.
“I don’t want you to worry your mother about this,” he adds urgently. “She can’t know.”
“How can mom not know?!”
“She trusts me with money. And I’ll find a way out of this for us. I just need some time.”
“And let me guess: that guy doesn’t want to give you any?” I say. This is getting worse by the minute.
“I told him to come here, so he could see I’m not lying. So he knows it’s not like I can pay him. Pete’s insistent though.” My dad stops abruptly when he sees how concerned I look. “Olivia. I don’t want you to worry about this. I should have never told you. Pete is my problem, you hear me? I mean that.”
I nod my head, but there’s no way I cannot worry about that. This all started because I wanted to go to a fancy university instead of the local college like my parents wanted me to. Growing up we never lacked for anything, but we definitely weren’t rich by any means. My parents drove Honda’s. I had an after school job at the grocery store. We were... normal. But now my selfishness and stubbornness pushed my parents into a situation where they’re in debt. And it’s not like I could just quit university and get the tuition money back. It didn’t work like that. Maybe I could get a job or something. I’d have to quit the paper, but Terry would be happy about that at least.
I stay with my dad the rest of the day. We don’t have to talk much, but just knowing that we’re no longer fighting lifts a big weight off my shoulders. My mom gets off work and brings over some dinner, and then I decide to head home. It’s been a really long day, and I know she wants some time with my dad. They’ve never been apart, not even one night, so I know she’s probably going to sleep in my dad’s room tonight. At least they have each other. But my smile is wiped off my face when I hear my mom asking him about health insurance. Apparently my dad hasn’t been paying it. Their whispers are angry, and it makes my guilt rear its head once more. I run away, into the elevators, trying to push away the terrible thoughts in my head. More and more bad news. Is it ever going to end?
I’m just outside the hospital doors, trying to find my parking ticket stub when I catch sight of Pete in the corner of my eye. He sees me at the same time too and starts to walk away.
“Hey!” I yell, running to catch up to him. I don’t know what’s come over me. “Stop!”
Pete slows down and waits for me to catch up. He’s got a curious look on his face. Up close I can see a nasty scar stretching from his ear to his mouth. I wonder what happened there. An accident? A fight? I shudder to think what happened to the other guy.
“I know why you’re here,” I say as boldly as I can. “My dad, it’s not his fault what happened. He got in a crash. You have to understand. He just lost his job. He’s a good man. He’ll pay you back, but he just needs time.”
Pete’s shaking his head, but then he laughs when he hears the end of what I have to say.
“What story has he spun for you?” he asks, but then holds up a hand. “Never mind. I don’t need to hear it. It’s not my place to destroy a man to his children. Your father and I have business, and I suggest you stay out of it.”
I don’t know what
he’s talking about. Destroy a man?
“Look, Mr. Pete. I know why he’s in debt. It was because I was selfish and wanted to go to university far away from them. It was because they wouldn’t support my dream so I... I tricked them into it. Please don’t hurt my dad. I know he’ll pay you back.”
Pete takes two steps towards me, and suddenly I’m very aware of the fact that we’re in a dimly lit parking lot, away from the security cameras around the hospital’s entrances. I can’t help but fall back a few steps. I clutch tightly onto my purse, in case I need to swing it at him or something. He sees the fear in me and guffaws.
“I don’t hit women,” he growls. “Your father on the other hand, would have what’s coming to him.”
“But he’s just been in an accident!” I protest.
“Then maybe he shouldn’t have skipped his payment the past two months. It’s not good business to let people think they can get away with that.”
“I can get a job. It’ll take me a week or two, but there’s always something on campus. And then I can pay you back, okay?” I say the words quickly, desperately.
But Pete just laughs in my face. A full on bellow that makes me forget my fear and get angry. There’s nothing funny about this situation. I’m not some princess who’s never gotten her hands dirty.
“You want to try to pay back your father’s five hundred thousand dollar debt?”
I gasp. Five hundred thousand dollars? That can’t be right.
“I didn’t think so,” Pete says, his laughter dying down. Suddenly he gets serious. “Although, you know, there might be something you could do. A cousin of mine runs an auction. For all those things that society doesn’t approve of, but a lot of money can buy.”
I blink. The conversation has taken a sudden turn, and I’m not sure what he’s talking about anymore. Does he mean the black market? What did I possibly have that the rich could want?
“Yes,” he muses. “You might just be perfect for that.”
“I don’t have anything to sell,” I say in confusion. “I’m a college student.”
“Oh, I’m not talking about things. I’m talking about you.”
Olivia
“Me?”
There must be some kind of miscommunication going on because I don’t think I’m understanding him. Did he really say I should sell myself? Like a hooker or something? I’m the furthest thing from that. In fact, I don’t know how he could see me seducing anyone in my college sweatpants, oversized sweater and glasses.
“There’s a lot of money to be made,” he says with a shrug.
“You want me to stand on the street and wave down a john?” I ask. “I don’t know the first thing about any of that.”
“Not on the street,” Pete says. “You’d make money, it’s true, but not fast enough. No, what I have in mind is something else entirely. It will be a onetime thing. You’ll be auctioned off to the highest bidder. These are classy men, I promise, billionaires all of them. I’m sure you’ll be treated well. And whatever you raise will go towards your father’s debt. In fact, because I have a daughter of my own, and I know a little of how your father feels. If you make more than the debt, I’ll give half of the extra, for your schooling. So in a way, it’ll really help your parents, since they won’t need to come back to me. Really it’s a win-win situation.”
I try to focus on Pete’s words instead of my emotions. The guy sounds so nonchalant about the whole thing. Like auctioning a woman is as common as a bake sale. This whole thing feels messed up, but I have a feeling that this offer isn’t something I can mull over. The guy wants to break dad’s other arm, for crying out loud. He’s not going to let me think about this decision.
“Will I be safe?” I ask him.
He shrugs. I can see him looking at me, appraising me like a piece of meat. I cross my arms over my breasts, trying to shield them from view.
“Safe as you can be dealing with someone on the other side of the law,” he says.
Great. Like that’s supposed to be comforting. But really when I think about it, is there any other choice? My father landed in this mess because of me essentially, and here was the way for me to fix it. A neat, tidy solution that will hopefully let us put this behind us forever. And the extra money... we could pay the hospital bill, the house, and maybe there would be some left even to put towards graduate school. I’d already received a few acceptance letters, but the best ones can cost over ten thousand dollars a semester. This auction could finally give me the means to really pursue my dreams.
“I’ve never...” I’m so embarrassed that I can’t even say the words. I can feel my cheeks flaming as I struggle to speak it out loud. “I’ve never done ‘it’.”
The words take a moment to sink in, but instead of being annoyed, Pete gives me a big smile that’s honestly worse than his scowl.
“Oh, I don’t think that’s something you have to worry about,” he says. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”
I don’t think so, but I push away my doubts. I also have to push away the uneasy feeling I have about the fact that he knows this much about selling women. Is this something he does a lot of? I sure hope not. I’m going to have to put my trust in this man after all.
“Okay,” I say at last. “I’ll do it.”
“Good. Here’s a number. Call me on Monday when you leave to go back to school. You’re in luck. There’s a Sotheby’s auction happening Monday. There’s no high like spending ten million dollars on a painting of flowers to get rich people in the mood to buy.”
Pete holds out his hand, and I give it a shake. I just hope I didn’t make the wrong choice.
********
On Sunday night, I pack my bags, hug my mom and dad, and head back home. At least my dad seems to be doing better. His arm is healing properly, and the internal bleeding has mostly stopped. The crushed legs are a bit more serious, but at least they too seem to be showing signs of healing. The doctor says that he should be heading home soon, though there will be lots of pain still. Pete hadn’t told him anything, except that he’s agreed to give my dad some time. He tells me this news in a whisper as he hugs me goodbye.
“I told you that everything will be okay,” he says with a smile.
I smile back. Everything will be. I just hope that he won’t find out why.
“I’ll see you later mom,” I say, giving her a hug. The crash has healed the rift between us, and I’m very grateful to have my mom back.
“Drive safe honey,” she says, squeezing me tight. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“And hopefully I can come back next weekend,” I say.
“Not if it interferes with your classes. I want you to do your very best. I would be devastated if you weren’t able to graduate because you had to keep traveling back and forth like this.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say. She must sense that I don’t want to argue about it again, because instead of pushing it, she just gives me another hug.
The whole drive back, I think about what I’m about to do. It really is my only choice. Everything will be fine, I think, trying to convince myself. It will be fine. I wish I could talk to someone about this, but I can’t, not even to Addy.
Instead, I spend a sleepless night tossing and turning, wondering what it will be like, what is going to happen. When my alarm goes off, startling me out of my sleep, I realize I’ve only gotten maybe four hours. I get out of bed and get ready for the day. I’ve got dark circles under my eyes.
“Not very attractive, is it?” I mutter to myself as I put in my contacts.
I have no clue how much I’m going to be expected to dress up. I’d feel foolish putting on a dress. I decide to put on the fluttery top I wore to singles night. Addy thought I looked pretty hot in it, and she’s pretty good at that sort of thing. I pair it with some skinny jeans and ballet flats. All that’s left now is to call Carlos. I pick up the phone, and put it down again. If I do this, I won’t be able to take it back. I stare at the blank screen for a few minutes,
biting my lip, agonizing, until finally I pick it up and quickly call before I can change my mind.
He picks up on the first ring.
“Carlos? Hi, it’s Olivia. Your cousin Pete told me to call you.”
I hold out a tiny bit of hope that he’ll not know who I am and I can hang up, but no such luck.
“Olivia. That’s right. How soon can you get to New York?”
Carlos’ voice is wheezy, like he’s smoked a pack a day for years. But he doesn’t sound menacing like his cousin at least.
“Today? I can leave now,” I say.
“Good.” He gives me an address that I scribble down. “I’ll be waiting.”
“Wait! Um, Carlos,” I say, “Do you do this... often?”
“No, but then again, you don’t meet many virgins these days over eighteen. You’re as rare as a unicorn.”
He barks a laugh and with that said, he hangs up. I input the address into my phone, leave a note in case I’m never heard of again, and head out. It’s a two and a half hour drive to New York, one I’ve made with Addy at least a dozen times, so I don’t have to worry too much about how to get there. The address is in Manhattan, right off 5th Ave. I have to drive a few blocks away to park my car in a garage, paying a ridiculous amount to park it for the day. Hopefully that’s all I’ll need. I glance down at my watch. I’m almost a half hour early. I have no idea how this works, but I’d prefer to be in there as little as possible, so I decide to go to the coffee shop across the street for a coffee instead.
The little shop is packed with people, which is a little surprising given that it’s a Monday afternoon. Don’t people have jobs to be at? I step to the end of the line and glance at the menu. A hot chocolate sounds pretty good to me. That decided, my eyes wander, until it lands on a man who looks an awful lot like Silas Rutherford. He’s in a navy pea coat, the collar turned up against the wind outside, and these slim jeans that accentuate his ass perfectly. I gasp quietly. No way. I must have imagined it. I take another quick look again.
