"What in the hell is this all about?" I asked, walking up the path towards the house. I climbed the steps to the front porch, locking eyes with Red. Her eyebrows lifted in a silent message. I didn't know what she was trying to tell me. We had yet to agree on a common language.
Penelope's eyes squeezed shut as her head shook. She exhaled. Taking a moment to calm herself, she stepped around Red and said, "We were worried about you."
"And I told you that ya needn't be," Red said, her faint Irish accent exaggerated in her annoyance.
"Maybe if you were more forthcoming with your information, we wouldn't have worried so much," snapped Penelope. She fidgeted with her shawl. Her hands were tense when she said, "I don't think you've ever been gone so long, Mercy."
I looked into her eyes and saw genuine concern for my welfare. Imagine that. Only a short time ago, I wanted to keep a cordial distance between myself and these women.
I entered the house and caught sight of Albertine and Melia as they walked into the foyer. Albertine looked relieved, her face beaming with her beautiful smile. Melia was scowling. Nothing new there.
Red opened the front door, and Penelope rushed inside. Red released the door, allowing it to shut with a bang. She sneered in Penelope's direction and then sat down on the stairs and stared at me.
I was surrounded by my friends, but none of them said a word. I removed my earrings and kicked my shoes off. Wiggling my toes, I took a moment to relish the feeling. I turned to them with a saucy smile and said, "I'm sorry if I worried you, but I had a date last night, ladies."
I wasn't sure what reception I expected, but it certainly wasn't the silence I received. I didn't peek at them as I continued on my way towards my bedroom. I opened my loft door and marched up the steps.
There was a knock. "Come in," I called down. I stood at the top of the stairs, watching as Red entered the room and pushed the door closed on Melia's prying eyes.
"You realize that they're going to pounce on you. You surprised them, but you've given them plenty of time to think up some questions," she taunted as she sat down on my bed. "You and I need to agree on what you will tell them."
I took off my dress. Reaching into my bra, I took out the money that General Washington had given me and I showed it to Red. "He gave me a tip," I said, tossing it onto my bed.
She picked up the money and counted the bills. "Not bad," she said, placing it back on the bed. "You were that good, huh?" she teased.
"No. Actually, I wasn't!" I said, trying to smother my laughter. I sat down on the bed and curled my legs under me.
Flopping onto her elbows, she crossed her legs and swung her feet in circles. She waited for me to elaborate, but I was having a hard time holding my laughter in. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I wasn't interested in crying.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.
The range of emotions was causing my head to spin. I fell back onto the bed and slammed my fists against the mattress. Red leaned over me and stroked the hair off of my face.
"Red, we've been through this. I don't do women."
A slight smile curved her lips, but she continued to stroke my hair. "I can imagine it was a bit difficult being with a man other than your husband," she murmured.
I sighed, debating how much I wanted to share. "We didn't have sex."
She pulled her hand away. She looked skeptical when she said, "The man gave you two hundred dollars for nothing?"
Folding my arms under my head, I gazed up at the ceiling, recalling the moment when the General tried to enter me. "Maybe not for nothing, but mostly, I think he just wanted to be with someone. Not necessarily sexually."
"Most of these gents are lonely, but they still expect a little slap and tickle, especially if they're paying you," she quipped. "Tell me straight now. How was it?"
"I'm serious. We didn't have sex. We tried but...you know..." I dodged. It felt like I would be disclosing his secrets by sharing his inability. I wondered if there was an honor code for hookers.
"Couldn't get it up, huh? John wondered about that," she said, slapping my thigh.
She seemed disappointed on my behalf. I didn't know why, since he still gave me a lovely tip for my efforts.
"John didn't think that he could sleep with an escort?" I asked, curious what Craft knew about the General.
"It's funny," she responded. "Do you know how many men I have met who insist that women can't keep a secret? I swear, the biggest gossips I know happen to be men. John's at the top of the list. Apparently the General's wife was dissatisfied with their sex life for a long time."
"Of course she was," I told her, sitting up on the bed. Even though I had showered that morning, I was beginning to feel as if I were shedding skin. I wanted to take a bath, but it could wait. Learning more about the General was much more pressing.
The bed bounced as she fidgeted. She cocked her head to the side as she studied me. Her eyes narrowed before she said, "How would you know that?"
"He told me about it. That's how," I said, hoping to end her curiosity.
My comment only inflamed her interest. "What exactly did he tell you?"
"What exactly do you know?"
She laughed. "Nothing worse than a whore keeping her secrets, Mercy," she said. "All that I know is that the General's wife was unhappy for a long time, and then one day, she finally packed up and left."
She looked at me with an open and sincere expression. I didn't think she knew why the General's marriage fell apart. Even though I burned to disclose the truth, it simply wasn't my story to tell. If the General wanted people to know the intimate details of his relationship, he would have told his friends and not someone like me. I wasn't certain what could be worse for a proud man the General's age: your friends thinking you were impotent or your friends knowing that your wife left you for another woman.
"Okay, back up," Red said. "Tell me what happened when John and I left."
"Wait, tell me what happened with you and the Admiral."
She waved her hand, pushing aside my comment. "We fucked. Now what happened?"
"Not much, I guess. We ate our cake and then he told me he had a room. I agreed to go upstairs with him. We got undressed and then we tried to...do it," I hedged.
Her eyes widened. Her lips curled and she glanced up towards the ceiling. "Please tell me that there's more," she said. "Please don't tell me you took your clothes off and then just spread your legs."
"Okay. I won't tell you," I said, smiling.
"Oh for fecks sakes. I would have thought that you used a bit more creativity, Mercy!"
"Well, I did show him my breasts. I even asked if he wanted to play with them."
She grabbed my breasts and squeezed them. "Did you play with them? Lick them?"
Swatting her hands away, I rolled my eyes. "My boobs aren't that big, sweetheart."
"You'd be surprised, darlin'. Did you try giving him a blow job?"
I shook my head in denial.
"A hand job?"
Again, I shook my head. "We just spooned."
Red was disgusted. "You fecking spooned?"
"Is that wrong?" I asked, confused.
Her mouth fell open. I think she wanted to say something stern, but she settled for reassuring me. "No, it's not wrong. I used to have a regular that had occasional night terrors. He used to pay me to watch him sleep."
"Then why the derision, Red?"
Grimacing, she said, "You needed a good lay. You were hot for him and he seemed hot for you. I thought he would be a good introduction to the biz."
"Is it common that you feel pleasure? I mean, do you actually enjoy it?"
She folded her hands primly in her lap, striking a pensive pose. "I don't think I would have been in the game this long if I didn't. You and me, we aren't the sad, strung-out whores desperate for their next hit. You'll make more in an hour or two than many of them will make over a week. A guy who just wants to empty his balls can pay fifty dollars and be on his w
ay, but our clients are looking for the complete experience. We're proxy wives, if you will."
That was a puzzling statement, but then I thought about the night spent sleeping next to a man and I realized the truth in it. "Tell me more."
"Think about it," she said, "John and Truman are in their sixties, so are most of my clients. Some of them are widowers, others have gone through a divorce, and a few have never married. If they are capable of getting it up, they aren't looking for a wife. They don't want to go through the whole bullshit courting process, romancing a woman until she feels comfortable enough to spread her legs. So they bypass that shit and come looking for us."
"How long have you known John?"
"Oh boy. Wow. It's unbelievable when I think about it, but I've known him for nearly twenty years. No, wait, maybe twenty-five. Shit, that's a long time. His wife died young, and they never had any children. She was the love of his life, he said, and he didn't think he would ever find a woman who could replace her," she said.
"I take it, then, that he's quite familiar with escorts."
"Absolutely. I met him maybe a year or two after his wife died. He said he tried dating, but after they started having sex, she began to expect that they would marry. When he told her he had no intention of marrying her or anyone else, she flipped out. He decided then that he'd rather pay for sex than allow a good woman to get her hopes up."
"I don't think that's the General's case. I think that he'll want to get married again," I said.
She smiled and tweaked my nose as if I were a small child. "Honey, don't get your hopes up. You aren't the marrying kind. Not anymore."
I thought about the General's comments from the previous night. He said that he wanted to see me again. He said I wasn't the type of woman who should be escorting. I probably shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, but I thought the General was truly interested in seeing me, Mercy, the woman. It felt like I had gained his approval. I kept that to myself, though. I didn't want Red to place any doubts into my mind. It was nice to dream.
I bounced off the bed, nudging Red's knee when I said, "I think I'm going to take a long, hot soak. I'll just tell the girls that I went on a date with one of your friends. That'll work, right?" Nodding in satisfaction, I walked into my bathroom and began to fill the large tub with hot water. After pouring some sea salt in, I swirled the water with my hand.
Red's head peeked through the doorway. "Do you need me to wash your back?"
I laughed and flicked water in her direction. She squealed, squeezing her eyes shut as the water touched her face. Her head disappeared from the door. Snickering, I heard her run down the steps. "I guess that would be a 'no?' I left your share on your dresser."
I shut the bathroom door and returned to the tub. Stepping into the hot water, I grimaced at the temperature. As I sunk down into the water, I didn't even think about how much that share would be.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
After my bath, I sat at my desk and glanced over my checkbook. Between my pension, the remainder of my savings, and biweekly paychecks, I was able to pay the minimum on my mortgage and cover all of my other bills.
Now, the rent money alone would cover the mortgage payment. As an escort, I could charge $400 for a three-hour date and $3,000 for any overnights. If I went on four dates a week, I could bring in over six thousand a month. One overnight a month would bring in a couple thousand more. I could have the mortgage paid off in five to six months. In eighteen to twenty-four months, I could finish paying off all of Moses's medical bills. After that, I would never have to work again.
Shit. That's if, and only if, I managed not to get arrested.
I left my room to hunt down some food. It would have been such a fine ending to a lovely interlude if the General and I had shared breakfast before leaving the hotel. It was a nice image, but I reminded myself that we really hadn't gone on a date. It was a business transaction. One date closer to financial freedom.
As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, an excited buzz filled the air. Penelope was sipping from a water glass, leaning against the island. She lifted her free hand to her mouth and swallowed a couple of pills. When she caught sight of me, she beamed with anticipation. "She's ready, ladies," she said to Albertine and Melia.
"Hey, I made you a sandwich," Melia said, offering me a plate. I took it and sat at the table. It was only me, Melia, Albertine, and Penelope in the kitchen. I didn't see Red.
"Where's Carol?" I asked, taking a bite of the sandwich.
"She left the house about twenty minutes ago," Melia answered. She set her own plate down on the table. Snapping her napkin over her lap, she gave me an arch look. "She didn't say anything as she left the house. What exactly did you two talk about?"
Could I tell them that I was entering the sex industry? No. I didn't think they could handle knowing that. Melia and Albertine were devout Christians, who in my experience tended to be the most judgmental. Penelope, well, she was just plain snooty.
I bit into my sandwich, hoping to give myself time to gather the right facts. "Yeah, she wanted to know how my date went. I went out with one of her friends."
Penelope walked over to the table and sat down. She had a small bowl of grapes and a fresh glass of water. Albertine followed, carrying a large bowl of vegetable soup. The soup must have been her favorite dish. I didn't see her eat much else.
"Hm. Admiral Croft," said the wren. "No, it was Admiral Craft. You and Carol were talking about him yesterday, I think."
"That's right. It was a double date. Admiral Craft was Carol's date and I was paired with General Washington."
Melia's eyes widened. "He's Black, ain't he?"
"Yep."
"How did you know that?" Penelope asked.
"When was the last time you met a White person with the last name Washington?" Melia asked Penelope.
Penelope's eyes fluttered. She smiled, saying, "Well, General George Washington, of course."
"You met him?" Melia said, peeking through her lashes at Penelope. There was a half-smile on her face as she wiped her fingers with her napkin.
Penelope rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."
Melia grinned. "I do. But like I asked, when was the last time you met a White person named Washington?"
"I can't think of anyone," Albertine said, tasting her soup and smacking her lips as she savored the flavor. She picked up the salt shaker and added some to her soup. Stirring, she said, "Well, stop stalling and tell us about this General Washington."
I wiped my mouth and sat back in my chair. I waited a few heartbeats, allowing the anticipation to build even more. "Well. There's not much to say," I hedged.
Albertine narrowed her eyes at me. For a nun, she seemed mighty interested in my dating activities. "Stop teasing us, Mercy. Tell us the good stuff."
I sat there calmly for a second. Then I pushed away from the back of the chair and drummed my palms against the table. "He has this shiny bald head and I fantasize about rubbing it!"
"Is that all you fantasize about?" Melia asked, a cheeky grin on her face.
"Nope," I answered, returning the same grin.
"Didn't you say that you could have gone the rest of your life without sex?" Albertine piped in.
"I did say that, yes. I could go the rest of my life without sex, but I certainly don't hope to!" I announced. Albertine's eyes widened, but she looked pleased as she ate her soup.
"Well, what else? Surely there's more to him than that," Penelope said.
The side door banged open and Red nearly fell into the kitchen, carrying a bag of groceries. "Hello, lovelies," she said, setting the bags on the kitchen island. "Could I bother someone for a bit of help? I have a few more bags in the car." She slid her purse off her arm and dropped her shoulders in exhaustion. With a slow stagger, she walked over to the table and plucked a grape from Penelope's bowl. Popping it into her mouth, she sneered at Penelope and walked out of the kitchen.
Penelope narrowed her eyes at Red as she left. "I
'm not helping her," she said, sitting back in her chair.
"I'll help her," Albertine said, pushing her chair back from the table. She trotted out the side door while Melia and I remained seated. I looked at Melia. She shrugged and gave me a sheepish look.
"Yeah, I ain't movin' neither," I said, grinning.
Red and Albertine returned to the kitchen, carrying paper bags full of groceries. Red set her bag down and pulled out a few bottles of wine. "I hope you ladies don't mind, but I invited a few friends over this evening."
That snapped me out of my lazy mood. Friends or clients? Most of her friends seemed to be her clients. I was eager to expand my client list, but I wasn't sure how I felt about inviting them into my home. Red and I would know why they were there, but the other girls wouldn't. It seemed risky to invite such trouble.
Penelope's eyes grew round. Her back arched away from the chair as she said, "Actually, I do mind. I don't think you should be inviting strangers into the house."
"They aren't strangers. I know them. I can vouch for them. Mercy knows a couple of them, too," Red said as she stood at the island, removing groceries from the bag.
"Oh, is one of them General Washington?" Albertine asked as she placed food into the refrigerator.
Red beamed, shooting me a glance. "Mercy told you about him? Unfortunately, he won't be here tonight," she said.
"Damn. I was hoping to get a glance at his shiny head," Melia said.
I snorted. Penelope was shooting daggers at Red. Against my better judgment, I decided to intervene, taking on the role of the neutral landlady. "Carol, I personally don't mind having guests." Melia shot me a disbelieving look. She was likely remembering when she first appeared at the house. I tilted my head, ignoring her glance. I should have rejected Red's idea. However, looking at Albertine's eager face, I realized she was looking forward to a social gathering. I didn't think any of Red's clients would be blatant with their intentions, and to my knowledge, Red had never hosted a client here. It might actually be fun.
Have Mercy Page 16
