Covet (Splendor Book 1)
Page 8
Tessa never complained, though. It was more than enough for her to have a place to shower and clean up, and where she could store her toiletries and a few of her things without having to cart them around in her trunk all the time. Peter’s confidence that his mother would never even notice Tessa’s presence had thus far been well founded, and over the past few weeks he’d even begun to invite her inside the main house when Mrs. Lockwood was at work. They often did their laundry together at the same time, saving Tessa the time and expense of going to the laundromat.
The amount of junk stored in the in-law unit should have prepared her for what was contained inside the main house, but Tessa hadn’t been able to stop from staring in disbelief at the condition of the place. Used as she was to living in rather spartan quarters with just the bare necessities most of the time, she was unable to comprehend how someone could live in such a state – with boxes and bins and bags stacked from floor to ceiling and on every available surface or piece of furniture. Peter had created a narrow pathway that led down the hallway to his bedroom and bathroom, both of which were neat and tidy with no trace of the clutter that existed elsewhere in the house.
She’d begun to spend most evenings with him in his room, doing homework or watching TV or eating a late dinner. Mrs. Lockwood worked the swing shift at her job – four p.m. to midnight – and was never around when Tessa hung out with Peter. On weekends, she indulged her other compulsion – drinking – and would spend those evenings making the rounds of the bars with her friends. According to Peter, his mother was what he termed a “functioning alcoholic” – usually able to hold down a job and manage her daily chores. But on weekends in particular she would drink – a lot – and was either stinking drunk or nursing a bad hangover most of the time, and Peter would go out of his way to avoid her.
Tessa sensed that there was more – a whole lot more – about Peter’s relationship with his mother that he hadn’t divulged. He truly seemed to hate her, to hold some sort of bitter grudge against her, and spoke often about how he couldn’t wait to move out on his own. He had turned eighteen in the middle of May – less than two weeks before Tessa’s own seventeenth birthday – and was due to graduate from high school within the next few days. But when she’d quizzed him about why he wasn’t planning to leave right after that, he’d only muttered something about needing to save a little more money before he could manage that. Tessa hadn’t pressed for more details, but guessed that there was a story behind that, too.
Over the past few weeks, she’d gradually grown closer to Peter, confiding things in him that she’d never told anyone else before – about her mother and how hard their life had been; about her difficulties in school and how she felt stupid most of the time; and about those times when she had to fight off her own bouts of depression and worry that she was going to become like her mother.
Peter had sympathized with the hardships she’d endured growing up; had assured her time and time again that she was actually very bright, and had helped her with homework; had shared the research he’d done to show that while bipolar disorder could be hereditary, there were other factors to be considered as well and that Tessa wasn’t necessarily at risk.
He had arranged to get her car window replaced, and was constantly offering her food and supplies. When she’d protested that she could buy her own toilet paper, Peter had just laughed and showed her the stockpile his mother had accumulated.
“She probably buys a few dozen rolls every time she goes shopping,” he’d told her. “Like there’s suddenly going to be a shortage or something. There must be a few hundred rolls in this pile. I doubt she’ll miss half a dozen.”
And more and more, without even being aware it was happening, Tessa had begun to depend on him – both for his friendship and his guidance. After so many years of having to look out for her mother, of worrying about how they were going to pay the rent, or when Gillian was going to uproot them yet again, it was a relief to have someone to rely on at least a little. Even though she was still relegated to sleeping in her car, Tessa felt safe knowing that Peter was just a short distance away, that all she would have to do was send him a text and he’d be right over.
But there was nothing in the least bit romantic about their relationship. Peter had never attempted to kiss her or indicate that he was interested in her that way. She wondered at times if he was gay, but nothing he had ever said gave her cause to believe that. She did know that he disliked being touched, would almost cringe if she casually touched him on the arm or shoulder, though he didn’t seem to have a problem touching her in a similar manner. A few of their co-workers at Old Navy had made comments to her from time to time, asking if she and Peter were dating, and she had truthfully replied that no, they were just good friends. The evenings they spent in his room watching a movie or eating tacos certainly couldn’t be considered a date, and were no different than the times she’d done the same thing with Michelle.
He was kind to her, and Tessa hadn’t known much kindness in her life, so that automatically made her grateful to him. She told him frequently how much she appreciated everything he’d done for her, and that she wished she had someway to repay him. Peter had assured her that just being his friend was more than enough, and that he knew she would do the same if their positions were reversed.
Tessa’s life had fallen into a comfortable though somewhat unorthodox daily routine, and she had begun to think she could actually pull this off, could keep up this sort of existence for another year until she was of legal age. She and Peter had applied for summer jobs at the local Parks and Recreation department, and while the pay wasn’t great – barely over minimum wage – the money she’d earn would be added to what she had already saved in preparation for living on her own next year.
But history had a nasty way of repeating itself when one was least expecting it, and mere days before Peter’s graduation and the end of the school term – on a Wednesday, of course – the other shoe was dropped, and Tessa’s life as she knew it was shaken up yet again.
It was during her break at work when she noticed the voice mail on her cell phone. She recognized the number as Michelle’s, and frowned worriedly as she began to listen to the message. Michelle had quit her job at Forever 21 almost a month ago, and hadn’t kept in close touch, so for her to be calling out of the blue this way couldn’t possibly be good news.
“Tessa, hey, it’s Michelle. Sorry I haven’t called in awhile, life’s been a little crazy. I’m staying with Denny now, and we plan on leaving for San Diego at the end of June. But that’s not why I’m calling. I – oh, crap, no way to break it to you gently, I’m afraid. Stupid Brittany opened her big fat mouth and blabbed to your case worker when she stopped by for an unannounced visit that you aren’t living at the house any longer. And of course the woman called Mom right away, and that’s when all hell broke loose apparently. Mom’s furious at Brit because this means the support checks are going to be stopped, and your case worker is pissed at Mom for keeping her in the dark. Anyway, the bottom line is that your case worker is planning to come by your school tomorrow morning and have the principal call you in for a meeting, so I thought you should be prepared. Hey, give me a call when you get this and I’ll fill you in on the rest.”
With shaking fingers, Tessa placed the call to Michelle, though there really wasn’t a whole lot more to tell. Michelle had evidently received the information second hand, so she didn’t have all the facts, but it was more than enough to send Tessa into a panic. She was quivering all over by the time she ended the call, her phone almost slipping from her nerveless fingers.
“Hey, what’s going on?” asked Peter in concern as he walked inside the employee break room. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
She raised tear-filled eyes to him, her mouth trembling as she fought back tears. “Worse. A monster.”
Peter remained as calm and impassive as always while he listened to her recount the phone conversation with Michelle. At the end of it, he merely
gave her hand a little squeeze and told her quietly, “We’ll figure something out, okay? I don’t want you to worry about it, Tessa.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “How can I not worry about it? By this time tomorrow I’m going to be living in some awful group home, Peter, with recovering drug addicts and juvies for roommates. I – I can’t live in a place like that, Peter. I just can’t. I don’t think I’d be able to stand it.”
He took hold of both her hands in his and gripped them firmly. “You won’t have to. I promise, okay? Let me think about this for a little while. By the time we head home I’ll have come up with a solution. Try not to worry about it until then, hmm?”
But it was all Tessa could think about for the next two hours, despite Peter’s admonitions. Fortunately it was a slow night at the store and nobody noticed how distracted and out of sorts she was. She fretted about what might happen to her when she met with the case worker tomorrow, worried as to where she might be living twenty four hours from now, and wondered somewhat wildly if she ought to just grab the few things she’d stored at Peter’s and drive as far and as fast as she could.
By the time their shifts were over for the evening, Tessa was a bundle of nerves and rapidly beginning to descend into real despair. Peter, on the other hand, had a look of grim determination on his face as they walked out to their cars.
“Let’s go over to Starbuck’s and I’ll tell you about the idea I’ve come up with,” he told her. “It’s not ideal, and you might not go along with it, but it’s the only solution that seems workable on such short notice.”
Fifteen minutes later Tessa was staring across the table from him, clutching her cup of tea as though for reassurance. “You want to what? I mean, why would you do something like that, Peter? It’s not like you and I are – well, you know.”
“Dating. Involved. Yeah, I know, Tess. And there are things you’d need to know about me if we decide to go through with this. But for now all I can tell you is that we wouldn’t be doing this for the usual reasons. It would just be to get you out of this mess. And then, a year from now when you turn eighteen, it would all be over with. We could get a quick annulment and go our separate ways.”
Tessa shook her head in disbelief. “You would actually marry me so that I didn’t have to go into foster care? I mean, would they even let us do that? And would it work? Would my case worker accept that you’d be legally responsible for me?”
Peter shrugged. “Why not? We wouldn’t be the first couple to get married where the bride isn’t eighteen yet. What we would need, however, is for Michelle’s mother to sign this form giving her consent. She is considered your legal guardian, isn’t she? Able to sign papers and such for you?”
“I guess so.” Tessa glanced at the marriage license application that Peter had quickly printed on the office computer back at the store. “But I’m guessing as of tomorrow that will all change.”
“That’s why we need to go see her tonight,” Peter declared. “Now, in fact. Give Michelle a call and have her find out if Debbie is home. You and I will pay Debbie a little visit, get her signature on this. And then bright and early tomorrow morning we can stop by the courthouse and apply for the license and then make an appointment to, well, get married.”
Tessa tried very hard not to feel dazed at how quickly all of this seemed to be unfolding. “What if Debbie gives me a hard time about signing the form? Not that she gives a damn about me, but she’s probably pretty mad about everything that’s happened.”
Peter shrugged. “She shouldn’t be mad at you. After all, you kept her little secret for these past couple of months, let her keep receiving those checks. And that will be our bargaining chip. We tell her that if she signs the form without any fuss, that you’ll assure your case worker that you just moved in with me a couple of nights ago. Not a couple of months ago. That way Debbie doesn’t have to pay back the money.”
Tessa shuddered at the very thought of confronting Debbie again, but decided it had to be better than being sent to an unknown group home. “You really think she’ll cooperate?”
Peter gave her a thumbs-up sign. “Leave it to me, okay? I guarantee that when we leave there in a little while she’ll be willing to sign anything we put in front of her.”
She stared down into her cup of tea for long seconds, the unsettled feeling deep down in her belly growing in intensity with each passing minute. “Why are you so willing to do all of this for me, Peter?” she asked quietly. “This – what you’re offering to do – goes way beyond friendship. I can’t believe you’d actually go to such lengths just to help me out.”
“I would, Tessa,” he assured her, giving her hand a quick squeeze. “I understand what it’s like to be alone and afraid with no one else to turn to. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially not someone like you who’s been so nice to me. And, well, there might just be a hidden benefit to all of this for me.”
Tessa glanced up at him curiously. “Like what?”
Peter took a sip of his coffee, seeming more than a little hesitant to continue their discussion. “Remember how I told you that I came real close to moving out of the house about a year ago?” At her nod, he continued. “Well, there was more to it than not being of legal age to sign a lease. I’m pretty sure that if I’d looked hard enough I could have found someone willing to rent to me, or at least sublet. But the real reason I didn’t move out – couldn’t move out – was because my mother found my checkbook one day and pretty much wiped out my account. Everything I’d worked to save for a whole year she just wrote herself a check and left me to start over again.”
She stared across the table at him, aghast. “Oh, my, God. How could she do something like that to her own son? You – you didn’t report her to the bank or anything?”
He shook his head. “To answer your first question, if you knew my mother – which, fortunately, you’ll never have to do – you’d realize that raiding my checking account is the least of the sins she’s committed against me. And second, well, in spite of everything she is still my mom. Blowing the whistle on her just wasn’t something I could bring myself to do. Besides, if she’d been arrested or charged with a crime there was a strong possibility I would have been put in a foster home myself. And as bad as my life with her has been, at least I knew what I had to deal with.”
“So what does all of this have to do with your offer to marry me? It seems pretty one-sided to me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” corrected Peter. “I figure if we pool our resources we’d have more than enough to rent a room together someplace. I know I don’t have quite enough saved, and I figured you’d been saving some money these past few months.”
“Yes.” Tessa told him the approximate amount in her checking account, and a look of relief crossed his features.
“That’s more than enough,” he assured her. “I mean, assuming that you’d be okay with an arrangement like that? We don’t have enough to get an apartment of our own, given the amount we’d have to fork over for a security deposit and two months rent, but I figured you wouldn’t mind living in a shared rental.”
“Not at all,” she replied quickly. “And I know there are vacancies available since classes ended at the university a couple of weeks back.”
“I’ve already made a couple of phone calls,” replied Peter. At her look of surprise, he gave a sheepish shrug. “If we’re going to convince your case worker that this is all for real, we have to be prepared, have a plan. If we can show her that we’ve already started looking for a room to rent, she’ll be more likely to believe us.”
Tessa heaved a sigh. “Sorry, but I don’t have a real good feeling about all of this. I mean, today’s a Wednesday, after all.”
At Peter’s puzzled expression, she quickly told him about how this particular day of the week had always seemed cursed to her, how nearly every bad thing that had happened in her life had occurred on a Wednesday.
“Well, tomorrow is a Thursday,” he told her firmly,
“so we have to hope that turns out to be a lucky day for us. What time do you have to be at school tomorrow?”
Tessa had two more days of school remaining, and only had to show up to take her final exams. “Not until ten-thirty.”
“Good. The courthouse opens at eight, so if we get there early we can apply for the marriage license and have it in hand when and if your case worker shows up at your school. And with any luck they’ll have an opening for us to get married within the next couple of days.”
“So soon?” Her head really was spinning now at how quickly all of this was happening.
“The sooner the better,” declared Peter. “Not only to satisfy your case worker, but so you can stop sleeping in your car. And so that I can finally get out of that hellhole.”
“You’re really sure?” Tessa asked him worriedly. “This seems like an awful lot for me to be asking of you.”
“I’m sure,” he told her gently. “And you aren’t asking a thing of me, I’m offering.”
Tears blurred her vision for a few seconds until she impatiently brushed them away. “This is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” she whispered brokenly. “You – you’re most likely saving me from having to live in some horrible place for the next year.”
Peter took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “We’re saving each other, Tess. It goes both ways, okay? And while I might be saving you from an uncertain future, you are definitely saving me from a terrible past.”
Four Months Later
Tessa huddled deeper inside her sleeping bag, pulling it up over her head as she groaned, “How much longer do you think they can possibly keep this up?”
Peter grimaced as he glanced up from the book he’d been reading. “Guess none of them have early classes tomorrow. Then again, that doesn’t seem to matter much, does it? Here, try using the headphones and see if they help block out the noise a little.”
She accepted them gratefully, and while they did help to muffle the sounds of the wild party going on elsewhere in the house, she knew that nothing would do the trick completely. Except, of course, moving out of the house she and Peter shared with four other roommates – roommates who were overly fond of hosting loud parties that usually lasted until the wee hours of the morning.