every trace of the South from my voice.
“It’s not like you do anything but work and go to yoga, so it’s not too hard,” she said. “You need to get a life. What’s the point in living in New York if you’re just going to be boring?”
“Well, the men,” I said. “They’re a lot more handsome here than they are in Wise County.”
Cece giggled, and then she said, “Is that why you’re calling me? Did you meet a man ?”
“Well,” I said.
“You did!” she crowed. “I knew it! Tell me everything. Is he handsome? Of course he’s handsome, you’re so picky. Is he rich ? Did you meet a rich guy? One of those banker types. I bet he went to Vanderbilt and majored in political science. Didn’t he?”
I rubbed my free hand over my face. “Honestly, I have no idea.”
“Oh, I get it,” Cece said. “You’re too busy having sex to talk. That makes sense.”
I laughed. “Cece! That’s not what’s happening.”
“So tell me about him, then,” Cece said. “Are you going to bring him home to meet Mama?”
“It’s not like that,” I said, and sighed heavily. “Look. I met him at work, okay? And it isn’t just—he’s the owner , Cece. He owns the club. And tonight he told me he would pay me a quarter of a million dollars if I’m his for a month.”
The silence dragged on so long that I actually took the phone away from my face to make sure the connection hadn’t dropped. Then, finally, she said, “That sounds like a mess, Sasha.”
“Yep, you said it,” I said. “I feel like I can’t turn him down, you know? Because he’ll fire me. Maybe not right away, but nobody likes a disobedient stripper. He’ll find some reason to get rid of me, and then I’ll have to scramble around to find another job, and—”
“You think he’s that kind of person?” Cece asked.
I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me. “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not.”
“But you like him,” Cece said. “You were talking about him like you like him.”
“Look, I goddamn do, okay,” I said. “That’s the problem. I can’t like him. I can’t afford to. I can’t get distracted. It’s bad for business.”
“What business?” she asked. “You have a job. You’re making—God, Sasha. You’re making more money in a single night than most people in this town make in an entire month. I don’t know why you’re always so worried about money.”
Did she really not know? How could she not know? “Because you’re all depending on me,” I choked out.
Cece was quiet again, for a long time. I waited her out, listening to her breathing. She made a clicking noise with her mouth, and then said, “You know, every month when Mama gets the check you send her, she calls me and cries. Because she’s so grateful and so worried about you. Don’t you know you’ve already given all of us everything we could ever want? Now we just want you to come home.”
“I can’t,” I said. “I can’t yet. I want to—college for the boys, and a good old age for Mama, and maybe—”
“Sugar, you’ve already done it,” Cece said. “Don’t you ever look at those account statements? This isn’t just on you, anymore. I’m done with school in another year, and then I’m going to get a job, a good job, and I can help out too. Tristan says he wants to be a plumber, and you know that’s good, steady work, and Caleb’s talking about going to school and maybe being an engineer. We’re all going to be fine. Come home. I was thinking about moving to Roanoke, maybe, and we could get an apartment there, and you can get your GED, and we’ll be close enough to go home whenever we want. And you won’t have to be so far away, or let those men touch you, or worry about us ever again. Because you’ll be here, and you’ll see how well we’re all doing. You’ll see what a good job you’ve done taking care of everyone.”
I started crying silently, tears running down my cheeks and dropping onto my bare legs.
“It’s not like you do anything but work and go to yoga, so it’s not too hard,” she said. “You need to get a life. What’s the point in living in New York if you’re just going to be boring?”
“Well, the men,” I said. “They’re a lot more handsome here than they are in Wise County.”
Cece giggled, and then she said, “Is that why you’re calling me? Did you meet a man ?”
“Well,” I said.
“You did!” she crowed. “I knew it! Tell me everything. Is he handsome? Of course he’s handsome, you’re so picky. Is he rich ? Did you meet a rich guy? One of those banker types. I bet he went to Vanderbilt and majored in political science. Didn’t he?”
I rubbed my free hand over my face. “Honestly, I have no idea.”
“Oh, I get it,” Cece said. “You’re too busy having sex to talk. That makes sense.”
I laughed. “Cece! That’s not what’s happening.”
“So tell me about him, then,” Cece said. “Are you going to bring him home to meet Mama?”
“It’s not like that,” I said, and sighed heavily. “Look. I met him at work, okay? And it isn’t just—he’s the owner , Cece. He owns the club. And tonight he told me he would pay me a quarter of a million dollars if I’m his for a month.”
The silence dragged on so long that I actually took the phone away from my face to make sure the connection hadn’t dropped. Then, finally, she said, “That sounds like a mess, Sasha.”
“Yep, you said it,” I said. “I feel like I can’t turn him down, you know? Because he’ll fire me. Maybe not right away, but nobody likes a disobedient stripper. He’ll find some reason to get rid of me, and then I’ll have to scramble around to find another job, and—”
“You think he’s that kind of person?” Cece asked.
I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me. “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not.”
“But you like him,” Cece said. “You were talking about him like you like him.”
“Look, I goddamn do, okay,” I said. “That’s the problem. I can’t like him. I can’t afford to. I can’t get distracted. It’s bad for business.”
“What business?” she asked. “You have a job. You’re making—God, Sasha. You’re making more money in a single night than most people in this town make in an entire month. I don’t know why you’re always so worried about money.”
Did she really not know? How could she not know? “Because you’re all depending on me,” I choked out.
Cece was quiet again, for a long time. I waited her out, listening to her breathing. She made a clicking noise with her mouth, and then said, “You know, every month when Mama gets the check you send her, she calls me and cries. Because she’s so grateful and so worried about you. Don’t you know you’ve already given all of us everything we could ever want? Now we just want you to come home.”
“I can’t,” I said. “I can’t yet. I want to—college for the boys, and a good old age for Mama, and maybe—”
“Sugar, you’ve already done it,” Cece said. “Don’t you ever look at those account statements? This isn’t just on you, anymore. I’m done with school in another year, and then I’m going to get a job, a good job, and I can help out too. Tristan says he wants to be a plumber, and you know that’s good, steady work, and Caleb’s talking about going to school and maybe being an engineer. We’re all going to be fine. Come home. I was thinking about moving to Roanoke, maybe, and we could get an apartment there, and you can get your GED, and we’ll be close enough to go home whenever we want. And you won’t have to be so far away, or let those men touch you, or worry about us ever again. Because you’ll be here, and you’ll see how well we’re all doing. You’ll see what a good job you’ve done taking care of everyone.”
I started crying silently, tears running down my cheeks and dropping onto my bare legs.
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