Esme and the Money Grab: (A Very Dark Romantic Comedy) Read Free Page B

heat. “Sorry, Mom.” She said in an exaggerated way.
      That was another aspect of my home life I didn’t love. The two of them treated me as if I were a stick in the mud, as if I were their mother. Sometimes they would literally jump up and run to their rooms when I would come home.
      I know they liked me, and I liked them but I didn’t like being in the position of having to create the chore sheet every week, or of having to collect the money from them to pay the bills. Mara was thirty-two and was even more irresponsible than Belinda if that were possible.
      “Strange day…” I didn’t see the point in continuing. They would never understand. The two of them went from job to job, never worrying about whether things would work out or not.
      I didn’t have that luxury. I’m a firm believer that America is the land of opportunity, but as a non-white women, I had to watch my step. You know what happens when a woman like me spends her days innocently getting wasted with her friends? The harsh cycle of poverty.
      Belinda and Mara were considered free-spirits. Their families could jump in and save them if they fell too far. Me? I would be considered a statistic, a cliché of bad choices leading to my ruin, lazy, undisciplined. No family to save me. I was on my own in life.
      The stress of having no one depend on other than myself hit me with the force of a hurricane as I stood in the living room. I suppose my old landlord would help if I ever truly needed it, but he had already done so much for me. “I’m going to my room to take a nap,” I stumbled past her as the heat of the room caused me to breakout into a sweat. My ridiculous dress clung to me in the most uncomfortable way.
      I stripped off my dress with joy in my heart. Never again would I have to wear the borderline-kinky costume. Good riddance.
      I turned my fan on to maximum and jumped on to the silky quilted cover. It was one of the only things I had kept from my childhood home. My mother had loved quilting, but never had much time to pursue her hobby and most of the others she had made were given away as gifts.
      As I said before, my mother was a sainted woman, so beautiful, even as age nipped at her heels. The slight loss of fat in her face that comes with growing older only made her dark eyes more striking. I missed her.
      My pleasant memories of my mother were interrupted by a pounding on the wall. Mara and her boyfriend… They did love their loud and acrobatic sex. I normally laughed it off, but not that day. I pounded my fist in the wall. They were silent for a moment, but quickly resumed, but to her credit with a lower level of passion.
      It wasn’t good enough. If I could have at that moment walked out the door and never come back, I would have. It was not to be because I’m a practical person. There was no way I could afford to live on my own and attend school. “Two more quarters and I graduate, and my real life will begin,” I screamed out like a crazy woman into my room.
      My real life to be… I wasn’t sure which direction it would take. There wasn’t anything I yearned to be. I wanted high financial stability, with a job that held my interest and had a path to a higher level. Being a certified nurse assistant met the first qualification on my wish list, but not the other two.
      The owner of the temp agency had told me he could place me at one of the larger talent agencies as an executive assistant with a starting salary of 80,000 a year when I graduated college. He assured me that there would be room for growth in the film industry, if that was what I wanted. So this would be my dream job, so to speak.
      I loved going to the movies, and had taken a film appreciation class at UCLA. It was definitely an exciting option, but it didn’t fill me with a passion. I began to wonder if that’s just the way it was, maybe good enough was good enough. I had already come so far.
      Again my pondering thoughts