The Trust

Chapter 24: Tired AF

What's this I hear about you doubting Rob? Of course he's on the level. It's Uncle Rob! Are you going to send the $10k? You have to! This will only work if we all do it.

Unbelievable. I text back, No frigging way. This is a total scam, why can't anyone see that!"

I see the dots again, but shut my phone completely off.  Mom is still talking away, but I haven't been listening to her. 

"Goodnight, Mom." I turn to go up the stairs.

"You just can't walk away, we have to talk this through. If you have any money at all, even if you have to borrow it, just scrape it together and send it to Rob. He says this will only work if he gets all the money up front!"

"Have a good night," I say, climbing the stairs. I never fight with my good natured mother, and I've certainly never dealt with her pestering me for money before. 

I'm too dispirited to deal with any of this. It's too much to handle and I'm tired of everything. It's like one of those sci-fi movies from the 60s where people's bodies and brains were taken over by aliens. No one is thinking clearly, and I haven't got the patience or the energy to save them from themselves. At least not tonight.

At least I have my bedroom to myself. I packed up Clive's clothes and he came to pick them up last weekend. This is now my space alone and it's wonderful. I have the closet all to myself, no more dirty underwear, and socks on the floor to contend with every morning. The bed is always made, and I make sure there are always fresh flowers on the dresser, scenting the room with rose and fresh lilac. I bought myself brand new bedding, including a warm, soft-as-heaven duvet. What used to be a battleground is now my own private sanctuary, and I'm grateful for it.

I turn down the sheets and pause before tucking in. A hot shower would do me some good. I grab my favourite pyjamas from the dresser and head to the en suite, turning on the taps full blast. The steamy water washes away my aches and pains, but not my worries. A shower can only do so much.

I emerge half an hour later in a cloud of jasmine scented steam, feeling soft, clean and much more relaxed. Tomorrow is another day. Maybe a good night's sleep will help me figure this stuff out.

Completing my nightly facial routine, I slather on my favourite moisturizer. I glance at the bottle, remembering I paid $60 for it when I believed "the money was coming in." There's no reason for me to criticize anyone else. I fell for the scam too, taking out a new credit card and running up nearly eight thousand dollars in debt on top of all my other debt. On nothing. 

I so desperately wanted to believe in all of it — luck and destiny and the goodness of people. I wanted to think that all the Cinderellas in the world like me could one day get their pastel castle in the sky. If only they were patient and good enough, luck would surely smile on them. On all of us with a less-than-awesome childhood.

But that's not how the world works. I know that. Everybody else knows it too. The money just made them forget.

I pull on my silk pyjamas and tuck into bed. I've never been so tired in my life, but my mind races. I stare at the ceiling, willing myself to stop thinking about everything — the money scam, the foolish actions of the family and the impending divorce. Already Clive is making threats and demands. He wants to sell the house and split the proceeds. He is out of his mind if he thinks I'm ever going to part with this house.

I snuggle down deeper into the blankets. At first I was comfortable, but now I'm overheating. I kick one leg out, pulling back the duvet.

Mom hasn't asked about Clive, which is good because I don't have the spoons to lie, and I don't want to get into the details. He's been gone for a week now and the house has been peaceful — I want to keep it that way. She probably thinks he's at another conference. I'll tell her the truth when Audrey gets back. 

My body temperature goes back and forth from hot to cold and I can't stop tossing and turning. When I finally settle down and lay still, I hear a tiny tap. Sitting up in bed, there's only silence. Maybe I imagined it, but there it is again, louder this time. I pull on my robe and go to the window, wondering if there's an animal trampling the bushes outside.

I open it and laugh. Father Jake is standing in my backyard holding a familiar red box in one hand and a handful of pebbles in the other. "What is this, a cheesy rom com? Are you here to take me away from all this?" I joke.

"No," he says. "I'm just bored and your phone is off. Want to eat donuts and watch the Leonids?"

"The what?"

"The Leonid meteor shower. It only happens once every 33 years. We might see a shooting star!"

"I doubt it, but ok." I've been meaning to talk to him all day, so I'm pleased to see him. "You're crazy Jake, you know that."

"Yeah. I know."

"Hold on one second till I get dressed."

What the hell, I can't sleep anyway. Might as well get up and go on one of Jake's foolish late-night adventures.

That's the thing about having a crazy friend. They always seem to show up right when you need them.