I know what she’s saying, what she’s getting at. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
To hear her say these things, it’s painful for me.
“Thank you for getting us back inside, but I can deal with my own problems,” Phoebe says finally, almost angrily as her eyes move from mine to the door.
Chapter Five
Phoebe
I don’t want him to go. But I don’t want him just paying off my problems like this either. It’s not right.
It’s a lot of money, and I had no idea Mrs. Peterson would or even could turn like this.
It’s like she saw Max and just launched into witch mode. Overriding every time she’s told me it’s okay to be a little behind with rent, as long as I make regular payments.
Now she wants to kick me out, and all because of Max?
It doesn’t make sense.
Nothing makes sense today. Everything that’s happened, how I feel.
Mostly how I feel though.
I know I’ll have to figure something out. I also know I have to get to sleep at some point, I have work tonight.
Max means well, and he can obviously afford it but I can’t. I won’t let him pay for my problems.
It’s not fair. It’s not who I am.
He’s hurt, I can see it in his eyes.
“I’ve got a lot going on Max,” I reason. “I work nights, I have to sleep. Trixie needs a walk and… and…”
Hearing myself, I’m not making a very good case for the man of my dreams, am I?
I can be as stubborn as that old woman can be mean though. I’ll get her the rent money but on my own terms. And if she wants to try to evict me, then I’ll deal with that if and when it happens.
She’s old, probably just venting. She’ll change her tune when I give her some cash, like every other time. I’m sure of it.
The new boss at the box factory isn’t such a hard case, maybe I could get an advance or borrow some money from somewhere.
It just doesn’t feel right having a total stranger step in and help me like this.
Total stranger? You forgetting the effect this ‘total stranger’ has on you. The effect you have on him?
Trixie is in my arms, and she knows just when to let herself be heard. She lets out a loud yap, answering my own internal dialogue.
Or maybe she really does just need to go for a walk.
Oh, I just don’t know. It’s all too hard all of a sudden and I’m the worst when I haven’t had enough sleep.
I can’t even remember when I ate last either.
Max is picking up on my thinking too, despite his own wounded pride from what I’ve said so far, he’s a man of the world. Mature and sensible enough to read the situation.
He takes gentle command of the situation, pausing thoughtfully before he makes his own suggestion.
“How about this,” he says, coming a little closer and making me want to touch him again.
“I can loan you the money to pay your rent. Even charge interest if it makes you feel better,” he suggests.
The look on his face is so sincere, so boyish. Like he’ll burst if I say no and ask him to leave, I can’t help but cave in.
“A loan,” I tell him firmly. “Just until I can get it together for you, shouldn’t take too long,” I reason aloud.
If I skip eating like I have been, get used to cold showers, and learn to live in the dark. Sure. I could pay you back in no time.
His face brightens, that winning smile making me melt inside. Feeling like a fool for even refusing him anything, especially his offer to help.
“That’s better,” he tells me, giving a cautionary wag of his own finger as he chuckles.
“I thought you were gonna toss me out just now. And we’re just getting to know each other.”
His face falls a little as he gauges my reaction while I groan softly to myself.
“Oh. Max. I have to sleep and be fresh for work. If I don’t work I can’t pay you or anyone anything,” I tell him, feeling the familiar knot of anxiety twisting like tangled laundry in my gut.
He frowns, but I can tell he’s thinking too. Thinking what he has to say or do to make things-
Make things what? Perfect?
I don’t think there is such a thing. And glancing at the clock again I realize I should already be asleep, as well as noticing the yellow envelope that was by the door isn’t there anymore.
Did I dream it? Maybe Trixie did something with it while I was outside. Like I said, today is just too much to deal with right now.
The thought of a twelve-hour shift at the box factory looms heavy in my mind too.
“You know,” Max says suddenly, trying to sound cheerful. “My dad, who you spoke to on the phone, seemed to think you might be in some other kind of trouble or something. How crazy is that?” he asks me, tilting his head as he waits for my reaction.