She didn’t answer, but I knew that she was listening on the other side because I didn’t hear her blubbering or crying or anything like that. The sound of the shower spray remained steady, unbroken, as if it was just running rather than someone standing in its stream. Maybe she was admiring her curvy, decorated body in the mirror. Maybe she was swallowing a bottle of Sominex.I’d said my piece, I wasn’t going to push it. I took the stairs down quietly and hurried through the living room to the kitchen. There was a memo board hanging on the wall next to the yellow rotary phone: a miniature cutting board with a note pad glued to it and a pencil dangling from a piece of yarn. I thought about leaving a note, something thanking her for all her generosity. I remembered then that I hadn’t gotten my ten dollars for the day, but that was the least of my concerns. What to say? My unfinished glass of brown sugar water was sweating on the little kitchen table, next to her cigarettes and ashtray.I. But the smell was everywhere. So I followed the sound of the music back into the dining area where I saw candles. There were candles lit over a set table that looked like a banquet for royalty—silver platters, crystal champagne glasses, gold-plated utensils, gilded china, red velvet table cloth. And leaning up against the plate at the head of the table was an envelope with my name on it. I walked over and picked it up. It was a card with a cherub on the front, pointing an arrow off into a sunny-looking flower garden. Cupid, I guess, but mostly it just reminded me of a little baby. I think it was meant to.To the king of my heart, my dearest Anthony,Words cannot express how deeply I feel for you for all you've done for me. I tried all day to think of some way to tell you how much you mean to me, and finally I just decided it was a lost cause. Words will never be enough. So I decided to show you what you mean to me instead. The lifetime of pampering and seeing to your every pleasure.
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