Tie them tight or they'll fall off. The bathroom is yours for exactly 5 minutes. I have to get Maya to school and get to the office. Evelyn grabbed the sweatpants and marched to the bathroom, her bare feet slapping against the cold lenolium. She shut the door and locked it.
When she looked in the mirror, she recoiled. Her mascara was smeared into dark, bruised rings under her eyes. Her skin was shallow. She looked like a wreck. She looked exactly how Richard and the board wanted her to look.
She turned on the tap, splashed freezing water on her face, and aggressively scrubbed the makeup away with a rough towel. She pulled on the sweatpants. They were massive, bunching around her ankles. She rolled the waistband three times and tied the string. Looking at her reflection, bundled in oversized cheap cotton, she took a ragged breath.
She walked back out to the living room. Owen was shoving a folder into a battered messenger bag. Maya was standing by the door with a bright pink backpack wearing a puffy winter coat. Car is downstairs, Owen said, not looking up. License plate ends in 4G9.
It's prepaid to your building. Evelyn stopped. Prepaid. She remembered the math. He lived in a cheap apartment.
The bills on the table were printed with red urgent stamps. How much was it? She asked. Don't worry about it. I don't accept charity, Owen.
How much? Owen finally looked up. His eyes were cold, completely devoid of the difference she was used to. It was 30 bucks, which means I'm eating ramen for lunch this week. But right now, getting you out of my apartment so I can take my kid to school is worth the 30 bucks.
Go. Evelyn opened her mouth to argue to demand his rooting number to offer him $1,000. But the look on his face stopped her. He didn't want her money. He wanted his life back.
She grabbed the plastic bag containing her ruined dress from the floor by the door. She looked down at Maya. Thank you for the hospitality, Evelyn said stiffly. Maya blinked. Bye, sick lady.
Evelyn looked at Owen. I will reimburse you. Just get in the car, Miss Mercer. Owen said tiredly. He opened the front door.
Evelyn walked out into the narrow cabbage scented hallway and began the slow, humiliating descent down the stairs. By the time she reached the street, the cold November air biting at her bare toes in the oversized sweatpants, the ride share was idling at the curb. She climbed in the back. The driver took one look at her in the rear view mirror and wisely chose not to speak. As the car pulled away, Evelyn looked out the window.