Nicole didn’t get back to her apartment until just before five the next morning. She’d slept most of the plane ride back, but it wasn’t truly restful sleep. Her eyes burned, her calves and knees ached, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed for the next seven hours.
The thought of her own warm bed, her soft blanket and pillow, was nearly too much to bear. But the last thing she wanted was a repeat of the other time she’d gone in late to work after a night out with Red.
So she jumped in the shower instead, changed into her work clothes, put on makeup, and brewed herself a cup of extra strong coffee before she left.
She arrived at work by seven and had yet another cup of coffee. She wasn’t really awake, but she was wired enough to fake it now.
Work was brutal. Remi was giving her more and more to do on the cowboy account, which was great, but demanding.
She finished up by seven that evening and left for home. Throughout the day, she’d gotten four or five texts from Red. They were sweet little reminders that he was thinking of her. She smiled each time she got one.
All she could think about on the train ride home was how badly she wanted to go to sleep.
The bed was calling to her, like a lighthouse calling out to a ship on a foggy night.
She trudged up the steps to her apartment, got out her keys, and that’s when she heard voices—voices inside her apartment.
Those voices—she knew them.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. It was her parents, all the way up from Syracuse.
For an instant, she considered running away—literally. Just taking off and going somewhere for the night, avoiding them entirely. What were they doing here, completely unannounced? Whatever it was, she was to done in from the last twenty-four hours to deal with them.
But she had no choice. She couldn’t just run away from this.
She entered her apartment and smiled.
Everyone stared at her.
Danielle, her mother and father. None of them smiled back. And that’s when her stomach sank.
“Nicole,” her mother said, “we need to talk to you.”
“Can I at least get a hug?” Nicole asked, holding out her arms. Her mother and father each hugged her, but she could tell they were troubled. Upset with her.
She glanced at Danielle, and her roommate looked away. She had something to do with this—that much was clear.
“To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” Nicole said, grinning to hide her rising anger.
“We’re concerned about you,” her father said. He was dressed, as always, in tight blue jeans and a blue linen work shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was a blue-collar guy who was the head mechanic at Jolson’s Auto Repair on Route 32.
Her mother was an administrative assistant at an office supplies store in Fulton. She always wore her heart on her sleeve, and tonight was no different. The tightness in her lips and jaw were the telltale signs that she was incredibly distraught.
“What are you guys concerned about?” Nicole said. “I don’t know what you’ve heard exactly,” she remarked, glancing at Danielle for emphasis, “but I’m doing fine. Great, actually.”
“Sleeping with your boss isn’t doing fine,” her mother said archly.
Her father grunted his agreement.
“Who said I was sleeping with my boss?”
Danielle sighed. “Look, Nicole, I’m sorry I called your parents. But I didn’t know what else to do. You’ve been sneaking around, lying to me—“
Nicole laughed. “I wonder why.”
“The point is,” Nicole’s mother interrupted, “you’re being taken advantage of by a predatory person. You’re a very young girl, just out of college—“
“I’m twenty-two and old enough to make my own decisions.”
Her father put his hands out. “Now everyone just calm down a little.” As usual, nobody listened to his pleas for calm.
“You might be twenty-two, but we’re still paying for your apartment,” her mother shot back.
Nicole pursed her lips. She’d known that she would regret accepting their help with rent. She’d tried to turn them down before moving here, but inside she’d known that getting started in the city would be too difficult without some financial assistance in the beginning.
“Now listen, Nicky,” her father said, walking toward her. “We’re not mad at you. It’s this James character I want a word with.”
Oh my god. James character.
“His name is Red Jameson,” she said. “You might want to at least know his name before you tar and feather him.”
Her mother shook her head. “Nobody said anything about tarring and feathering.”
“People meet people through work,” Nicole said. “It happens all of the time.”
“Not like this,” her mother said.
“How would you know?” she asked, her anger boiling over. “Through all your exciting years at the office supplies store? Working with the twelve different employees?”
Her mother’s eyes flashed. “Do not speak to me that way. I am your mother.”
“You have no right to barge into my apartment—“
“That we pay for—“
“—And tell me how to live my life. You never even bothered to ask me what was going on. You just listened to my obnoxious roommate.”