"Hi, I'm home," Eileen called out as she walked into the house. When she peeked into the living room, she was surprised to see Hector there with her father. "Oh . . .hi."
"Hello, Eileen," Hector greeted her with a toothy smile.
"Where have you been?" Arthur asked.
"At Lucy's, visiting with her and the baby," Eileen answered. "What's he doing here?"
"I'm just visiting with your dad. He is my former boss," Hector answered.
"I've got to go change," Eileen said slowly as she backed out of the room. Hector's presence there made her nervous. She had the feeling he was up to something, but she didn't want to be around to find out what that might be.
Once they were seated at a table in the quiet cafeteria, Veronica began to talk about her problems. "Arthur just hasn't been the same since his stroke. I like to think that I'm a patient person, but he's just getting more impossible to live with."
"It's very common for a patient to experience a change in attitude and personality after a stroke."
"I know, but I don't think his problem is as much physical as it is psychological. It's not as easy for him to get around and he's not working anymore. He had been planning on retiring for years, but now that he feels like he's been forced into it, he can't accept it. I don't know what I'm going to do. If things don't change . . ."
"Then what?" he asked eagerly.
"I don't know." She shook her head. "I guess we'll just have to be miserable together for the rest of our lives."
"I thought for a minute you were going to say you would leave him," he said with a nervous chuckle.
"Oh, God no, of course not," Veronica said with a gasp.
"Some people would . . . I've seen it happen before."
"I'm not some people."
"Of course you're not . . . I didn't mean to suggest you were," Edward said, trying to hide his embarrassment.
"I know," Veronica apologized. "But it's not his fault. He's having a difficult time right now and I couldn't even think of leaving him because he's in a time of need . . . I think the only option we have, at this point, is therapy. If he won't go, then I'll have to go by myself."
"Hey there, Lawrence. Come on in," Hector said cheerfully as he answered the Townsend's front door.
"What are you doing here?" Lawrence asked.
"Just having a little chat with Mr. Townsend," Hector said as he led Lawrence towards the living room. "I found out an interesting piece of information awhile back that I think he deserves to know about." He paused to look back at Lawrence, who still wore the same skeptical expression he had when Hector had opened the door. "Actually, I'm glad you stopped by, Lawrence, because I think this might concern you too."
"What are you talking about, Hector?" Arthur asked.
"I don't know how to break this to you," Hector said, his tone suddenly serious. "but I know what Eileen has been up to at nights. She dropped this." He handed the slip of paper Eileen had dropped on campus to Arthur. "As her father, I thought you should know."
"What is it?" Lawrence asked sternly as Art looked the paper over.
Hector answered for him, "It's a pay stub made out to Eileen Townsend from a 1-900 number . . . you know, like the ones that advertise on television late at night."
A silence fell over the room that was only interrupted by the sound of Eileen's footsteps coming down the stairs.
"Hi, Lawrence. I thought I heard the doorbell . . ." She looked from Lawrence to Hector to her father, trying to interpret the reason behind the tension in the room. "What's going on?"
"That's what I want to know, young lady. What is the meaning of this?" Arthur asked, handing the pay stub to Eileen.
"I can explain. I just needed some extra spending money since you cut back my allowance. I know I should have told you, but I was afraid you'd tell me to quit."
"Of course I would tell you to quit! I'm not going to allow my daughter to sell herself and her dignity to any filthy pervert who can pick up a telephone."
"What?" Eileen cried out. "Filthy perverts? What do you think it is that I do?"
"Don't try to justify this. It says right here that you've been working for a 1-900 number. One of those, I don't know what they call it . . . chat lines."
"Oh my gosh," Eileen gasped. "You really think I would do something like that? How could you think that?"
"I wouldn't have thought it if I hadn't seen it right here in front of me."
"That number isn't for what you think. It's not a phone sex line. It's for the psychic friends network. If you don't believe me, you can call and find out for yourself."
"Psychic friends network?" Arthur repeated. He still wasn't sure what was going on, but he was beginning to calm down a bit.
"Yes! People call in and ask about their futures. They want to know if they're going to find love or be rich or find happiness. I can't believe you thought . . . Oh my God!"
Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. "With you sneaking out at nights and taking this job without saying anything about what you've been doing, how do I know what to believe? Regardless, you're going to quit that job and I want you to start spending more time at home. Starting tonight."
"But, Dad-" Eileen protested.
"If you really want a job we'll find something that's more sensible for you to do." He looked around as if he just noticed that Lawrence and Hector were still in the room. "I think you two should go. Eileen and I need to talk about this alone."
"I don't think there's anything else to be said about it. Besides Lawrence and I already have plans." She turned to Lawrence, eager to get away from there. "Are you ready to go?"
"Eileen!" Arthur called after her, but she was already at the front door.
Lawrence looked at Arthur and shrugged, before following after Eileen.
No comments:
Post a Comment