Her daughter had landed a good job, but the kid, evidently, didn't much value the opportunity. The girl couldn't see past the data-entry, the filing, and the multitude of having to greet with a, "How may I help you...?" portions. Nor would Linda realize the position included tuition benefits, along with decent health insurance. In short, Linda could see a real dentist, and not some hack whose facility was, either two counties over, or in an iffy neighborhood.
The front door clicked open, then shut. Joyce let out a sigh of relief. Within a few moments, she fell asleep.
Six-something pm, the next day.
Joyce, finished putting away the supper she'd cooked, washed the dishes - the dishwasher didn't work, as to when either the manager or landlord would get it repaired, or replaced, that was anybody's guess. She then covered Linda's untouched plate, and put it in the frig - Lin could eat it later, or take it for her lunch.
Joyce then picked up the paperback she had started the day before yesterday. It was one of those just-before-the-rapture stories, and boy was it a turner. It even had bad angels; moloch was a greasy, foul-smelling fallen who got his jollies burning kids; astarte was a real ... female dog, complete with a spiked collar. Meh, not so much like fiction, Joyce had known more than a few hum-dillies in her time.
But those days were so OVER, and good flipping riddance.
Her daughter came through the door.
"You hungry, Lin? I made ..."
The girl responded with the shutting of her bedroom door. But it didn't completely shut, a pink shoe lay between the door and the frame. From inside, Joyce heard her daughter pounce upon the bed; a clatter of ... whatever had joined whatever else lay on the floor. Whatever! If the girl wanted clutter-central, she could have at it. Needful to say, there was no point in making an issue - been there, done that...talk to the wall.
From inside the girl's room, she heard someone at the other end of Lin's cell. Joyce sort of recognized who it was, but she wasn't sure what whoever was ... well, this week. Kids...
The chapter Joyce was reading, centered on a certain predator in pumps ... yeah, ya can't make this stuff up. The story was good. More than a few times, Joyce found herself praying for the author's well being - some guy from Ohio - that he watches himself, when crossing the street.
"I'm in love!"
Down went the book.
While Joyce wasn't one to pry, something told her, there was an agenda at foot, and Lin would, sooner or later, would end up...not happy.
"...had lunch...that office is so fine ... yeah there's a ...umm-hmmm...I mean I...uh-huh, a few times..."
Joyce arose from her recliner - which no longer reclined, only sagged - went into her bedroom, and shut the door. Per her daughter's conversation, Joyce was too upset to read. She opened the window, and lit up a cigarette.
She had been seriously considering quitting...but, oh no, NOT TONIGHT!
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