But disasters are really opportunities in disguise, Maxine reminded herself now.
That had been the beginning of her business; totally destitute, she’d answered an ad that same week and been hired on the spot by a company that sold phone sex. They didn’t care that she was pregnant; she had the right voice for the job, they assured her.
At first she’d been shamed, shocked, and horrified at what she was doing. Somewhere deep inside, she was still the daughter of the town minister, Zacharias Bleckner.
But the job paid her rent and bought her food and vitamins, and she got better and better at it.
Within a few weeks, Maxine had realized that she was exceptionally good at the job, and that her ability might be the key to earning a living while staying at home with her baby.
She’d saved every cent she could, enough to pay the first and last months’ rent on this house, get a 900 line installed, and run a few ads. At first calls were sparse, but when she began to attract regular clients, the pace quickly became frantic. She’d hardly slept for months on end, between caring for Graham and answering the phone twenty-four hours a day. And through the haze of exhaustion one thing stayed clear in her mind: she was going to get back the money that she’d loaned Ricky, plus interest. He owed it to her.
And, Polly insisted, Shwartz also had a financial obligation to support Graham. At first Maxine had objected, saying she wanted nothing more from Ricky than what he owed her, but Polly had explained that it wasn't Maxine’s choice; it was Graham’s birthright.
“I’m gonna insist on a DNA test that’ll prove to the court that Graham's his. Then we’ll hit him with expenses and support payments extending back to Graham’s birth.”
Polly made it sound as if it was only a matter of time before it all happened. Although Maxine would never tell Polly so, she privately believed that finding Ricky Shwartz was about as likely as winning the lottery.
Graham was squirming to get down, and Polly reluctantly set him on the floor. “So what’s the score here, Maxine, you in looooove with this dude who's calling you all the time?”
"Oh, gee, yeah, totally. All it takes is a little sweet talk and I fall head over heels.” Maxine simpered, crossing her eyes and assuming a half-witted expression. “Next thing you know, I’ll be loaning him money.”
“Not," they chorused in unison, laughing at their own nonsense.
Polly left, and Maxine gave Graham his supper and then bathed him and put him to bed. When she switched the phone back on, it rang almost instantly, and she caught herself watching the clock as she impatiently dealt with favorite positions and imaginary sex toys.
She very much wanted the line free at eight- thirty, because she was sure Harold would call again, and in spite of what she’d said to Polly, there was something going on with him.
With her, she corrected, making the appropriate moaning sounds into the receiver.
With both of them ?
If only she knew.
Chapter Six
Harry was getting restless because Sadie wouldn’t settle. He read her favorite books to her, twice each: Where the Wild Things Are and I’ll Love You Forever. He sang "You Are My Sunshine,” four repetitions, with an encore of “Closing Time.” He rubbed her back and tried to curb his impatience, and at last—at last—she slept.
He bent over and kissed her head. Her hair smelled of the fragrant fruity shampoo she’d seen on a TV ad and insisted he buy. She was already so female, this child of his. It was frightening, because there were some things he knew about females, but there were also mysteries he had no idea about. He doubted any man did.
He pulled the duvet up over Sadie and glanced at his watch. It was after nine-thirty. He swore under his breath and hurried into his office to dial the now familiar number.
“Lilith here, hello."
The girlish voice with the slight lisp caught him off guard, and he didn’t answer
That had been the beginning of her business; totally destitute, she’d answered an ad that same week and been hired on the spot by a company that sold phone sex. They didn’t care that she was pregnant; she had the right voice for the job, they assured her.
At first she’d been shamed, shocked, and horrified at what she was doing. Somewhere deep inside, she was still the daughter of the town minister, Zacharias Bleckner.
But the job paid her rent and bought her food and vitamins, and she got better and better at it.
Within a few weeks, Maxine had realized that she was exceptionally good at the job, and that her ability might be the key to earning a living while staying at home with her baby.
She’d saved every cent she could, enough to pay the first and last months’ rent on this house, get a 900 line installed, and run a few ads. At first calls were sparse, but when she began to attract regular clients, the pace quickly became frantic. She’d hardly slept for months on end, between caring for Graham and answering the phone twenty-four hours a day. And through the haze of exhaustion one thing stayed clear in her mind: she was going to get back the money that she’d loaned Ricky, plus interest. He owed it to her.
And, Polly insisted, Shwartz also had a financial obligation to support Graham. At first Maxine had objected, saying she wanted nothing more from Ricky than what he owed her, but Polly had explained that it wasn't Maxine’s choice; it was Graham’s birthright.
“I’m gonna insist on a DNA test that’ll prove to the court that Graham's his. Then we’ll hit him with expenses and support payments extending back to Graham’s birth.”
Polly made it sound as if it was only a matter of time before it all happened. Although Maxine would never tell Polly so, she privately believed that finding Ricky Shwartz was about as likely as winning the lottery.
Graham was squirming to get down, and Polly reluctantly set him on the floor. “So what’s the score here, Maxine, you in looooove with this dude who's calling you all the time?”
"Oh, gee, yeah, totally. All it takes is a little sweet talk and I fall head over heels.” Maxine simpered, crossing her eyes and assuming a half-witted expression. “Next thing you know, I’ll be loaning him money.”
“Not," they chorused in unison, laughing at their own nonsense.
Polly left, and Maxine gave Graham his supper and then bathed him and put him to bed. When she switched the phone back on, it rang almost instantly, and she caught herself watching the clock as she impatiently dealt with favorite positions and imaginary sex toys.
She very much wanted the line free at eight- thirty, because she was sure Harold would call again, and in spite of what she’d said to Polly, there was something going on with him.
With her, she corrected, making the appropriate moaning sounds into the receiver.
With both of them ?
If only she knew.
Chapter Six
Harry was getting restless because Sadie wouldn’t settle. He read her favorite books to her, twice each: Where the Wild Things Are and I’ll Love You Forever. He sang "You Are My Sunshine,” four repetitions, with an encore of “Closing Time.” He rubbed her back and tried to curb his impatience, and at last—at last—she slept.
He bent over and kissed her head. Her hair smelled of the fragrant fruity shampoo she’d seen on a TV ad and insisted he buy. She was already so female, this child of his. It was frightening, because there were some things he knew about females, but there were also mysteries he had no idea about. He doubted any man did.
He pulled the duvet up over Sadie and glanced at his watch. It was after nine-thirty. He swore under his breath and hurried into his office to dial the now familiar number.
“Lilith here, hello."
The girlish voice with the slight lisp caught him off guard, and he didn’t answer
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