Before that, she was a waitress. This was a big step up.
We got an apartment in a decent part of the city. Not too much crime, no graffiti on the buildings. Little by little, we started getting all the things we dreamed of. Nice kitchen appliances. A set of furniture for the living room. A flat-screen TV . We even got a car. It was used, sure, but we didn’t care. Our last car wasn’t even from this century. Sometimes it didn’t even work. Now we had a steel-gray 2000 Chevrolet Caprice. It ran like a dream.
We were coming up in the world.
For my twentieth birthday, right before I graduated, Moms gave me a present. It was a suit. But not just any suit. It was a pin-striped wool Turnbull & Asser. She also gave me a pair of Tanino Crisci shoes and an Underwood briefcase. It must have cost her thousands. I told her to take it all back. But she said she wanted me to look my best when I started going on job interviews. The world judges a man by how he looks, she said.
I don’t think I ever saw my moms really happy until we moved here. And I was happy too. We had it rough for a long time. Happiness was a welcome change.
Then came the life-insurance exam.
Moms wanted some security for me, in case anything happened to her. She could get a good deal on a policy, but she had to go see a doctor first. No big deal, right?
Except the doctor found a spot on her lungs. “Oops,” he said. “You better get that checked out.”
So she did. There wasn’t just one spot. There were more. It turned out to be advanced lung cancer. How did that happen? Moms didn’t even smoke.
I’ll make a long story short. I don’t like feeling sorry for myself.
There was to be no life insurance. Soon, my moms was too sick to work. She lost her health insurance. I took care of her as best I could. She passed away in a public hospice, in a room full of other dying people. I was holding her hand.
At least I was there for her. Some folks in that place died alone.
I kept on trying to find a job. No one was interested. Times are tough.
Soon our building went co-op. I couldn’t afford to buy in. They told me I had to leave.
I sold all the things we were so proud of: television, furniture, appliances. That gave me some cash. Not much though. Enough to get by for a couple of months.
I started looking for a new apartment. But guess what? Landlords don’t want tenants who don’t have a job. It’s that simple. No job, no apartment. That’s the way it works.
I moved the few things I still owned into the trunk of my car. The first night I had to sleep in the backseat, I vowed it would be the last.
But it wasn’t.
Boom. Just like that, I was homeless.
It really is that easy to lose everything, all in the blink of an eye.
RAPID READS
978-1-55469-288-0 $9.95 pb
When everything goes wrong at once, Missy
Turner begins to make some unusual choices.
Missy Turner thinks of herself as the most ordinary woman in the world. She has a lot to be thankful for—a great kid, a loving husband, a job she enjoys and the security of living in the small town where she was born. Then one day everything gets turned upside down—she loses her job, catches her husband making out with the neighbor and is briefly taken hostage by a young man who robs the local café. With her world rapidly falling apart, Missy finds herself questioning
the certainties she's lived with her whole life.
RAPID READS
978-1-55469-262-0 $9.95 pb
Someone is killing some of Charlie D's
favorite listeners.
Charlie D is the host of a successful late-night radio call-in show that offers supportive advice to troubled listeners. Love You to Death takes place during one installment of "The World According to Charlie D"— two hours during which Charlie must discover who is killing some of the most vulnerable members of his audience.
RAPID READS
978-1-55469-337-5 $9.95 pb
It will take all of Charlie D's skills to
keep this Halloween from being another "Day
of the Dead."
Charlie D is
We got an apartment in a decent part of the city. Not too much crime, no graffiti on the buildings. Little by little, we started getting all the things we dreamed of. Nice kitchen appliances. A set of furniture for the living room. A flat-screen TV . We even got a car. It was used, sure, but we didn’t care. Our last car wasn’t even from this century. Sometimes it didn’t even work. Now we had a steel-gray 2000 Chevrolet Caprice. It ran like a dream.
We were coming up in the world.
For my twentieth birthday, right before I graduated, Moms gave me a present. It was a suit. But not just any suit. It was a pin-striped wool Turnbull & Asser. She also gave me a pair of Tanino Crisci shoes and an Underwood briefcase. It must have cost her thousands. I told her to take it all back. But she said she wanted me to look my best when I started going on job interviews. The world judges a man by how he looks, she said.
I don’t think I ever saw my moms really happy until we moved here. And I was happy too. We had it rough for a long time. Happiness was a welcome change.
Then came the life-insurance exam.
Moms wanted some security for me, in case anything happened to her. She could get a good deal on a policy, but she had to go see a doctor first. No big deal, right?
Except the doctor found a spot on her lungs. “Oops,” he said. “You better get that checked out.”
So she did. There wasn’t just one spot. There were more. It turned out to be advanced lung cancer. How did that happen? Moms didn’t even smoke.
I’ll make a long story short. I don’t like feeling sorry for myself.
There was to be no life insurance. Soon, my moms was too sick to work. She lost her health insurance. I took care of her as best I could. She passed away in a public hospice, in a room full of other dying people. I was holding her hand.
At least I was there for her. Some folks in that place died alone.
I kept on trying to find a job. No one was interested. Times are tough.
Soon our building went co-op. I couldn’t afford to buy in. They told me I had to leave.
I sold all the things we were so proud of: television, furniture, appliances. That gave me some cash. Not much though. Enough to get by for a couple of months.
I started looking for a new apartment. But guess what? Landlords don’t want tenants who don’t have a job. It’s that simple. No job, no apartment. That’s the way it works.
I moved the few things I still owned into the trunk of my car. The first night I had to sleep in the backseat, I vowed it would be the last.
But it wasn’t.
Boom. Just like that, I was homeless.
It really is that easy to lose everything, all in the blink of an eye.
RAPID READS
978-1-55469-288-0 $9.95 pb
When everything goes wrong at once, Missy
Turner begins to make some unusual choices.
Missy Turner thinks of herself as the most ordinary woman in the world. She has a lot to be thankful for—a great kid, a loving husband, a job she enjoys and the security of living in the small town where she was born. Then one day everything gets turned upside down—she loses her job, catches her husband making out with the neighbor and is briefly taken hostage by a young man who robs the local café. With her world rapidly falling apart, Missy finds herself questioning
the certainties she's lived with her whole life.
RAPID READS
978-1-55469-262-0 $9.95 pb
Someone is killing some of Charlie D's
favorite listeners.
Charlie D is the host of a successful late-night radio call-in show that offers supportive advice to troubled listeners. Love You to Death takes place during one installment of "The World According to Charlie D"— two hours during which Charlie must discover who is killing some of the most vulnerable members of his audience.
RAPID READS
978-1-55469-337-5 $9.95 pb
It will take all of Charlie D's skills to
keep this Halloween from being another "Day
of the Dead."
Charlie D is
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