A Mother's Loss by Jo Crow

Author:Jo Crow [Crow, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-26T22:00:00+00:00

“Seriously?” I’d opened the refrigerator door to pull out some sliced turkey and orange juice, and there was the remote for the living room television. “Really? What the hell’s wrong with me?”

I certainly didn’t remember putting it there. But neither had I remembered moving the table with the plants on it. Could I be so frazzled that I was sleepwalking through life? Or was it the sign of something worse?

At least I remembered watching the news last night, downstairs, then coming into the kitchen and pouring a glass of two percent. Ah, I must have carried the damn remote with me and set it on the shelf when I took out the milk.

It wasn’t a good sign, no matter the explanation.

I needed to calm down and make good on my plan to see a therapist.

I made a sandwich and sat at the kitchen island, pulling out my phone and scrolling, noting that the escort service had sent me a reply. They’d picked the Hampton on the North Shore, not their usual place according to Wisteria’s webpage, but this was nicer, definitely more expensive, near bus and train routes, and I had said “their choice.” The appointment was for 9 p.m., and noted that the charge would be double the listed rates because I wanted two girls.

“And they better the hell send the two I picked.” This would all be wasted if Wisteria and Genevieve did not show. I was determined to get to the bottom of this.

I drove downtown early and checked into the hotel. Since I had time to spare, I visited the hotel bar and ordered a strawberry margarita and a basket of breaded shrimp, which I nibbled on while watching a basketball game on one of the widescreen television sets. I should have called someone, Melissa probably, told her what I was doing. I’d counseled a few young girls through the years who’d run away from home, fallen into sex work, then were recovered by their families. So I knew a little about “the life,” but I’d never had a face-to-face with adult sex workers. Would these women have a gun? Threaten me? Was I an idiot to do this without any backup or telling someone where I was?

I’d brought money with me. Would they rob me?

They wanted money, that was a given. Somehow that had to have made a connection between Graham, a deceased teacher, and me, a psychiatrist with more money than sense. To get some of that money, they’d concocted this awful scheme. It would have been easier just to blackmail me, threaten me, say: “We’re gonna cause a world of trouble for you if you don’t pay up.” And I might have paid up to avoid all of this.

I’d finished the basket of shrimp without realizing it, nervous eating, I guess. The margarita went down and I stopped myself from ordering a second. I needed to clear my head. Maybe after … after my conversation … I’d come back down and drink myself to oblivion.

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