Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
My muttered, “Thank you,” is lost on her as she reenters the backroom.
A moment later, she exits with two small boxes. “The shampoo comes with a comb and a special oil. You’ll have to spray the room and leave it closed for thirty minutes before airing it well.”
I wring my hands together. “The thing is, I don’t have money on me, but my husband—”
She snatches her hands away, all but hiding the boxes behind her back. “Why didn’t you say so from the start instead of wasting my time?” She juts her chin toward the mountains. “You can go to the public clinic in Bastia. They’ll treat you for free.”
“Please,” I say when she turns on her heel, suppressing the urge to hold her back with a hand on her arm. “I don’t have a car. I can’t get to Bastia.”
The corners of her mouth turn down as she drags a gaze over me. “I don’t run a charity.”
“I don’t want it for free. My husband will pay.” At least, I hope he will.
She narrows her eyes. “Where are you staying?”
Throwing a thumb over my shoulder, I indicate the seaside. “In the house on the cliff.”
She goes stiff, suspicion thick in her voice. “Who did you say your husband is?”
I swallow before I can utter the name again, but the sound comes out scratchy. “Angelo.” I clear my throat. “Angelo Russo.”
At the mention of his name, the change that comes over her is so remarkable I’m too dumbstruck to move. Shock bleeds into her eyes and contempt thins her mouth before she manages to school her features.
Adopting an expressionless mask, she squares her shoulders and says in a hostile tone, “I don’t want his money.”
Her reaction baffles me so much that I’m at a loss for words. I only jump back into action when she opens the door.
I touch her shoulder. “Wait, please.” When she arches away from the touch as if I’m contagious, which I am right now, I pull my hand away. “I’m not asking for charity. If you won’t take his money, I’ll work for it.” I cast a desperate glance at the store. “I’ll dust or clean.” I add with rushed enthusiasm, “I can do a new window display for you, something that will attract more customers.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
Her back turns even more rigid. “My display is perfectly efficient.”
“That’s not what I meant.” I’m becoming more desperate by the second. I can’t stand this itching for another minute. “Please, I can do anything you need, any help that’s necessary.”
She wrinkles her nose. “If you don’t have a car, how did you get here?”
“I walked.”
She raises her eyebrows. “You walked? All the way from that house?”
Trying to hide my embarrassment at having been banished to a lice-ridden house, I shrug. “It’s not that far.”
A moment ticks by in which I wish the earth would open up and swallow me. I never thought I’d be reduced to begging for a treatment from a stranger. My shoulders droop. What was I thinking? She doesn’t know me. No one here owes me anything.
“You know what?” I utter an uncomfortable laugh. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have asked. Thank you anyway.” I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, not looking her in the eyes. “Thanks for making an effort with the English.”
“Wait,” she says as I turn toward the street.
Sighing, she thrusts the products at me. “You don’t need to work for it.”
Now I’m even more uncomfortable. “No, please. I don’t expect you to give me these for free.”
“Just take them,” she says, shaking the items in my face.
I die a hundred deaths as I take the boxes. “Thank you.”
Without another word, she goes back inside.
Keeping my head low, I slink out of the village. I don’t miss the curtains being pulled aside in front of windows as I make my way through the streets toward the river.
By the time I reach the house, the sun is dipping below the mountain. I take a moment to rub my aching feet. The cuts on my soles pulled open from the walking.
After switching on the vanity light in the bathroom, I set the products out on the counter and get to work. The front and sides of my head are manageable, but combing the oil through the back is near impossible.
I do the best I can and wash my hair with the special shampoo. As there is no hairdryer, I leave the thick, heavy strands loose to dry. If I didn’t manage to catch all the lice and nits, I may have to cut my hair.
With the laborious task of delousing my hair done, I spray the mattress and the room and close the door. For good measure, I spray the bathroom, kitchen, and lounge until the canister is empty.