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twenty f

My New Life

T he studio apartment above Helen’s garage was sparsely furnished, but I was grateful for a free roof over my head. I was anxious to begin working in real estate and to solidify my relationship with Jack’s mother.

Jack had other ideas. “We need to find a place of our own where I can get back into business. Otherwise, I’m gonna lose my customers.”

“Maybe we should think about getting sober and saving some money,” I said.

“That’s not the gal I married talking,” Jack said.

“I can’t dance forever. Maybe real estate is a chance to get my kids back.”

He squirmed. “Let’s talk later. I’m ready to go for a ride and light up a doobie.”

So much for the straight life.

The next day Helen invited me to spend some time in her office.

“Think about real estate long term. In the beginning, you can go weeks or months without an income. When you do get paid, it’s good money. Plan for the lean times, but before you know it, you’ll have a nice client base and steady income. I tell my sales agents to get a part-time job while they get established,” Helen explained.

“I could go back to dancing a few nights a week.”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Ava, but you need to be available during the day and early evening. Weekends are our busiest. I imagine that’s when you make most of your money dancing. I could start you in the office for three dollars an hour. I’ll also take you with me on sales calls.”

Three dollars an hour?

But this could be my chance to get ahead. “Okay, why not?”

At least when I worked in Dr. Wendell’s medical office, I’d kept busy. At Helen’s office, I sat for hours doing nothing. She’d given me a textbook to study for the state real estate exam, but the more I stared at the letters on the page, the more my eyes blurred.

I’d come home exhausted and depressed, only to find Jack zoned out. What saved my sanity was the joint we’d smoke before dinner.

“I can’t take much more of this,” he said after three weeks. “We can’t live on three bucks an hour, and I need to get back in the game.”

“Guess I’ll go back to dancing. I can still be available for her on the weekends.”

I reached out to Biff Cardoba, my former agent.

“Ain’t a whole lotta clubs where you are. But if ya don’t mind drivin’, I can get ya work in Trenton and Pennsy,” Biff said.

Helen would have to understand. She knew we needed the money, and her son couldn’t hold a job.

I made fifty dollars in tips my first night dancing at the Pillow Talk Club in Trenton. Biff introduced me to the high rollers and drug dealers, the bouncers and club owners. By the second week I had more work than I could handle. Every dressing table held a mirror littered with lines of coke. Joints and pipes passed from mouth to mouth. The cops had to be on the take. Nobody worried about getting busted.

For once I outperformed just about every other dancer. The girls were down-and-out druggies who did little more than shake their behinds. I was a real dancer with real routines and dance steps.

“Who needs real estate? You’re a shinin’ star.” Jack couldn’t have been happier.

“I don’t belong in real estate,” I agreed. “What should I tell your mother?”

“Tell her it’s a sucker’s game,” he said.

Helen’s face fell when I told her I was leaving. She pursed her lips and stared out her office window. She wished us luck and said her father had a house for rent in Yardley, Pennsylvania. He was asking only one hundred dollars a month.

Looking back, I should have stuck it out in real estate. I should have insisted Jack get a real job. But when you’re high every day, long-term thinking isn’t an option.

Helen was cordial during the rest of our time in her apartment. She wished us well as we headed away from Flemington toward a new life.