I laughed and reached under a pillow for another jar. I said, “You make it sound so easy. I’m starting to wonder if I even need someone on the inside.”
She shot me a conceded smile. “Don’t kid yourself. The only way this plan of yours can go smoothly is if someone helps it along. It’s not just the other women you have to worry about. They have lots of children, and some of your brothers and sisters are downright savage.”
My own smile disappeared. I poured a huge dose of vodka down my throat and wiped the spill-off onto the back of my hand. I said, “With all due respect, please don’t call them my brothers and sisters. Having the same father doesn’t make us family. It doesn’t make us anything as far as I’m concerned. As far as I’m concerned, I’m an only child. Always have been, and always will be.”
Jennifer looked at me. She nodded slowly and said, “If that’s how you feel about it.”
“Yes. That’s how I feel. Thank you.” I stood up from the bed and walked to the closet, to the half-emptied suitcase in which my personal effects were stowed. I uncovered the phone, still in its original packaging, and brought it over for her to examine. “That’s a satellite phone from Korea. Brand new. Bought it from a retailer in San Mateo on the drive down. I have one too. Once you’re certain that the others will sign the contract, shoot me a text message saying so. Then I’ll contact Mr. Russert and have him fax over the forms. If I don’t hear from you before Friday, don’t bother looking for me come Sunday. By then I’ll have already notified the Ag Bureau in Tulare about the fraud you’ve got going on over in Orosi. Three days. That’s how long you’ve got. That’s my condition, you can take it or leave it the same as I can for yours.”
She looked at Dale, and together they shared a moment of wordless consideration. I was worried they would return once more to the bathroom, but instead Jennifer rose from the chair and reached out to shake my hand.
She said, “You take after him. I don’t know if you know that, but I thought you should.”
I didn’t appreciate her saying so, and was positive that deep down it wasn’t true. But still I thanked her, shook her hand, and saw both of them to the door.
Losing my virginity wasn’t what I expected. It wasn’t anything like what the guys at school made it out to be. I felt nauseous the entire time it was going on, in part because of all I’d had to drink, but also because Livia’s thighs kept squeezing my balls as she ground her pelvis into me. When it was over I felt greasy from my navel down to my hips. I think she applied some form of artificial lubricant when I wasn’t looking. Probably did the same with all her clients. Now she wrapped herself in a sheer lace robe and began brushing her hair at the vanity.
She said, “Thank you for the nice time, baby. Hope to see you again real soon.”
Her polite nudging didn’t fool me; the service had been rendered, and now she was kicking me out the door. I found my underwear at the foot of the bed. I stood to hitch them up, but my head started spinning and I fell back on the mattress. In places the sheets were transparent from sweat and other fluids. I turned to the vanity mirror and got my first good look at Livia. Uncomfortable as the sex had been, it elicited a remarkable change in that I was able to see her for more than a second without succumbing to shyness. Now that I had had her, there was nothing about her that inspired any trepidation in me, at least until her eyes appeared clearly in the mirror and I found myself leaning in for a closer look. She noticed and stopped brushing.
“Something wrong, baby?”
“Turn around.”
“You feeling all right?”
“Turn around. Look at me.”
She set the brush down and did as she was told. I touched her cheek and brought my face within a few short inches of hers; I didn’t want to frighten her, but I couldn’t help myself. Her eyes were the deepest shade of blue I had ever seen, and I would have recognized them anywhere.
“Where do you come from?”
She pulled away gently. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Where were you born? Who are your parents? Tell me. Please.”
“Time’s almost up, baby. You should get dressed.”
My pants were lying on the floor with one leg folded in half like something an amputee would wear. I scooped them up, took out my wallet, and removed all the money I had. I said, “This is almost a hundred dollars Californian. And it’s all yours if you just answer me truthfully. That’s all I ask.”
Livia looked at the money. She was afraid, and her fear was obvious, but still, the look of desperation with which she eyed the money was so much more natural than the faces she made while faking orgasm. What did a hundred dollars mean in her world? What would she normally have to do to earn that kind of tip? She glanced up at me and said, “Your father’s waiting for you. He’ll start to wonder what’s up if you don’t head down soon.”
“Two minutes. That’s all I’m asking for. Then I’ll get dressed and leave. And you’ll be a hundred dollars richer.”
Livia hesitated, but then snatched the money out of my hand. She folded the bills into a small, tight roll and held the roll to her chest with both hands like a woodland animal trying to guard its foraged nourishment. “Okay. What do you want to know?”
I sat back down on the edge of the bed. In my head I worked backward through the chain of evidence needed to confirm what I already suspected. “How old are you? Really.”
She looked down at her bare feet and looked up again. “Fourteen.”
“Where were you born?”
“Here.”
“In this house?”
“No. I mean here as in the valley.”
“In a place like this?”
“More or less.”
“So your mother was a whore as well?”
Her eyes flashed briefly with a spark of outrage. She lowered her head and clutched the money more closely to her body. She said, “Mama used to work in a party house up near Parlier. We moved down here when I was little.”
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“She ran off a couple years ago. Didn’t say where to. She was in pretty bad shape. Lots of drinking, and meth. Think she knew it was only a matter of time before the boss kicked her out.”
I closed my eyes. It was too appalling to be true. Fat and brainless, second-generation whore daughter of a wayward addict. By all rights, the government should have had them both sterilized.
“Who was your father? That’s my last question. Answer it and I’ll leave. But be honest.”
“I’ve been honest so far.”
“Then tell me. Who was he?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“Your mother never told you.”
“I don’t think she knew herself.”
“How could she not know?”
“It’s easy to lose track. Week in, week out, men come from all over the country.”
“From the coast?”
“Of course. They’re the biggest spenders.”
“Right. That makes sense.” A speck of doubt glittered in the back of my mind. Of all the hundreds and maybe thousands of men her mother had been with, the odds of my suspicion bring true were about as good as my chances of winning the national lottery, or Livia’s chances of finding a man to take her away from all this. It comforted me greatly, the improbability of it all. But then I looked into her eyes again and saw the truth plain as day, the similarities that stood in mocking contrast to all the rules of logic and likelihood. Dad was wrong. Instead of finding a peaceful, loving God in that place, I was staring straight into the eyes of the girl whose very existence seemed to confirm that no such peace would ever be available to me again. I steadied my breathing and said, “Thank you for your time, Livia. After I leave, you won’t see me again. So good luck with all of this. I hope it turns out as well as it possibly can.”