Hooked 3 (Hooked #3)(5)

I turned to march back to my apartment, to make spreadsheet after spreadsheet that would iterate what I would need to do to get this beautiful new studio above the bar. I imagined us dancing throughout the day before Mel and I turned our attention to the beers and good conversation. I imagined myself learning all of the regulars’ names, speaking to them daily, developing a community—one I had been searching for throughout Chicago since my arrival!

Something tugged in the pit of my stomach, as I thought about this new future. My old landlord—the one I hadn’t paid back for all those months. If I could get a loan for the new studio—if I could make everything work—then perhaps I could pay him back. I needed to pay him back. I turned my head to the right as I walked, noting that I was only a few blocks away from his new offices. Inhaling slightly, I turned toward the office to face my demons.

A light bell jangled on the door as I opened it, peering into the small leasing office. His secretary stood up as I approached, eyeing me with a bit of distrust. I supposed that was warranted; after all, I hadn’t paid for rent since April. “Hi, Marcia,” I murmured. “Is he here?”

“He’s in back,” she nodded. “Go on. He won’t mind.”

I pushed to the back toward his desk. I found him sitting there, looking up at me expectantly. His eyes were filled with guilt. “Hi, Molly. Please. Sit down.”

I took the seat across from him at the desk. I crossed my legs once before uncrossing them, shuddering in the sheer awkwardness of my body. “Hi. I wanted to talk to you—“

“It’s done, Molly. I already sold him the place. I’m so very sorry.”

But I waved my hand in the air. I knew everything was done, that I couldn’t change the past. But I could make amends. “No. I wanted to talk to you about all the payments I owe you. I know I owe you thousands of dollars. I want you to know—that I’m going to pay you back.”

The landlord’s eyebrow twitched as he peered at me. His black eyes were like daggers. “You want to pay me back?” he asked, as if he were shocked into disbelief.


I nodded. I swallowed slowly, my mind racing. I was sure that I could find the money. If not now, I could orchestrate a series of payments. A hundred dollars here, a hundred dollars there. Perhaps it would take one hundred years, but I would pay him back. “I need to pay you back. I always meant to. I wanted to let you know that our working relationship can’t be over until I’ve paid my debt to you.” I felt the strength of my words; I felt a sense of adulthood come over me like a wave. Perhaps this was all adulthood would really be; standing up to your fears, to your mess-ups. Standing, unflinching, and accepting them whole-heartedly as your own.

But the landlord put his long fingers into the air and arched his left eyebrow. “I’m so sorry, Molly. I simply can’t allow you to pay me back.” His voice was direct, if a little soft. He was talking down to me, I knew, even as I tried to rise to his level.

“You don’t understand, I don’t think,” I said hesitantly. I wanted to make things right! I wanted to make things even.

“I do, Molly. And I appreciate it, truly. You’ve been a marvelous tenant.” He said it so succinctly, like there was no dispute.

I shook my head. “I don’t think you understand. I—I didn’t pay you. I haven’t been marvelous, even for a moment.”

But he shook his head, allowing his long, white fingers to elongate once more. In my head, they looked like spiders—or long snakes. “No, Molly. I don’t want to deal with payments until the final days of your life. I’m cutting you off. You’re free. Everything that’s happened between us will not follow you, will not haunt you. Go off, and start a new life somewhere else. If that means you start a dance studio or a nudist colony, I don’t care. Just go. Be. Live. Do well. I believe in you. I always have.” He smiled at me and winked at me for a moment, his face happy—content.

My arms went limp on either side of my body. I shook my head in disbelief at such kindness. “How can I—how can I thank you?” I sputtered.

He stood up and reached across the desk. I stood up to greet his hand, to shake it like a true adult. “Just by living the best you can,” he murmured. He tapped at his desk a bit loudly, and his secretary opened the door on the other side, allowing me an easy exit. “Be well.”

I stepped from the leasing office, feeling the fire once more in my belly. Anything was possible, even in the wake of all that had come before. I could continue down this path of wellness, of beauty. I could create the world I wanted to live in. I leaped in the air, high like a ballerina in front of the leasing office, feeling the October wind whip around my long arms, my pretty legs. I giggled with glee. Everything was going to be okay.



CHAPTER FOUR

I was floating on air when I finally arrived back to my apartment. I walked to my mailbox and opened it to find a bill. Just one bill. I flapped it against my thigh, still thinking about the previous day’s efforts. My keys jangled in my hand as I neared my door. I was thinking about all I would have to do that evening, all I would have to calculate. How much could I make if I charged this much and had this many students? How much could I make if I paid this much for rent—and perhaps got a different apartment, one that was even cheaper, even shittier? The numbers revolved fast in my brain.