BOUNDLESS (Mama's Story) by Lexie Ray Read Free Book Online

out at me—vomit-smeared, hungover me. “Wanda Dupree.”
    “Howdy,” Marlee said, looking up from her book. “Looks like you could use a shower.”
    And that’s how I had my first experience with prison hygiene facilities. There were curtains separating each shower stall, which was more than I expected. And the hot water made me feel better, banishing the chunks of vomit and lingering hangover.
    “That’s better,” Marlee greeted me when I got back to the room, squeaky clean and in a fresh jumpsuit.
    “I agree,” I said, hanging my towel from the edge of my new bed. My memory pricked at me, as though I needed to say something. I looked at Marlee, sure that she held the answer to whatever was bothering me. She was pretty—a strawberry blonde, freckles spread across her cheeks. Her eyes were a clear, deep brown.
    “Something on your mind?” Marlee asked.
    “Yes, I just can’t quite remember, sugar,” I said. “Oh—are you the Marlee from the cafeteria? The one who’s in charge of the kitchen?”
    “The one and same,” she said easily.
    “That’s wonderful,” I said. “I had dinner last night—my first meal here—and I just wanted to say how delicious is was. You really know your way around the kitchen.”
    “Well, thank you,” Marlee said, beaming. “I do love hearing from happy customers.”
    “How long have you been in charge of the kitchen?” I asked her.
    “Nearly since I’ve been here,” she said, “so that’ll put it at about five years now.”
    “Five years,” I said wonderingly. “That’s a long time?”
    “I bet you’re wondering what I did to deserve to be here five years,” Marlee said, smiling.
    “No,” I said quickly. “It’s just impressive that you’ve been in charge of the kitchen that whole time. You must be doing something right, sugar.”
    She waved my explanation away. “It’s all right. I don’t mind. I’m doing hard time for fraud. I’d steal my boyfriends’ credit cards, run up the limits, and disappear. And I had lots of boyfriends.”
    I laughed. She looked like she did—Marlee was very pretty. “What made you do it?”
    She shrugged. “What made me do anything back then? Alcohol. I hated men, too. I was raped at an impressionable age. I was afraid of men for a long time, but then I figured I just needed to adjust my attitude. Recognize that I could take advantage of them just as easily as I’d been taken advantage of. Alcohol helped mask my fear, helped give me the courage to rob those poor men blind.”
    “Jesus, sugar,” I said, wide eyed. “I’m sorry to hear all that.”
    “Don’t be,” Marlee said. “I’m not. Sure, I could’ve done without the shittier things that happened along the road. But prison has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. Really.”
    I sat down on my bed and took a closer look at my new cell. Just like Willow, Marlee had amassed possessions. She had books, photographs, stationary sets, and snacks.
    “You have a lot of stuff, sugar,” I said wistfully. “You have somebody on the outside?”
    “A few admirers,” she laughed. “I mean, Christ, I took them for all they had, but there are three who still think they love me. It’s fucking bizarre. And the kitchen work helps. You don’t earn a lot, but over time, you earn enough to get what you need from the commissary.”
    “I’m looking forward to working,” I said. “I don’t have anyone on the outside.”
    “Do you have everything you need?” Marlee asked. “I can help you get things from the commissary if there’s something you don’t have.”
    Unless you could get alcohol from the commissary, I could do without until I started earning wages.
    “That’s all right,” I said. “I can manage until I start work. You don’t have to do anything.”
    “Smart lady,” Marlee said, smiling. “Don’t be beholden to anyone. Every favor carries a price.”
    I was taken aback. “And what was your price going to be?”
    “I was going