The Girlfriend Contract by Lucy Lambert Read Free Book Online

meant: have you asked her for help? Did you really go to her first before me, your one and only father?
    "No, I haven't," she answered.
    It was a toss-up whether this would be a good or bad thing. He might feel gratified that she came to him first. But then again, he might have felt more gratified being able to rub this in her mom's face, about being able to help their daughter out when she needed it.
    "Well I'm glad. It's good to know at least one of the women in my life thinks I'm good enough for them."
    Gwen remained non-committal on that point. She loved both her parents, and it really tore her up inside to be the go-between for their little jabs at each other. Sometimes, whenever they ramped up the divorce proceedings, she felt like the rope in a game of tug-of-war between them and their lawyers.
    "So you need some money then, or what?" her dad said.
    She finally let out the breath she'd been holding. Her shoulders relaxed, and she leaned back into the comforting give of the couch cushion.
    "Yes, if you don't mind..." Gwen said.
    "Mind? You're my daughter! How could I possibly mind? No, it makes me feel good to help you out. I wish you'd let me do it more often. So how much do you need?"
    "$5000 should cover it."
    Something caught in her dad's throat. He stopped breathing. That wasn't the type of reaction she'd been hoping for. A chill went down Gwen's back.
    "Five... thousand?" he said, "Gwen, are you in some kind of trouble? Do you owe money to bad people?"
    "No, it's not that at all, it's..." and Gwen related the story of Janice again. She noticed how during each subsequent iteration, she painted her former roommate in even poorer light.
    "I'm sorry, baby, really. But I can't. I just don't have that kind of money anymore. Your mother's sucked me dry. She always did know how to hit a man square in the wallet."
    "Please, dad? They're going to evict me next week if I can't come up with it!" Gwen sat up straight, those knots in her muscles tightening again, her eyes searching around the living room as though they might light upon something that could convince him to change his mind.
    "I'm sorry. I really can't. Hey, if you like, I'll come up there this weekend and help you pack. You can stay with me. I'd love to offer you your old bedroom, but your mother and I just closed escrow on the house. Can you believe she made me sell it?"
    "I really can't move back, dad; I'd have to leave school. Thanks for listening. I'm going to give mom a call," Gwen said.
    It was a low, calculated blow. She hated playing them off each other like this, but she was getting desperate.
    "I'm sorry I can't help. And I can tell you right now your mom's going to give you the same answer. Hey, my lunch break's ending. Just give me a shout when you're ready to get packing. Just don't beat yourself up too much about all this. You just got a raw deal, but you're young, you'll bounce back in no time. Love ya, baby!"
    "Love you too," Gwen said, lowering the phone to her lap. It was hot in her hands.
    Despite the ball of lead weighing down her stomach, Gwen called her mom. The conversation went along the same lines as the one with her father. Her mom started being all optimistic, all happy to help, but had almost the exact same reaction her dad did when Gwen gave her the number.
    She wanted to help, but couldn't come up with that kind of money. Again, Gwen received the offer of a place to sleep and a helping hand in the move. She hated how both of them thought it was just some foregone conclusion that she couldn't solve this problem and would be leaving her apartment shortly.
    "Love you, mom. Gotta go, bye," she said when her mom started ripping into her father about selling the house. She dropped her phone on the couch and leaned her head back, staring up at the white stucco ceiling.
    She'd really been counting on one of them actually coming through for her. Had convinced herself of it, really. The thought of both of them refusing didn't cross her mind