Chapter 2

Joy slipped into a negligee and went into the kitchen. She turned the coffee on. The sharp pain was gone now, replaced by a dull ache. I thought it was love, she mused to herself, staring at the flame under the coffee.

She was unaware of not being alone until a voice spoke.

"Um, Babs didn't tell me she had someone else living with her."

Joy turned and stifled a scream. She recognized the man she had seen with her mother the night before. All he had on was shorts. Apparently he had stayed the night. His eyes leered at the open cleft of Joy's negligee. She pulled it closed.

"Damn you, Sam." Barbara Lansing was in the doorway. "Get your clothes on and get out. You were supposed to leave last night."

The man turned and grinned. "I fell asleep. How about an introduction. I like them young," he smirked.

Joy looked at him a minute, then ran past him and into her bedroom. Her legs trembled, and she felt sick.

A half hour went by. Then, there was a knock at the door. "Joy, let me in," Barbara Lansing called.

Joy opened the door. "What do you want?"

"I'd like to explain."

"Explain, Mother? Isn't it obvious?"

"I know how it must look to you but, well, Sam is a fine man." Barbara Lansing paused "I didn't expect you home last night. You said you were going to spend the night with a girl friend."

"And that makes it all right for you to play whore with a man. How much did he pay you?" Joy blazed. "Oh I know about all your men. Everyone in Havenhurst knows."

Barbara Lansing flinched at the word. "All right, so maybe it is true. Your father died when you were eight. Men have always found me attractive. There wasn't any insurance. I wanted nice things for you."

Tike a reputation as your daughter," Joy sneered. I don't suppose you ever thought about getting a job."

"As a scrub woman? I quit school at sixteen to marry your father. I can't type or take dictation the way you do. And I had you. Men don't marry ready-made families that often. I gave up the kind of fun you've had in school. I was entitled to a little after your father died."

Joy threw back her head and laughed.

"I don't think it's funny," her mother flared.

"Isn't it?" Joy said. She turned and picked up the roll of bills from her dresser. Then she waved the money in front of her mother. "I've had fun, too. All the nights I told you I was staying with a girl friend, I spent in bed with Clay Trent. His father caught us last night and he paid me five hundred dollars. You want to know why? It's because I'm your daughter, and he figured like mother like daughter."

Barbara Lansing recovered from her surprise quickly. A cunning look spread across her face. "Dr. Trent gave you all this money? You know what that means?"

"Only that I'm like you," Joy sneered. "Only I guess I can command a better price."

"Don't be a fool. You can force Clay Trent to marry you. Dr. Trent wouldn't dare stop you." She paused. "That boy is a good catch."

Joy stared at her mother. She didn't want to believe her ears. Her mother was pushing aside the last semblance of decency. A mental picture of what she had seen the night before came alive in her mind. Suddenly, her mother was a stranger, someone she had never known.

"You think I'd force Clay Trent to marry me? I don't want a man just to have someone to sleep with the way you do. I saw you last night. I looked through the door."

"You ... you watched?"

Joy forced a laugh. "It made me sick. And I'm leaving, Mother. I wouldn't spend another day in this house." It didn't matter that she hadn't even thought about leaving. The words came on the spur of the moment.

"You ... you can't leave. What about your job at Bailey's? What will I do?"

"What you did last night, only you won't have to worry about me barging in any more."

"You can't, Joy. Where would you go?"

"New York. I can get a job there."

"That's crazy. You're talking foolish. With Clay you can have everything." Barbara Lansing paused. "You're just too young to understand."

Joy nodded, pretending to agree. But, her mind was made up. If she stayed, she could see herself become labeled like her mother. Havenhurst was a small town. People would find out. It was bound to happen.

Dr. Trent was right. There would be others like Clay. Perhaps she was lucky it hadn't happened already.

Joy pulled her old suitcase from the closet She packed only the necessary things. Taking the money from the dresser, she put it in her purse. A sharp laugh caught in her throat. In a way, it was ironic. The money was her freedom. It would be enough to tide her over in New York until she found a job.

During a quick shower, Joy felt a tinge of excitement. She wondered what it would be like in New York. She had been there once, when she was fifteen. A group from school had gone on an excursion.

A knock came at the door as Joy finished dressing. It was her mother, telling her through the door that she had some shopping to do and that there were some cold cuts in the refrigerator if she was hungry.

Joy called out an okay. Her mother had already forgotten their talk.

A half hour later, Joy was buying a bus ticket for New York. She had left a short note for her mother on the table. As she boarded the bus, she felt no regrets at leaving Havenhurst.