The Destitute Heiress

Reina

All the bravado I have flies into the street when I reach the bus stop and it starts to snow heavily. It’s already two pm and I need to get on the T as soon as I can to get me to a homeless shelter for women I had seen weeks ago. Ironically, I had taken a flyer of theirs to donate a few more dollars than the original five I put in a box at the farmers market.

As if some force of nature heard my prayers, A T bus pulled up and I pulled my luggage and self into it, inserting my card and hoping that Kevin had not thought to cancel the cards. It swiped green and I looked gratefully to the heavens while I found a seat.

An hour later, the snow was heavier but I’d reached my destination. Rosie’s Place. The Red brick walls held what I knew was a welcoming place, though a line was wrapped around the block as they welcomed more people, I stood in my place as the line moved slowly toward the door.

I had no time to worry about Kevin, I needed somewhere to lay my head for the night, put my things in a locker while I went to find sustenance and a job during the day. Soon, I reached an older black woman with her salt and pepper hair in tight coils framing her face.

“Darling, you have an ID?” I pulled out my old driver licence and handed it over to her. She put down some things and asked if I had a phone number, I recited it and she jotted it down with a smile. She handed me a small bag and a colour coded card that said one fifty seven.

Once in the warmth of the shelter, I eased a sigh. Rosie’s place is quite popular among the unhoused population making it a hard place to find space but I found a spot and that’s one big victory, especially in the face of all that I have faced today. My bag is carefully searched and handed back to me while someone takes me to a large room where I hear the buzz of conversation before I go in.

“What’s your number?” A young girl around my age asks, blowing her gum until it pops around her lips. I stare at her until she pulls it into her mouth and repeats her question.

“157.” She nods excitedly. Her curls bouncing around her face.

“I’m 156, which means we’ll be sharing a cubicle. I’m Reina. Not Queen.” I chuckle, years of reading foreign literature makes me know that it means different things in different languages, ‘Queen’ being the most popular.

“I’m Carina. My husband just asked me to leave his house.” I don’t know what made me blurt that out, but the ease that I felt afterwards, made me relieved. I did not have to hide my head in shame, I did nothing to end my marriage, Kevin did. Kevin should be the one who has to bow his head in shame, not me.

“I’m so sorry. You don’t have parents? Siblings?” I shook my head. I’m an only child, my mother had died just as I prepared to graduate high school and she never mentioned my father.

“I’m here because I can’t make rent. My job doesn’t pay enough for me to pay all my bills and still be able to make rent, I no longer want to sleep in my car so,” She waves her arms around, her wrist bangles clacking.

I nod in understanding as we find our beds, step away from our things and move quickly to the bathrooms, I don’t shower but I brush my teeth and wipe my face. I have no idea what to do with myself so I look around the large room full of people as I wait for Reina.

“If you don’t use the bathrooms early, Rosie’s has limited resources sometimes, so they cannot hire more staff.” I nod, not trusting myself to say a word. I just want to get into my bed and cry myself to sleep, but it’s only six pm. I’ve never fallen asleep at six pm before.

I take out my phone and power it on, waiting to see if Kevin had called or texted. The notification bar is empty, so I look back up at Reina.

“You were hoping he would call?” I nod, tears pricking my eyes, I refuse to let them fall so hold my head at an odd angle.

“Don’t be foolish. If he allowed you to leave the house in such weather, a warm house for the cold unknown, he never liked you and never will. Brave yourself for the understanding of that in the near future.” I nod, unable to hold my tears any longer.

“Do you have any kids?” She asks, it’s more questions than I’d have loved to answer but it’s the most anyone has cared about me in over five years, I want to respond. She passes me a thick wad of tissues.

“I don’t. We were waiting for him to get a new promotion so we could move out of his parent’s.” Her eyes darken as I speak, her eyes asking the questions.

“Yall Lived with his parents?” I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

“That was foolish of you. Now you can’t demand anything in the divorce.” My eyes fly to hers as I realise she’s right, I might just get a miserly amount as alimony, but nothing from a house I tended for years.