by Raven Scott
“Shit, Mom… not this again. The entire two years he’s been sleeping on my sofa, he hasn’t done shit to try to get a better job— to not fuck up his friendships— to— to make a life for himself beyond my couch. I’m not going to be responsible for him, okay? Aunt Jess— you’re his mom. You think everyone should coddle him, so be the first in line to do so and give him his old room back.” My Aunt Jess looked mightily uncomfortable as I addressed her. She was always the meeker of the two of them. I guess I could understand where Caleb got it, considering my mom always stood up for her sister when shit went even lightly wrong. “How can he be an adult when he sends his mom to argue for him?”
“What’s this?” Joci had somehow made it to the open kitchen without being noticed, holding up a jar a peanut butter with curiosity slathered all over her face.
“Peanut butter. Want a sandwich?” Her brows twitched, and she twisted the top to sniff and pulled a disgusted face. “Guess not, huh? They don’t have peanut butter in Russia?”
“Who is she, Jacob? When did you get a girlfriend?” Taking my eyes off Joci as she tugged her shirt sleeves down when she reached to put the jar back, I pursed my lips thinly. My mom wasn’t squat by any means, but she looked like an angry garden gnome in this moment.
“Don’t get distracted, Mom. This is about Caleb, remember? And how I’m not allowing him to stay here anymore.” She shot me the snootiest look, my mom, and I rolled my eyes as I gestured to Joci. Mom comes here to berate me for Caleb, and now she’ll end up berating me for Joci. “She’s a Russian mail-order bride I found on the internet. Paid $15grand for her.”
“What!” The shrill shriek my mom squawked out echoed through my apartment, and my brows rose pointedly. Amusement mingled with my rising irritation; I’d been through so much in such a short amount of time, and I just wanted everything to calm down. “You paid for a person? Jacob! That’s illegal!”
“That’s not the issue, Mom. Remember? You’re here to tell me to let Caleb stay despite the fact that he’s impacting my life negatively.” Sauntering into the kitchen as I spoke, I grabbed the peanut butter from Joci to stick it back in the fridge. I grabbed the cheese and ham from the drawer, and she frowned into the cold billowing out. “Are you uncomfortable with them here?”
My mumble earned me a slight shake of her head, and I kissed her cheek before turning to the counter. Leaning on my palms on the counter, I inhaled deeply as I tried to mentally wrangle in the situation.
“Just listen, Jacob. Caleb’s a pain in the butt, yeah, but he’s never done anything bad enough to warrant being kicked out. Just because you’re in a relationship doesn’t mean you can drop your friends. And he’s your cousin! You were raised to help your family out, and Caleb may not have a great job, but he has a job, and he pays on time, and he doesn’t do anything illegal.” The more she talked, the faster it came out, and my mom crossed her arms over her chest out of the corner of my eye. Popping open a drawer to snatch a butter knife, I handed it to Joci before realizing that we’d just eaten two hours or so ago.
Expectant silence filled the kitchen, and I took my time analyzing what my mom had said while Joci constructed a sandwich. Turning to the two to lean on my elbow on the marble counter, my eyes narrowed into slits.
“Now, you listen, Mom. You’re not going to change my mind. I’ve tried for two years to reach some sort of agreement, but Caleb always shrugged me off. He’d fix his attitude for a few days before going back to his bad habits. I never asked him to do something that was out of his capabilities. Do his dishes, even if it’s only a butter knife. Leave me alone when I say ‘I want to be left alone’. Be on time when he’s the one that suggesting doing something or going somewhere. These are not unreasonable expectations of a 26-year-old, Mom.” I made sure to speak firmly, and I could see it in my mom’s eyes that she was pissed. Caleb wasn’t even her kid— I was, damnit! “Do you really want to get bad over this, Mom? Are you seriously going to choose Caleb’s convenience over me? This is my apartment, and my life, and I’m not here just to give Caleb a cheap place to crash.”
“I’m not ‘choosing’ either of you—” A bark of laughter escaped me at that, devoid of humor as my attitude to sharp turn down ‘fuck-all’ lane. My aunt, at least, had the decency to look ashamed of the points I’d made, but it wasn’t much of a consolation prize. Aunt Jess always took the route painless for Caleb, even if it harmed him in the long run. Pushing him through high school was just one example of how she dealt with adversary against him.
“You’re here, Mom, and he’s not. Aunt Jess hasn’t said a single word since you let yourself in. I’ve dealt with a lot today, okay, and I really am not interested in anything either of you have to say. Like I’ve said— I’ve tried, and Caleb doesn’t want to abide by any rules or expectations, no matter how reasonable they are. So, he’s got two weeks. I’m changing my locks, getting rid of his stuff, and if he doesn’t have a place to go by the time two weeks is up, it’s not my problem if he sleeps on a bus stop.” I was harsh, but I’d run out of ways to be polite about this issue. My mom gasped loudly, and I walked over to her to gesture to the door. “If you don’t mind, I’m asking you to leave, now. This conversation is over.”
“I can’t believe you, Jacob!” Turning on her heel, my mom stormed out with my aunt following behind, and I shut and locked the deadbolt— one I rarely used and my mom didn’t have a key for. Leaning against the door, I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration.
“I’m sorry. I’m not hungry, but I made the sandwich.” Joci smiled guiltily when I opened my eyes, and I shook my head a little at the absurdity of it all. “Why doesn’t she believe you?”
“Ah— she’s just upset I’m making drama. She’ll get over it. Caleb’s an adult, even if he is a bit of a loser. He just doesn’t try at anything because someone else always does that for him. My mom likes her ducks neat in a row.” The confusion on her face was enough to blast away my bad mood, and I waved a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing. So, do you want to stay the night, or…?”
“I want to, but… I do not want my boss after me.” Reluctance lowered her tone, but I wasn’t going to push as Joci took a nibble out of the edge of her sandwich. My chest tightened with the desire to finish what we’d started. All we did was make out— heavily— and I was more than happy to continue. It’d be an adventure for another day regardless of all the interruptions, though, I thought. Clearly, there was shit Joci wasn’t going to just jump headlong into, and sex appeared to be one of those things.
14
Jacob
Emerging from the subway tunnel, I squinted at the bright sunlight as the cold air stung my eyes. The weekend had gone by so damn fast, and snow was in the forecast Sunday into Monday. Evenings like this, I wished I had some way to get around that didn’t involve two trains and some sprinting.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I frowned at the time displayed on the screen. I had an hour, if I was lucky, to get to work before all the idiots that’d procrastinated because of the snow. Yeah, that includes me. Because I’m an idiot that procrastinated too long.
“I didn’t make the train in time, either. I had to take the bus to make up time.” This morning was just crap— crap, crap, crap. Hurrying down the sidewalk, I stuffed my hands and phone back in my pockets and ducked my head. I flew high after spending that time with Joci, despite my mom and aunt showing up. I was so damned confident that we’d run into each other again. Her boss hadn’t scared me away, and my mom hadn’t scared her away. “I spent way too long daydreaming today.”
All weekend, I was a mess, and I adjusted my messenger bag strap against my shoulder with a slight scowl. Maybe, I was getting ahead of myself, here. There were still plenty of reasons my budding relationship with Joci could go south real quick. But, for some reason, I just couldn’t think of any specifics. I felt like I was back in high school crushing on the transfer student, and man! What a rush!
It’s also entirely p
ossible that the uncertainty of when I’d see Joci was exciting, too. Clearly, she wasn’t going to call me until she got an American phone, but the anticipation of it was jolting. Every time I blinked, I hoped I’d catch a glimpse of her. Everywhere I went, I craned my neck to scan the crowd for those familiar, mahogany waves.
I was not creeping, though.
My phone buzzed from a call against my palm, and I paused my rushing to fish the device out of my pocket again. Pursing my lips thinly, I frowned as Caleb’s name flashed on the screen before swiping the green button across the screen.
“What, Caleb? I’m gonna be late for work, so make it fast.” I hadn’t seen hide or hair of my cousin since he ran away— he came home after I fell asleep and left before I woke up. Admittedly, he was quieter, but taking steps now, after things went to shit, was actively making things worse for him. Starting down the sidewalk, I had about two blocks to go before I got to my building, and I glanced up at the heavy, dark clouds overhead.
“Jacob, hey. I’m just calling to let you know that I’m pulling a double today. I’m leaving right now to talk to the managers about training for be a waiter, but my 12-hour doesn’t start until 11am.” So, he finally figured it out. To say I was relieved was wrong; Caleb worked a busser job that shared tips, and he barely pulled upper-limit part time. Sure, he worked 4 hours three days a week, and 6 hours on the weekends, but it wasn’t a mystery why couldn’t afford independence.
“Okay. You don’t have to explain your schedule to me, Caleb. You’re not going to be living with me anymore in two weeks, so when you work isn’t going to impact me.” I could practically feel Caleb’s disappointment crawling down my neck, and I reached to scratch my stubble. “I’ve already explained my reasons, and I’m not having this conversation again. Goodbye.”
Hanging up on Caleb, I shook my head slightly before picking up my pace. There was no convincing me that he’d change at this point. He was just panicking, trying to save something that I wasn’t willing to put any effort into any longer. I did feel bad, but not for kicking him out— only that it’d gotten to this point.
Thanksgiving dinner was gonna be fun, though.
“I’m glad I’m not working that day.” My murmur twisted my lips as I passed through the white puff they created. Last year, I’d taken the holiday graveyard shift just because it paid double time and looked good on my employee file. Thanksgiving night was surprisingly busy with people calling wondering why they can’t hook their TV to their computer with AV cables from their 20-year-old Nintendo 64. I spoke to a lot of exasperated 13-year olds, too, trying to explain to Grandpa what an HDMI cable was.
This year, I was going to work the day after, which was inarguably worse. All those people that got drunk as Hell calling in trying to find out why their computers weren’t working because they were unplugged. Offices requesting technicians because someone ripped an ethernet cord out of its socket. Saying the same thing for every switchboard that malfunctioned because someone did something naughty in the server room. So… so fun.
Just thinking of the mess was giving me shivers of foreboding. Rounding a corner, I turned my mind to my last family dinner, but the sensations racing down my spine weren’t much different. Each scenario had its own ups and downs. I loved my family, and my family loved me. I saw everyone just long enough not to want to see them again until the next holiday season.
My brothers and sister were all professionals, working, responsible adults, and we rarely got together for any length of time. Which is fine, because I can only take so much of being told my net worth is less than everyone else’s. Emily was a lawyer— Roerich owned a successful plumbing business— Tyler married a rich girl and does a lot of volunteer work. And Carl… Carl didn’t even count because he was too busy getting high with his girlfriend to care about something as inconsequential as money.
“Jacob!” Torn from my thoughts, I turned as Mark came jogging up to me, and a polite smile automatically stretched my lips. “Did you hear what happened at work yesterday?”
“No, I didn’t take yesterday. What happened?” Mark struggled a little with his scarf as I posed my question. We started walking, his smoker’s wheeze ringing a little in my ears. “Did someone get fired?”
“Surprisingly— yeah. Kelly got fired.” My brows rose high at that, and Mark nodded eagerly as our building came into sight down the street. “She filed a complaint with HR last week about me, remember? Well, they found in their investigation that she was the one who sabotaged her own chair and tried to pin it on me. They canned her for creating a false report. They asked us both to come in yesterday, and she had a complete mental breakdown. It was glorious.”
“What? What’d she say?” I, like most office drones, was very guilty of gossiping— about customers, about coworkers, about my boss because she was a straight bitch… Unfortunately, Melissa wasn’t the one that got fired, but Kelly was problematic herself.
“She started getting aggressive about how the workplace was hostile towards her for being a woman, and she was going to file a discrimination suit against us for wrongful termination. I’m pretty sure no one told Kelly that they’ve got her on camera destabilizing her own workstation. The HR guy only said that she filed a false report, which is enough for termination in itself.” Nodding in acknowledgment, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time. “Kelly demanded I be fired, too, since I pull pranks on people during work hours. I had to make some bullshit excuse about maintaining office morale, and that our work would suffer if we had a dreary atmosphere.”
“They bought that?” I was impressed that Mark managed to pull that off; he wasn’t exactly wrong, either. He never went too far, and his pranks were harmless. Sticky notes on monitors— salt instead of sugar in the break room— everyone always got a laugh from it. “What did the HR guy say?”
“That they’ve never gotten a complaint about my pranks, and when asked about it, that my coworkers all agreed it was nice to be the butt of a harmless joke every once and a while. What did you tell them, Jaocb?”
“No one ever asked me about you, honestly. Even if they did, it’s not like I’m gonna hold that time you put a whoopee cushion on my chair against you. Besides, you do your job, and that’s the important thing. If you didn’t, you’d just be an immature pain in the ass.” Stroking my cleanly trimmed beard as I spoke, I glanced over at Mark as he practically beamed, showing off his deep dimples. He wasn’t much younger than me, but he had a charm about him that let him get away with a lot. As far as his job went, he was average— if he didn’t rope people in the way he did, he’d have gotten let go a long time ago.
“So, what’d you do last weekend, Jacob? You seem… I don’t know— more chipper.” Rubbing the back of my neck at that, this entire weekend, starting Thursday night, flashed behind my lids when I blinked. It seemed like so much happened, when, really, not much had at all. I met a girl, kicked out my roommate, and then… nothing.
“I’ll tell you about it at lunch. It’s a bit of a story.”
15
Joci
Tapping my feet against the carpet, I stared at the ceiling as boredom threatened to shutter my lids. Ophelia’s meeting with Carlyle and Aleksander was not something I wanted to be a fly on the wall for. After that shit that American pulled on Friday, I was no fan of his. They’d been in a room in this hotel for hours, and I wanted to die from the stagnation.
Die.
“When Aleksander gets his foot in America, he’s sending Kiri to head the operations.” Blinking hard, it took me a moment to realize the voice wasn’t my own thoughts, and I lifted my head. Sascha frowned, glancing up from his phone as my brain flung back to that day so long ago. “That was something we never had an answer to. Why did she approach me in Moscow? It was because she already knew she was going to be working with Ophelia— who is pretty confident about this deal, by the way. What do you think?”
“You think not asking direct questions but expecting proper answers runs in t
he family? Because it does. Kiri Makovich is a prissy brat, no matter how meek and quiet she seems. I’d argue she’s worse than Lyov.” The reply was obviously one he was expecting, and Sascha nodded lightly. “You don’t think so, though? Her complaining to you wasn’t so out of character.”
“I think that’s exactly what she wants people to think, Joci. That she’s a whiny, immature girl with no head on her shoulders. I’d bet money that the reason she came to see me that time wasn’t to flirt with me, as you thought. I think she was planting the seed, knowing we were going to see more of each other. First impressions are important, after all. Aleksander was in on his father’s attempted assassination and orchestrated everything that followed. He has every expectation of sending Kiri to America, and I believe Oppie and I are going to see far more of this country than either of us would like.” My eyes narrowed on Sascha as he scowled, tugging on his beard thoughtfully. “I think Kiri is far more cunning than anyone gives her credit for. What do you think of it all, Joci?”
“In 22 days, it won’t be my problem. Aleksander offered me an out, and I took it.” Sascha sat up in surprise, his eyes firmly on me, and I inhaled a deep, slow breath. “I have no purpose, and if I stay in Russia, Anatoly will get me eventually. It’s a lot harder to get here without Aleksander knowing. Since he couldn’t find a use for me, he decided it was easier to dump me here and forget about me.”
“That’s wonderful, Joci. Ophelia mentioned something about you going off on your own all the time, and that you had an American ID and stuff, but you’re really staying because you want to.” My lips twisted ugly as I nodded an awkward jerk of my chin, and Sascha smiled warmly at me. If there was one thing Sascha was good at, it was being understanding and supportive. He was exactly the kind of man that every woman dreamed of. “Are you going to work on your English with a tutor, or…?”