by Brent, Cora
Selling my Jaguar a year and a half ago and purchasing a compact Hyundai that had seen far too many miles had kept me afloat and in school. My remaining resources took a hit after an attack of appendicitis last winter. And even with living frugally and working full time at Closet Exchange, the rest of those resources had been exhausted.
And so was I. Exhausted. Totally fucking exhausted.
I examined the contents of my wallet again. My credit cards had long been shut off and every penny I could spare was stowed in my meager bank account. I could have had a place already if I’d answered one of the many roommate ads for the area but I’d already been there and done that and yada yada yada, now I was sleeping in my car.
I wasn’t making that mistake again.
Since I couldn’t rely on people not to be assholes then I’d have to forge my own way.
Alone.
Independent.
There was something almost poetic about it. Perhaps one day I would write my memoirs.
My shitty credit was a liability but surely with a generous security deposit I could find someplace willing to rent to me. In the meantime, I was trying to cut corners wherever I could. A trip to urgent care last week to deal with a sinus infection had walloped my cash supply and I was trying to make up for it by sacrificing some of my food budget. The cash I shook out of the dusty partitions of my wallet amounted to a dollar and twelve cents. Enough for a bag of chips. A small one. Or one of those gas station sticks of beef jerky.
Being on this side of town was only making me feel poorer. I hardly ever ventured up this way anymore. Whenever I encountered someone from my old life the usual response was either a satisfied smirk or unwanted pity. Now, thanks to Burk Thanopolous, I could add sexual propositioning to the mix. The remnants of my family still lurked in these parts but there were things I’d rather do besides run into them.
Like pull my fingernails out. Or lick the basin of a public toilet.
All in all, the longer I lingered in my hometown the worse I felt. Better to return to the college scene down in Tempe where I could blend in easier. On the freeway I glanced at the lights in my rearview mirror. Somewhere in the miles at my back was the gated neighborhood I’d grown up in. After the house was seized I heard it was eventually sold to a family from Kansas. I hoped they were happy there.
The half a tank of gas remaining in my car was more than enough to get me back and last until Monday’s payday. My boss was the eccentric Cynda Forrester, who had been a child at Woodstock and slept in a whimsical beaded curtained apartment in the back of the building where her store was located. She would have happily advanced my earnings or lent me money if I had ever decided to ask. Twice this week she’d pulled me into a sandalwood-scented hug and asked if all was well. My aura, she claimed, was distributing laser beams of alarm that she could see from across the room.
I assured her everything was fine, that I was just bummed because I’d broken up with my boyfriend. Cynda would never accuse anyone of being a liar and tsk-tsked appropriately over my non-existent ex. Then she offered me a purple healing crystal, which I’d stowed in my glove compartment and forgotten about until now.
One handing the steering wheel, I dug around in the crowded glove compartment with the other hand, bypassing shampoo bottles, deodorant and ear buds until I located the sharp object I was searching for. I didn’t have many sentimental habits and all I knew about the power of crystals came from Cynda’s disjointed explanations, but I felt some small comfort with the weight of it in my palm.
I didn’t really believe in anything mystical but right now I’d take any kind of help the universe was offering.
Except if it came from Burk Thanopolous.
Seriously. Fuck him.
Chapter Two
Kellan
I couldn’t remember the last time it had been like this, just my dad and me.
He’d suggested meeting for dinner on a night when my mom had her book club meeting and my brothers were otherwise occupied.
“How are the hallowed halls of high school treating you?” I asked, shaking some salt over my cheese fries.
I oversalted everything. Bad habit. If my brother Thomas were here he’d sneak in some well-mannered comment about the benefits of a healthy diet. When Thomas wasn’t destroying every batter he faced on the baseball mound he was studying to be a nutritionist.
My other brother, Derek, would roll his eyes at our perfect kid brother and probably stick his hand in my plate to snatch some fries unless I fended him off with a kick.
And if my mom were at the table she’d settle us down with a few sharp words that we didn’t dare disobey even though all three of us had towered over her since our early teens.
But instead there was just me and my dad. He shook some salt over his own fries before answering my question.
“It’s not all fun and games competing with a variety of electronic devices in my own classroom but it keeps me on my toes.” He winked at me. “Your internship is finished?”
“Wrapped up yesterday. Tomorrow I’m back to rolling out pizza dough when I’m not hitting the books.”
“Got to say I kind of envy you getting free meals at Esposito’s whenever you want.”
“It is a definite perk.”
Last year I lucked into a job at a locally famous pizzeria thanks to my brother’s girlfriend putting in a good word for me. The shifts were flexible and the owners were good people so I was grateful they were willing to give me a leave of absence over the summer to take an internship with a downtown investment firm. Now that school was about to resume it was back to the regular grind.
My dad was giving me that look of satisfied appraisal I was familiar with. “So there’s only a few more semesters left until you take the financial industry by storm.”
“That’s the plan.” I popped three cheese fries into my mouth.
He cracked a grin. “We’re proud of you, Kel. In case I don’t say it enough.”
I swallowed the lump of salted calories. “You say it all the time. My ego always appreciates the reinforcement though.”
I did not comment on the strange irony of evolving into the quietly dependable Gentry son. My teen years kicked off a wild series of misdeeds that left my parents pulling out their hair and looking over their shoulders to see what in the hell I’d do next.
Things changed for my family overnight.
My older brother Derek was in an accident. He was drunk. The man he ran into, also drunk, was killed. My folks had a long streak of standing up to life’s challenges but watching their eldest son get hauled away in handcuffs crushed them. It crushed us all. Derek’s lawyer plea bargained and a lenient judge gave him only five months plus probation. When he got out he struggled to put his life back together and come to terms with the addiction that had been passed down through the generations. He was on a good path now, well over a year sober and living with his amazing girlfriend, Paige. Yet I knew my brother better than anyone and I understood how his past mistakes haunted him.
Thomas was a completely different story. He’d never earned so much as a traffic ticket. But his single minded focus on his big league baseball dreams required a lot of my parents’ attention.
So I made an effort to walk a straight line and be the son they didn’t need to worry about or fuss over. I avoided trouble like I was allergic to it. I switched my major to finance and enrolled in a concurrent MBA program.
But on other counts I was no role model. Girls clung to me everywhere I went and I knew how to give them a good time. I was also never one to pass up spreading my charisma around on the frenzied college social scene.
The conversation shifted to my brothers. Thomas could have chosen to try for the big leagues right out of high school. He was widely rumored to be one of the most promising young pitching talents in the state and would have been snapped up by some team in the draft but my folks had persuaded him to give college a try first. He’d completed his freshman year and maintained both a 4.0 a
nd a perfect winning record. If I didn’t love the guy so much then his glow of perfection would annoy the shit out of me. He’d taken Derek’s place in the two bedroom apartment close to campus after Derek moved in with Paige. Thomas and I had a very different dynamic than the one I shared with Derek. Thomas was almost too polite to give anyone a hard time.
My dad was now grumbling about a trip my mom was trying to talk him into. One of those overpriced river cruise excursions around Europe.
“I could buy a new car for what it’ll cost to float around on the Rhine for a week,” he announced.
The waitress stopped by to refill my water glass, which wasn’t necessary because the contents were only about an inch from being topped off in the first place. She smiled at me. I smiled back. Her nametag identified her as Luci and she was cute in a basic fresh-faced sorority girl kind of way. I might ask for her number before leaving.
“What are you complaining about?” I asked my dad. “You know mom’s will is impenetrable. You’re destined to give in.”
He was indignant. “I pride myself on being able to put up a fight first.”
My parents had been married for eternity. They lovingly bickered and they danced around the kitchen together and they kissed like newlyweds. Their never ending infatuation for each other grossed me out when I was growing up but I’d learned to appreciate a simple fact of life: Chase and Stephanie Gentry were in love.
“Take her on the trip,” I said. “It will give her something to look forward to. You know how she grieves over her empty nest ever since Thomas moved out.”
“Of course I’ll take her on the trip.” A wry grin. “You know I’d do anything for that lady.”
“Everyone knows that. Including Mom.”
“So what kind of romance is happening in your world?”
Cue the inward groan. A typical response to one’s dad firing a love life question. “The fun and unattached kind.”
“Nobody special?”
“I try to avoid headaches, not chase them.”
He clucked his tongue. “Such cynicism.”
“Come on, were you looking for a permanent attachment when you were my age?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Well, there you have it.”
“But then I met your mother. Now here I am all these years later and enjoying the opportunity to steal some of my son’s dinner.”
“Huh?”
He grabbed a couple of fries from my plate and smiled with his mouth full when I protested.
“What the hell? I’d expect that behavior from Derek.”
“He inherited it honorably.”
“You’re lucky you’re not Derek. Otherwise you might have gotten kicked.”
“But you wouldn’t kick an old man.”
“Nah, I’ll just tell Uncle Creed to do the honors.”
My dad laughed. Born into a set of unruly triplets down in a hardscrabble town called Emblem, he’d spent a lifetime sparring with his brothers. Particularly Uncle Creed, who he worked overtime to irritate. Their trio was rounded out by Uncle Cord, the perpetual voice of reason.
“Before I forget,” he said. “Your mom ordered me to make sure that you were aware of Cadence’s wedding next month.”
“I already carved out a place on my calendar.”
My dad was thoughtful. “Your aunt and uncle tried to talk her into having the wedding up here but she wouldn’t consider it.”
“We Gentry children are stubborn.”
He snorted. “Some of you more than others.”
“It makes sense that she’d have the wedding in Emblem. She lives and works down there now. So does Tristan.” I paused. “Sorry, I know you hate going to Emblem.”
He waved a hand. “I’ve long since made peace with the place.”
I hoped that was true. My father had always been candid about his gruesome childhood. Neglect, abuse, poverty. He’d fought his own battles with addiction in his youth. For him and for his brothers the town of Emblem was the epicenter of their suffering and they’d escaped as soon as they were able.
He obviously didn’t want to dwell on the topic of Emblem because he switched up the conversation and began telling funny stories about his students. My dad could talk for hours about his students. He referred to them like family members that I was expected to be familiar with. He’d been teaching high school for over twenty years and his enthusiasm never faded. And of course his students adored him. How could they not?
His phone suddenly beeped with an incoming text.
“It’s your mother,” he said and grinned down at his phone like a teenage boy with a crush as he one fingered a response. Chances were high there was some kind of grotesquely mushy banter going on that would make me gag over my chicken sandwich.
I took a look around for Luci, who’d been at risk of ignoring her other customers. She was now three tables away, her mouth pressed into a stress line as she took the order of a large family full of boisterous kids.
Then I noticed the girl.
She entered the room with hesitation, practically tiptoeing, like there was a chance if she moved quietly then no one would notice her. I could have told her there was no chance of that.
She was very striking. Tall, for one thing. Her reddish brown hair fell in loose waves halfway down her back. Killer body. Sculpted, perfect features and wide brown eyes. She would have been the kind of girl I’d make an effort to slyly approach with a dose of practiced charm if I didn’t already know her and feel inclined to keep my distance.
My dad completed his digital flirtation and noticed where I was looking. “Friend of yours?”
No. We’d never been friends.
“I’ve seen her around,” I said, intentionally evasive. I had my reasons.
Actually, Dad, she’s not a friend, just some girl I met at a party two years ago and then bounced around with until the break of dawn.
Call me crazy but I wasn’t keen on making a one night stand confession to my father. The only thing worse would be telling my mother.
Anyway, it was old news. Practically ancient history. The fact that we hadn’t spoken since then wasn’t my fault. I made an attempt to be gallant the next day and she slammed the freaking door in my face. I took that as a hint. In the months that followed I’d caught a few glimpses of her but she always avoided eye contact. Then she moved away or dropped out or something because she hadn’t been around in a while. I didn’t know what her problem was and at this point I wasn’t too interested in finding out so I was just going to return to my cheese fries and my dad.
Then I saw the look on her face. It managed to be desperate and defiant all at once. She hadn’t seen me, or else she pretended not to. She was lingering beside the salad bar and I thought she must have been looking for someone. But instead of craning her neck around in search of a companion she kept casting strange glances at the spread of food, as if she’d come here just to examine it.
Then, with no warning whatsoever, something terrible happened.
“Shit,” I swore and leapt out of the booth.
Chapter Three
Taylor
It was a relief to return to the modest neighborhoods surrounding the university.
Traffic was thick. Cars, bikes, pedestrians, zigzagging every which way because this was Saturday night, that carefree collection of hours when legions of college students poured out of their dorms and cheap apartments on the hunt for fun or a hookup.
The concept wasn’t even on my radar. No one’s hands had been on me for a long while, not that I didn’t have any chances. Getting off became tough when my mind was so preoccupied with more basic worries.
Like where I would sleep.
Or if certain family members planned to carry out some of their more savage implied threats.
Sure, I could have located a well-meaning guy and faked it but I didn’t see the point. I hadn’t had a boyfriend since high school and hadn’t enjoyed a decent screw since the twilight of freshman year on
the eve my life imploding.
Still, I found myself wishing I had a boyfriend now. My imaginary suitor didn’t have to be perfect; just a decent guy with broad shoulders and a deep voice that expressed perpetual support and understanding and strong arms that I didn’t mind falling asleep in. And if he resembled say, a Hemsworth brother, then so much the better but I wasn’t particular enough to make it a requirement.
My hunger and homelessness must be scrambling my brain.
I didn’t do this, didn’t fantasize about falling into the arms of some nonexistent hero. Fantasies were pointless and distracting. I tightened my hands around the steering wheel and concentrated on avoiding the careless pedestrians while making a mental list of my assets.
Crappy car.
Trunk full of clothes, toiletries and sentimental objects.
Two weeks left on my cell phone plan before I needed to make another payment.
Half a tank of gas.
Nine hundred and sixty two hard earned dollars in a checking account.
A monogrammed silver locket that I’d received from my grandmother on my thirteenth birthday and didn’t have the heart to part with.
Oh, and cash reserves of a dollar twelve. Can’t forget about that.
Hours stretched ahead before I could settle down for the night. Lately I’d been favoring a quiet side street not far from the university. The first time I ever slept in my car I’d drifted in and out with paranoid thoughts of roving rapists peeking through the windows. I’d learned that if I stretched out on the floor in the back and covered myself with blankets then no one could tell the car was occupied. Now I could sleep for several fitful hours at a time, which still wasn’t great but when your options are cut off you can surprise yourself when it comes to making do.
There was some hope on the horizon. Next week I had an appointment with a financial counselor. I’d given up on the idea of school for this semester. Before the summer I’d applied for some student loans but had filled out the paperwork incorrectly and they were denied. I hoped some guidance would push the process along.