by Naomi Niles
“Still too expensive,” I said. “I need to save every penny I make.”
Lacey looked out across the field. “Did you get your car back?”
“I picked it up yesterday,” I nodded.
“No repairs?”
“I couldn’t afford them,” I sighed. “So, I’m just hoping nothing major happens when I’m behind the wheel.”
“Have you thought about selling?”
I snorted with humorless laughter. “No one would buy that car – it’s a piece of junk. My only option is to drive it till it conks out completely.”
“I’m nervous about you driving it,” she told me.
I shrugged. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”
Lacey nodded. “Mom called last night,” she said, changing the subject.
“How is your mom?”
“Doing well,” she replied. “All things considered. She’s pushing sixty now and still working two jobs. Sometimes I wonder if that’s going to be me in thirty-five years.”
I recognized the frustration in her voice. It was the kind of disillusionment that settled in after years of working your ass off and having nothing to show for it. I wanted to reassure her, but I happened to share her cynical mindset. All the optimism I used to have had dried up a long time ago.
“All we can do is what we’ve been doing,” I said. “Work hard and hope we get lucky somewhere down the line.”
“Get lucky?” Lacey repeated. “What on earth does that mean?”
I smiled. “You know what? I have no fucking clue.”
We both burst out laughing. We were interrupted when my phone started ringing. I picked it up and saw Danny’s name on the screen. “Hi, bud,” I said. “You better have a good reason for not being here.”
“I was going through the accounts,” he said apologetically.
“I told Lacey that was what you’d say.”
“It took longer than usual,” he admitted, and his tone told me that he was a little down.
“Is everything alright, Danny?” I asked, my tone changing to one of concern.
“We didn’t do so well this week,” he sighed.
“Did we at least break even?” I asked.
“A loss,” he sighed. “It’s small, but it’s still a loss.”
“How can that be?” I asked. “I thought we had a pretty busy week.”
“The cost of meat went up last month,” Danny said. “And we had a few breakages, plus electricity… Our overheads are eating away at any profits I manage to make.”
“Shit,” I sighed. “I’m sorry, Danny.”
“I guess I just wasn’t in the marathon training mood today,” he said.
“Hey, I get it,” I told him. “But you’re still in for bowling, right? It might cheer you up.”
“Oh I’m definitely in for bowling,” Danny said. “I really need the distraction. I was thinking of heading to your place now, actually. Then we could all leave together from there.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I nodded. “See you soon.”
We hung up, and I turned to Lacey. “Poor Danny,” I said.
“Loss, huh?” she said, shaking her head. “That sucks.”
“Pretty much,” I agreed.
She groaned in frustration. “Man, I am such a bitch!”
I looked at her with a start. “Umm…why?”
“Because our best friend basically just said his business wasn’t doing so well and all I can think of is ‘damn, I guess that means we’re never going to get a pay increase.’ I am just a horrible human being.”
I gave her a sympathetic glance. “You’re not,” I assured her. “You’re just trying to survive, same as everyone else.”
Lacey gave me a look that told me she had a confession to make. “What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she mumbled.
“Come on,” I said. “Out with it.”
“Lately I’ve been thinking…”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know, maybe it would be worth it to look into some other jobs.”
I met her eyes for a moment. “You mean like a second job?”
“No, I mean like…another job.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Yeah…” Lacey nodded. “I am a terrible friend.”
“Come on,” I said bracingly. “You’re not. You’re just being practical. Danny will understand.”
“Will he?”
“I think so,” I nodded. “We have each other’s backs.”
“Then why do I feel as though I’m stabbing him in his?”
“Because you are a good friend,” I said. “And, you’re worried about how leaving would affect him. But Danny’s a good guy. He’ll understand.”
“I haven’t decided anything yet,” she said. “It was just an errant thought I had the other day. I just don’t want to be fifty and still be waiting tables.”
“I get it,” I said. “I don’t want that for myself, either.”
Lacey nodded and then she smiled. “Should we head off then?”
We got up and made our way back to my place. We decided to take the scenic route through Hatfield Avenue, which incidentally held all the biggest, best, and most expensive homes in the area. We loved to look at the homes. They were massive two- and three-story houses with huge front yards, fancy cars in the drives, and perfect paint jobs.
“What do you think rich people worry about?” Lacey asked, as we walked through the neighborhood.
“I don’t know,” I said. “They probably worry about whether the gardener will do a good enough job in the backyard because of the lawn party coming up on Sunday.”
Lacey smiled. “Or maybe they worry about whether the new designer sofa they purchased will match the décor of the living room.”
“Or if the laundromat will be able to get the stains off the Persian throw that they purchased in Venice a few months ago.”
“A Persian throw from Venice?” Lacey asked, with one raised eyebrow.
I laughed. “I don’t claim to understand rich people.”
“Obviously not,” she said.
I sobered up a little when I saw the swing set in the front yard of a beautiful Victorian-inspired two-story home. “In all seriousness, though, I’m sure rich people have their problems, too.”
“Oh yeah?” Lacey said challengingly. “Like what?”
“I bet they worry about their kids, the same as any parent would,” I said. “I bet they worry about falling sick because disease doesn’t discriminate.”
“They may worry about their kids,” she nodded. “But at least they have the money to support their children and send them to college and give them the best possible start in life. They may worry about falling sick, but they have brilliant health insurance plans and enough money to spend on the best doctors, the best hospitals, and the best medical care.
“I’m not denying that rich people have problems, I’m just saying they have more options when it comes to figuring out those problems.”
I nodded. “Yeah…” I sighed. “Man, it would be nice to be rich.”
“Don’t worry,” she said, changing her tone suddenly. “One day, we’re going to own this whole row of houses!”
It was a meaningless sentence. It was far off dream that I knew would never be realized, and yet, it made me feel better. We might be broke, but we could still dream. And it would be one of the few things that could keep us sane. We found Danny waiting outside my door when we arrived.
“You beat us here,” I smiled. “Been waiting long?”
“Ten minutes,” he said.
“Sorry,” I said. “We took Hatfield Avenue.”
“The long route again?” he said, shaking his head as we walked into my tiny apartment. “You guys like torturing yourselves, don’t you?”
“The houses are pretty,” Lacey said.
“And it’s nice to imagine yourself in one of them?” Danny asked knowingly.
“Always,” she nodded. “Now, let’s get
to the important stuff.”
“Which is?”
“Deciding what to wear,” Lacey said, dragging Danny and I over to my closet.
Lacey and I usually borrowed clothes from one another. Despite the fact that our styles were so different, we always managed to put together different combinations that would transform each piece of clothing into our own unique styles. It was a skill you learnt when you had only a few choices to work with. You learnt to be versatile.
“How about we shower first?” I suggested.
“Together?” Danny asked, with one raised eyebrow. “Kinky.”
Lacey and I glared at him together. Unconcerned, he fell back onto my bed and smiled widely at the two of us. “Because if you did, that would really make my day. And, I haven’t had a particularly good one so far.”
“Sorry, bud,” I said. “You’re going to have to be satisfied with bowling.”
Lacey and I took it in turns to shower. I put on my ratty old bathrobe, while Lacey wrapped a towel under her arms. Then we started throwing clothes around, much to Danny’s annoyance.
“Must we do this every time?” he demanded. “Just pick something. It’s just bowling.”
“But there might be hot guys there,” Lacey said.
“The hottest guy there will be me…”
“Urgh, that isn’t saying much now is it?” she teased. “Oh my God, Brit,” she said, holding up an old dress that I had owned since I was a teenager. “This is practically vintage.”
I laughed. “You like it?”
“It’s fabulous,” she said. “A little too long at the hem, though.”
“You’re not cutting the hem,” I said sternly.
“Aw come on,” Lacey wheedled.
“No way,” I said, shaking my head.
“Hey, what about this one?” Danny asked, picking up a slinky black number.
I rolled my eyes at him. “That’s lingerie.”
“Oh… Well, it could pass as a dress.”
“I’m not wearing that one, Danny.”
“Man, it’s like you guys don’t even like me.”
We spent a happy half hour playing around with different combinations of clothes. I didn’t have much, but it didn’t seem to matter. We had each other and that company made all the difference. We laughed, we talked, and we complained, and in the midst of all that chaos, I had a realization.
No one could have it all. Some people had money and security and others had love and friendship. The ideal situation would be to have both. But I knew that if I had to choose between them, I would choose this moment every time.
Chapter Eleven
Talen
I groaned as my phone rang for the third time that morning. Whoever it was, was going to be annoyingly persistent, it seemed. I sat up and answered the call.
“Sup, bro!”
“Sam,” I sighed. “It’s fucking early.”
“I know,” he replied happily. “I figured I’d catch you before you started training.”
“You could have also called me in the night after training.”
“I’m just coming off a shift,” he said. “I had a little free time, and I thought, what would piss Talen off at this hour?”
“Asshole,” I said, but I couldn’t suppress my laugh. “So, what’s up?”
“You tell me, Mr. Big Shot MMA Fighter. How’s the training going?”
“It’s going good,” I replied. “The trainer is good and my training partner is…”
“Is?”
“Well, he’s a bit strange, but I can work with him.”
“Strange?”
“He’s from Louisiana.”
“Well, that explains it,” Sam laughed.
“He’s a little like you…” I thought that explained it more.
“Fuck off,” he said, good-naturedly.
“I got my first match.”
“Get out!” he gasped. “Really?”
“Really.”
“When, where, and with whom?”
“It’ll be in January,” I said. “The ‘where’ has yet to be decided, and it’s going to be against Kendrick Conner.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Aren’t I always.”
“Jesus!”
“What do you think?” I asked. “Do you think I have a shot?”
“If anyone does, it’s you,” he replied. “And, I don’t think I’m being biased when I say that.”
I smiled. “Thanks, bro.”
“This is great though, Talen,” Sam said, and he sounded in awe. “If you beat him, it’s going to make your career.”
“I’m aware,” I nodded. “It’s a lot of pressure.”
“You’ve always been good with pressure.”
“If you say so,” I said. “How about you? How is Mia? Renni?”
“Both doing great,” he replied. “I see them almost every day, except on the days when my shifts are so hectic that I just can’t make it over there. Sometimes I sneak in at night, though. Mia’s given me a share key.”
“What’s it like, being a kind of stepdad?”
“I feel like I’m already a dad,” Sam replied. “It’s grounded me in a way I’ve never experienced before.”
“I’m glad; you were certainly in need of grounding.”
He laughed. “Met anyone interesting over there?”
I paused so infinitesimally that Sam didn’t catch it. “Nope,” I said. “No one. I’m too busy with training.”
“Yeah I can imagine,” he agreed. “Anyway, I’m gonna let you go. I need to go get some sleep.”
“Lucky you,” I said moodily. “I gotta get ready for training.”
Sam laughed. “Just wanted to start your day off right, man! You’re welcome.”
I rolled my eyes, said goodbye, and hung up. Then I showered quickly and headed over to the diner. I had always meant to try different places when I moved to the area, but somehow the ugly green and pink diner had wrestled its way into my psyche and I always headed in that direction without making a conscious decision.
When I got there, Brittany was behind the counter. She was dressed in dark jeans and a tight gray sweater. The term “hourglass” had never been more appropriate. Her dark black hair had an almost blue sheen under the sunlight, and her blue eyes were bright and intense. She looked up as I entered, and her face lit up into a soft welcoming smile.
“Morning.”
“Morning,” I replied.
“Same old?”
“Same old,” I nodded.
I headed to my usual booth at the back of the diner. A few minutes later, she approached with a plate of toast and a steaming mug of coffee.
“How was your weekend?” I said. I spoke abruptly, as though I was afraid she would disappear if I didn’t speak soon enough.
She turned to me and smiled. “It started out pretty crappy, actually,” she said honestly. “But it picked up towards the end. We went bowling.”
“Bowling?”
“Sounds juvenile,” she said. “But sometimes juvenile fun is just what you need.”
She had a soft smile, the kind that made dimples erupt on her cheeks. A part of me wanted to reach out and touch those dimples. It was such a strange thought that it caught me by surprise and I found myself staring at her.
“What about you?” she asked.
“Uh…mine was…okay.”
“Just okay?” she asked.
“I went to a club with a friend,” I said.
“And?” she asked. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
I shrugged. “I suppose I enjoyed watching Ryan get turned down all night.”
She laughed. “Poor Ryan,” she said, as if she already knew him.
She was about to say something when an older lady sitting at a booth near the breakfast counter shouted out for Brittany.
“Coming, Monica,” she replied. She turned to me apologetically. “You’ll have to excuse me. Monica’s not the patient type…especially when she’s hun
gry.”
I nodded, and Brittany turned away. I tried to avert my gaze, but it fell directly onto her beautifully-shaped ass. I had to admit, she looked amazing walking away. Brittany was at the cash register when I walked up.
“One of these days, you’re going to need to have a real breakfast,” she said, accepting my cash.
“I’m a creature of habit.”
“How boring,” she said, but her smile softened her words.
“I’ve been called worse.”
Her smile widened. She walked around the counter so that she was at my shoulder, and I had to crane my neck to the side to meet her face. She brushed past me a little as she passed.
“You should let me show you around,” she said as she walked backwards slowly. “I know all the good spots around here.”
I raised my eyebrows slightly. “Umm…I’m really busy at the moment.”
“Well, when you stop being busy, let me know.”
Then she turned and headed over to see to the new diners that had just walked in. I allowed myself only a moment to watch her before I headed out towards the training grounds. I didn’t see Ryan when I walked in, but I caught sight of Wendell by the ring usually reserved for our training.
“Wendell,” I nodded, as I approached.
“Talen,” Wendell replied. “You’re looking particularly bulky today.”
I frowned at that incredibly creepy comment and removed my coat. Wendell looked me up and down with a critical eye that also held a note of personal interest. His goatee didn’t exactly help matters, either. I ignored his gaze and started my warm ups.
“Did Steven let you know about Wednesday?” he asked.
“No.”
“You’re not going to be training on Wednesday.”
I turned to him. “Why not?”
“Because we’re going to be doing a promotional photo shoot for you in preparation for your upcoming fight.”
I stopped my stretches and glared at him. “Say that again.”
“A promotional photo shoot,” he repeated. “To get your image and your name out there before your fight with Kendrick Conner.”
I took a deep breath. “Do I have to do this?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “We’re spending a fuck load of money to do this,” he said. “Most fighters don’t get this kind of backing – and trust me, they want it.”