by Carrie Mac
“I just wanted to see what it’s like,” Milo said between giggles. “Just once.”
“And you didn’t think to use a condom?” Gigi crossed her arms. She was not laughing.
“We were high. And—”
“Stupid?”
“Sure.” Milo laughed. “We were stupid. And high. And I just wanted to see what it’s like. That’s not a crime, Gigi.”
“You wanted to try what for once?” Gigi sneered. “A vagina?”
“I like vaginas,” Jordan announced. “Definitely worth trying.”
“Shut up.” Gigi pointed at Jordan. “Why is that fat, ugly dyke even here?”
“Gigi!” Colby yelped. “That is so mean. Jordan, I am so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Colby.” Jordan stood up. “I’m okay with being a fat, ugly dyke. Better than being a skinny, nasty bitch—”
“Really?” Gigi squared her shoulders. “You want to start something in my own house?”
“And on that note, I’m out of here.” Jordan headed for the door. “I’ll leave you three to sort this out.”
“Before I beat the crap out of you,” Gigi snapped. “Good idea.”
“Bye, Colby.” Jordan hitched her duffel over her shoulder and gave Colby a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon, hon. You’ll be okay here. Right?”
“Yeah.” Colby put her forehead on Jordan’s chest. Jordan wrapped her arms around her and gave her a tight hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Oh my god, Colby,” Gigi said. “When I told you to find a fat lesbo to keep you warm in rehab, I didn’t mean it for real.”
“We’re just friends,” Colby said. “She’s a really good friend.”
“Like I’m not?” Gigi challenged.
Colby didn’t want to answer that. She wasn’t sure what she’d say. She didn’t trust what she’d say.
Suddenly her mouth felt desperately dry. She wanted a tall glass of ginger ale, full of ice. And a stack of graham crackers. She wanted a dark room and a comfortable bed. She wanted sleep. She wanted her dad, who didn’t even know he was going to be a grandpa. She wanted Milo to want her, but not in a fake-marriage kind of way. She wanted Gigi to stop being so awful. But at least, and thankfully, she didn’t want to get high.
break-in
Okay, so Jordan and Gigi were never going to be best friends. That much was clear, but after a while, they stopped always being on the brink of beating each other up. Or on the brink of Gigi going cat-fight crazy on Jordan. Jordan said she’d never hit a girl. It was a butch dyke “rule,” according to her. But a few times, Colby could see she had to really work at not breaking that rule.
Eventually, Gigi even agreed to let Jordan come along on one of their jobs. She’d been watching a house up in Kerrisdale, and she was pretty sure it didn’t have an alarm system. There were no signs on the lawn, and the couple who lived there came and went quickly, like they weren’t taking time to set or deactivate an alarm. They had two little kids, a nanny, two cars, a housekeeper, a gardener and, as Gigi put it, “could totally afford to share their shit.”
“What if they do have an alarm?” Jordan asked when they were getting close. Her role was to park Gram’s car about a block away and then pull up when Colby texted her to. There was an alley where she’d idle while the others loaded up the car.
“I’ve got a backup plan,” Gigi said. She wasn’t totally high, but she wasn’t exactly not high either. She was jittery and irritable. Colby knew what that was like. The sharp edge between coming down and needing more. Colby knew Gigi was just trying to stick to Gram’s clear-head rule, but she was a jonesing mess.
“Care to share it?” Jordan said.
“No, actually.”
There was a long silence. Colby sighed. “Everybody, be nice.” And then to Jordan, “This is Gigi’s thing. She’s really, really good at figuring out which houses don’t have alarms, or which ones are between alarms, or which ones aren’t working. It’s almost like a sixth sense.”
“Thanks, Colby.” Gigi smirked. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”
“It is.” Colby sighed again. “I’m not mad at you. You’re the one playing cold shoulder.”
“Well, you have your new best friend and your little trio of recovery buddies.” Gigi tapped the window. “You don’t need me. I just want to get this done so I can go get high.” She made a pretend pout when the three of them frowned. “Oh, am I threatening your sparkly new cleanliness? Good. Park here.”
Jordan pulled over. Milo and Colby shared a look, but neither of them said anything more.
Milo touched the plastic Peter Pan figure hanging from the rearview mirror.
“Everyone touch the Peter,” he said.
Jordan laughed. “That’s so gay.”
“It’s for good luck,” Milo said. “Everybody touches the Peter. You too, rookie.”
Jordan flicked it, sending it into a kind of aerial dance.
“Be careful.” Jordan looked at Colby when she said it.
“We will.” Colby felt the baby move. She put her hand to her belly.
She knew it wasn’t right to be stealing. Especially with the baby. She was pretty sure that jail would suck for a pregnant woman. But they’d never got caught before, and they weren’t going to get caught now either. Colby got welfare, but it was hardly anything. She liked the extra money she got from stealing. She’d have to think of a better—and legal—way to make some money. Right now, though, this was it. Good idea or bad idea, she got out of the car.
The house was old and very elegant. The hedge was almost as tall as the mansion-like home itself and provided good coverage. Gigi had decided that midmorning was the best time. The nanny was out with the children, the gardener came on alternate days and this wasn’t one of them, the housekeeper went out for the day on Wednesdays, the husband was at work, the wife was at yoga, and the dog was with the dog walker.
Milo chose a side door and set about picking the lock. Just as Gigi was good at picking the target, Milo was good at getting them in. What was Colby good at? Not much. She was a very capable pair of hands though. And an extra set of eyes.
Once inside, Colby headed upstairs to find the master bedroom. As much as people were cautioned to keep their valuables in a safe, or at least in an odd, unguessable place, they usually didn’t. Colby had good luck finding jewelry in actual jewelry boxes on the tops of dressers or out in plain sight in walk-in closets and dressing rooms. People were kind of dense that way.
Sure enough, there was a small mirror-and-silver jewelry box sitting atop a shelf in the walk-in closet, which was bigger than her and Gigi’s room at Gram’s.
Colby took the whole thing. She’d have a look at what was inside later. No doubt something worthwhile, if not the box itself.
She went downstairs, the jewelry box under one arm, to find Gigi and Milo.
Milo had several reusable shopping bags over his shoulder and an armload of electronics.
“Not the kids’ stuff though.” Colby lifted a few things out of his arms.
“You’re going soft.” Gigi had a wheeled shopping cart, bulging at the seams. “Bet they send the housekeeper to the store with this thing. I can’t imagine the owners being caught dead rolling it down the sidewalk behind them.”
“Let’s go.” The baby was kicking lots, and Colby was thirsty and needed to pee. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Get over it, Colby. You’re pregnant.” Milo pointed to a powder room at the end of the hall. “Use that one.”
“I’ll wait.” Colby didn’t like to do normal things in the houses they were robbing. Gigi liked to help herself to their food, and Milo had no qualms about turning on the TV or taking a piss.
“No.” Colby just liked to get in and get out. She texted Jordan. “Let’s go.”
Milo, Gigi and Colby headed to the back gate, where Jordan was just pulling up. She popped the trunk. Colby and the others put the things inside, then got into the car.
�
�Want some chocolate?” Gigi offered a box of expensive chocolates. “I was totally looking for candy, but this was all I could find.” Colby took one and popped it into her mouth. Milo took one too, but Jordan just shook her head as she turned onto the street.
“You okay?” Colby asked.
Jordan looked pale. “Yup. Fine.”
Gigi leaned forward from the backseat and laughed. “You’re scared shitless.”
“No, I’m not.”
“It’s okay,” Milo said. “It takes a while to not be.”
“I’m not scared.”
“It’s okay if you are,” Colby said. She offered Jordan the bottle of water.
“I’m not scared!” Jordan shouted.
“Right,” Gigi said. “Whatever you say.”
“Let’s just go, okay?” The baby kicked, hard. “Heck, even the baby wants to go home.”
The four of them rode the rest of the way back to the pawnshop in silence. As the chocolate melted in her mouth, Colby knew that this was the last time she’d break into someone’s house. It seemed different this time. Dirtier. As if the baby and being clean set a new standard of okay, and this failed miserably. Or maybe it was Jordan, and how she nearly vibrated with unease, casting a shadow of disapproval over the whole thing. Either way, Colby was done. The money had been so important when she was spending it on getting high. But it simply wasn’t worth it anymore.
sparklies
When they got back to Gram’s, Colby put the jewelry box on her bed and went to the bathroom again. She always had to pee these days. The bathroom was just off the kitchen, and she could hear Milo and Gigi telling Gram how it went.
“Jordan nearly pissed herself,” Gigi said with a laugh.
“Didn’t,” Jordan muttered.
“God, did so.”
Colby closed her eyes. She put her head in her hands, elbows on her knees. She opened her eyes and saw her big belly, her pale knees, her pants and underwear bunched around her ankles. The chipped linoleum. The caulk around the tub. Gigi’s pink terrycloth bathrobe hanging behind the door. The sink with the rust stain. The mirror with the crack at the bottom from Gigi throwing the hair dryer at it once when she was arguing with Gram.
Colby tried to remember what Gram and Gigi had been arguing about. Going out? A mess in the kitchen? A guy Gram didn’t approve of?
That was it. Danilo. The one Gram said she could tell was evil just by the look in his eyes.
And he was. Colby had pulled Gigi out of a nasty abandoned warehouse after Danilo punched Gigi in the face.
Or was she thinking of the other guy? With the motorcycle?
Colby was tired of rescuing Gigi. She was tired of stealing. She was tired of living in the middle of so much drug use, in a neighborhood plagued by it. It wasn’t good for her. Or the baby.
Her ankles were swollen.
She felt like she still had to pee, but she already had. Her bladder hurt.
The last time she was with the midwife, she’d had her pee on a stick to check for a bladder infection. It’d been borderline.
She bet she had one now.
In the kitchen, Gigi and Jordan were still arguing. Colby sighed. She couldn’t sit on the toilet all day, even if hiding in the bathroom seemed more appealing than refereeing those two.
She pulled her pants up, washed her hands and opened the door.
Gram had gone back to the shop.
“You think you know me.” Jordan leaned forward, both hands splayed on the table in front of her. “But you don’t. So stop acting like you do.”
“I totally know you.” Gigi laughed. “You’d like to think that I don’t, but I do. You hated every minute of it. You are so transparent. It’s the only thin thing about you. I can see right through you. You were scared.”
“Whatever—”
“Is what people say when they know the other person is right.”
“Fuck you, Gigi.”
“Is what people say when they’ve run out of anything else to say.”
“Stop it, you guys!” Milo put his head in his hands. “Give it a rest.”
“Gladly,” Jordan said.
“Says the one who knows she’s lost.”
“Lost what?”
“The debate.”
“The debate?” Now Jordan laughed. “You think you have any debating skills at all, Gigi? For real? You’re not even smart enough to enter into a debate about what kind of nail polish to put on.”
“What do you know about nail polish, dyke?”
“Uh-uh.” Jordan pushed back her chair and stood up. “I’m out of here. I don’t need this shit, coming from some junkie bitch.”
“Jordan, stay,” Colby said.
“You’re picking her over me?” Gigi stood up too. She glared at Colby. “Some best friend you are.”
Before Colby could answer, Jordan spoke up. “You’re not acting like much of one either these days.”
“Stay out of it, dyke.”
“STOP IT!” Colby shouted. “All of you!”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” Milo muttered, head still in his hands.
“I’ll go.” Jordan pulled her jacket on. “Want to come with me, Colby? I’ll buy you one of those whipped-cream-sugar-coffee-ice things you love.”
“I don’t…” Colby wanted to choose Gigi. But she didn’t want to deal with Gigi’s anger. And besides, Gigi was just going to go get high anyway. If Colby went with her…
Colby didn’t want to think about that.
She was going to stay clean. No matter what. And part of staying clean meant staying away from drugs. Which meant staying away from Gigi. The reality of that hit Colby hard. She swallowed.
“I’ll come with you, Jordan.”
“I’ll come too,” Milo said. “If that’s okay?”
“Sure,” Jordan said. “My treat.”
“Must be nice,” Gigi said.
“Okay,” Jordan said with a sigh. “I’ll bite. What’s nice?”
“To have money.”
“I earn it.”
“Like it takes effort to take it from your mommy’s wallet.”
“I have a job.”
This clearly surprised Gigi.
“See?” Jordan shook her head. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Yeah, well, I have a job too.” Gigi scraped her chair back and wagged a finger between Milo and Colby. “And if these two assholes won’t do their part of it, I guess that leaves me to help Gram go through everything.”
Gigi stalked down the hall and disappeared into the shop, slamming the door behind her.
“You know what?” Colby rested her hands on her belly. It felt hard to catch her breath. Her head felt light.
The baby kicked, as if to let Colby know that he or she was right there.
Listening. Taking everything in. All of this. The fighting. The stealing. The dark cloud of drug use hanging just overhead, threatening to break and soak them all. “I don’t want to go anywhere. I just need to go lie down.”
Colby stood in the hall outside the room she shared with Gigi. For the first time since getting kicked out of her dad’s house, she wanted her own room again. Her own place. Away from all of this. Away from Gigi.
But she had this room. This was it for now.
Colby sat on the bed. She rested the jewelry box in her lap.
When she opened it, she gasped.
Right on top lay a necklace encrusted with diamonds, nestled on one of those black velvet molds that keeps the necklace in the right shape.
Beside it, a small black velvet box. Inside were matching earrings.
A sapphire bracelet tucked in a velvet drawstring bag.
Four gold rings in one of the drawers. One that looked very old and had a large solitaire diamond in a delicate setting.
And a small gold bangle, meant for a child.
There was an inscription on the outside. Guess how much I love you?
And on the inside too. Up to the moon and back.
Colby felt as if someone had grabbed her heart and squeezed. She had to concentrate on taking a deep breath, and it was hard.
This bracelet didn’t belong here. In Gram’s house. In Colby’s hand.
None of the jewelry did.
It didn’t belong to them.
Colby would take it all back.
She heard Gigi coming down the hall, talking on her cell. Colby shoved everything back into the box, slammed it shut and slid it under her bed.
Gigi opened the door and saw Colby. She rolled her eyes.
“I thought you went out with your faggot fiancé and lesbian lover-best friend.” Without waiting for a reply, Gigi turned on her heel. “No,” she said into the phone. “Just Colby and her gigantic belly, taking up space in MY room. I’ll meet you in ten minutes. Yeah, I’ve got money.”
When she was gone, Colby opened the jewelry box again. She touched the child’s bracelet.
She’d give it all back. Just drop the box on the front step and take off.
Not right away though. They’d be hypervigilant now. And besides, she had to go pee in a cup for Mr. Horvath. But first, a nap.
hey, baby
For whatever reason, no one asked about the jewelry box. Colby figured that Jordan and Gigi had been too busy hating each other to remember it. Milo probably hadn’t noticed it in the first place.
Gram did ask if anyone had found any jewelry, but when they all said no—including Colby—she hadn’t pushed. Nor did anyone mention the box. So it stayed under Colby’s bed, while she tried to figure out when to take it back.
Colby was enormous now. It was hard to find a comfortable position at night, and so she tossed and turned, shoving various-sized pillows under her hips, between her knees, along her back. Nothing was comfortable. She hardly slept, which left her with long dark nights to do nothing but think.
About how to move out of Gram’s. About where her dad might be. About the baby. About how it would feel to be a mom.
Sometimes she’d get a sudden pain. Practice contractions, her midwife told her. They didn’t mean that the baby was coming, just that her body was getting ready. At first, Colby had been terrified of them. But at night, when she was lost in a sea of dark thoughts, she appreciated them for kicking her back to reality.