I raised an eyebrow. Well played, I thought. “Has anyone ever told you that you should be a lawyer?”
He gave me a blank look. “Huh?”
I went over and got my phone and handed it to him. “Don’t download anything else,” I said, after I powered it back on and entered the passcode. He had a genuinely happy smile on his face as he took the thing from me.
“Thanks,” he said, the glow from the screen illuminating his face.
Now that he was all settled, I turned to the girls. “So, you want to watch something on Netflix?”
They both shook their heads. “No,” Haley said. “We want to watch something on YouTube.”
“Try not to laugh,” Susie said.
I picked up the Apple TV remote. “I’m not laughing.”
They both gave me an exasperated look. “No, that’s what we want to watch.”
“Oh. I don’t know what that is.”
I was thirty-four years old and had always felt fairly adept at all matters in life, but spending five minutes with the ten-and-under set really made me feel outdated and ignorant.
“It’s videos and you try not to laugh,” Haley explained patiently. “They’re really funny!”
Loud shooting sounds came from my phone. I glanced over; Oliver was frowning in concentration. “Can you turn that down a little?” I asked.
He obliged without replying. I sat down on the couch next to the girls to see what this “try not to laugh” was all about. There were dozens of videos. Maybe even hundreds. It was like watching unedited reels of America’s Funniest Home Videos, just without the host. And some were kind of funny, but most just confirmed a long-held belief: people were willing to do some seriously foolish things just for their two seconds in the limelight.
And that was how I spent my nice, quiet Friday night—sitting on the couch with my niece, my stepniece and stepnephew, while they were engrossed in whatever screen they were watching. I read a few chapters in the latest Soren Russell book I’d gotten—I was going to see him speak in a few weeks. He could technically be described as a self-help guru, though really, I just appreciated his take on the world. Be self-sufficient. Don’t put up with bullshit. Know what you want. Check, check, check.
When Jenn got back, the three of them were starting to yawn and rub their eyes, though the girls still protested when I turned the TV off, and Oliver was reluctant to hand the phone over.
“Were you guys well-behaved?” Jenn asked, looking at them expectantly as though she actually believed they would cop to any bad behavior.
“We were very good!” Haley said.
“They were,” I told my sister. “I almost wouldn’t have known they were here.”
“Well, that’s good,” Jenn said. “And, again, I’m so sorry we had to spring this on you last minute. I know that you like to have your Friday nights. I hope you didn’t have anything big planned.”
“No, I didn’t. Just hanging in.”
She looked at me, her eyes scrutinizing first my face, then my whole body. “What?” I said, feeling self-conscious after a few seconds passed and she didn’t say anything.
“Do you ever want to go on a date or something?”
I gave her a quizzical look. “Why on earth are you asking me that? Because I didn’t have plans tonight?”
“No! It’s totally fine that you didn’t have plans tonight—I’m not judging you! I was just talking with Gary about it and—”
“Talking with Gary about it? About what—my love life?”
“Well, he was saying that he was really grateful that you were able to take the kids on such short notice, and that he hoped we weren’t ruining any big plans you might have, and then I said that you probably didn’t have any big plans, because it was Friday night and you never did anything on Friday, unless it was something with work, and then Gary kind of got this sad look on his face, like he felt bad for you, and he asked why I thought it was that you never did anything on the weekend or had a boyfriend or anything.”
“Oh.” There was nothing like having your little sister discuss your love life (or lack thereof) to really make you feel like a dried-up old spinster. Though, truth be told, that’s pretty much what I was. I didn’t even count the last sex I’d had as actual sex because it had been that bad—a blind date my friend Olivia had set me up on. The date itself was actually not that bad, which was perhaps why I thought sleeping with this person—who shall remain nameless—was a good idea. That and the fact that I’d imbibed a bit more alcohol than I was used to. We went back to his place, a little one-bedroom in The Mission, and he was being very sweet and funny, but when the actual physical interacting began, he started to lick my face. Not like sexy little licks (does such a thing even exist?) but full-on postage-stamp licks, either side of my face, the bridge of my nose, my forehead. I was, in effect, getting a tongue bath, and if I hadn’t been feeling so tipsy, I would’ve shoved him off of me right then and there and left before any actual fornication occurred (which was over in under two minutes, once it got going).
Anyway. That was a time I had all but banished from my mind, and I didn’t count it as actual sex. But since I wasn’t counting that, you’d have to go back even further to my last encounter, which had been with an actual boyfriend, not just some random hookup or blind date. This actual boyfriend—who can also remain nameless—was someone whom I did have genuine feelings for, someone whom I (might have) thought I could even spend the rest of my life with. He was almost a decade older than me, an English professor at SF State, who would eventually get involved with one of his students. While we were still living together. I promptly moved out of his place, did a short-term rental for a little while, and then bought my little fixer-upper here in the Inner Richmond. I liked having my own house, even though it needed some work. The yard needed some work too—everything was in need of some TLC. But then again, I had been feeling the same way. I wasn’t feeling that way now, though—I had come to thoroughly enjoy my solitude. I had accepted the fact that I would be single, possibly celibate, for the rest of my life. Sure, I might miss it, but it was a trade-off—I might not be getting laid, I might not have a cuddle buddy on a rainy evening, but I could do what I wanted, when I wanted, and I wouldn’t have to answer to anyone.
“Don’t you… want a relationship?” Jenn ventured tentatively. “You know, someone to spend the rest of your life with?”
I knew what she wasn’t adding: that I was getting older. And that if kids were something that I also thought I might want, well, then I definitely better hurry up and find a life partner, or, at the very least, a sperm donor. But why would I need kids when I had my lovely younger sister who could be counted on to drop her brood on me, unannounced, at any given time?
I gave her a thin smile. “It’s touching that you’re concerned about me, really. And the fact that you’re discussing this with your husband just makes it all the more endearing. But I’m pretty okay with the way my life is now.”
“Have you ever tried an online dating site? Or one of the dating apps? Because this girl at work was telling me about it, and I swear, if those things had been more popular before I met Gary, I totally would’ve jumped on that bandwagon.”
“Yeah, I’m not so into the bandwagon thing. And you can’t trust what anyone says online, so why would I want that to be the basis for some future relationship?”
Jenn widened her eyes. “Come on, Lena,” she said. “That’s just what people do these days. And, besides, you have the potential to meet so many more people than you would in your daily life. And you know, you have a profile and stuff, and so that can sort of help to filter out people who might not be a good match.”
“You sound like a life coach.”
Jenn grinned when I said this, which was not necessarily the reaction I was expecting, because I hadn’t meant it as a compliment. “Well, that’s great!” she exclaimed.
“It’s great?”
“Yes! I didn’t get the chance to tell you yet, b
ut I’ve decided to become a life and dating coach! I’m working on getting clients. I have two already. But I’m obviously not yet at the level where I can quit my job or anything.”
I stared at her. “Are you serious?”
“I’m taking an online course to get certified. I love working at the ob-gyn office, but I really feel like I can do more to help people.”
“You’ve been working there for a long time now.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make a change—right? And I’m just the admin assistant. I want to do something more with my life. And I think this is the right thing. Gary is very supportive of it—he thinks that I’ve got a natural talent for coaching.”
She’d certainly make a better life coach than I would, that was for sure. “Good luck with that,” I said. “I’d just appreciate it if you didn’t use me as the guinea pig.”
“Okay, okay,” she said. “I’ll stop. I only brought it up because Gary and I were talking about it.”
“Where is Gary, anyway?”
“He’s out in the car—his mom called right when we pulled up, so he didn’t want to be rude and come in on the phone. He said he’d zip up to say hi if they got off before we got out there, but you know how chatty Carla can be!”
I had no idea how chatty my sister’s mother-in-law could be, but I smiled as if it was a little private joke between us.
“Come on, kids!” Jenn said. “It’s getting late—time to go.”
Before they left, the kids all gave me hugs and said goodnight. Oliver whispered in my ear, “Thanks for letting me play Fortnite, Aunt Lena,” which, admittedly, did put a (small) smile on my face. And then Jenn gave me a hug and they were gone, and I had my house back to myself.
Instead of being thrilled about reclaiming my space, though, the sudden removal of all the activity and noise made me feel… I don’t know, maybe a little lonely? It was in stark contrast to what I’d been feeling when the kids had been here, but now that they were gone, and I had the place to myself, I did find myself wishing that they were still around. What was up with that?
I sat on the couch and picked at what was left of the Chinese food. I let myself, for a moment, imagine what it would be like to have a guy there, a man whom I was in a relationship with, someone I respected and loved, and someone who felt the same way about me. And yes, there was a part of me (a tiny part) that did, in fact, yearn for that, but the problem was, this made-up guy did not exist. I’d be happy in a relationship with the sort of guy I could conjure up in my mind, but he certainly wasn’t out walking the streets of San Francisco. And I sure as hell did not want to end up in some dysfunctional relationship, where the people stay together because they think it’s better to be a couple and in conflict than alone. I’d been single for so long that I was used to it, and the fact was I liked my life perfectly fine how it was. Adding someone new into the equation just because it made society uncomfortable to see a single woman in her thirties was not something that I planned on doing anytime soon. Or ever, for that matter.
Chapter 2
Shep
“You free Wednesday night?”
I glanced at my identical twin brother, whose right eye was ringed with a shiner he’d gotten a few days ago. He also had some weird-looking scrape/bruise things on his left cheekbone. Courtesy of some brass knuckles, probably, and, more likely than not, Holden deserved it. “Not really,” I said. “Pretty busy.”
Holden kept his eyes on the TV, fingers moving back and forth on the controller. I pressed a few buttons, moved the joystick around, let his guy pummel mine. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, his smile getting bigger as his victory became more imminent. He had not told me anything about where he’d gotten the black eye from, or what it was over, though I could certainly take a few guesses.
“Why—what’s up?” I asked.
He waited until he had defeated me to elaborate. “Because, see,” he said, “I’ve got a little something going on Wednesday night, but I need a driver. Rocko was going to do it, but he threw out his back trying to move that washing machine his bitch of a wife bought. So he’s out. He’s all hopped up on all sorts of oxies; there’s no way he’s going to be fit to drive anything even if his back starts to feel better by then. And you know there’s no one I trust more in this world than you. So, what d’ya say?”
“A driver,” I repeated. “What the hell are you scheming now?”
Holden gave me that boyish grin of his that he always gave our mother when he was trying to convince her to let him do something that he shouldn’t. “It’s probably better if you didn’t know. I mean, I can give you the preliminary details, but I don’t think I should really get into it. It’s just better that way. For everyone.”
I tossed my controller down on the coffee table. “I sure as hell am not helping you with something if you’re not even going to tell me what it is. But—” I held my hand up when he opened his mouth. I didn’t really want to know, because I wasn’t going to be helping. If it was something my brother was into, it was probably no good. “Don’t bother telling me.”
He widened his eyes and gave me a hurt look, which I knew was a total front. I stared back at him, which was like looking in the mirror.
“Come on, bro,” he said. “If I can’t tell you, how are you going to help? You just said you wouldn’t help if I didn’t tell you. But now you’re saying you don’t want me to tell you.”
I was technically the “older” brother, by all of six minutes, but it might as well have been six years the way I felt some of the time. Scratch that—all of the time. I’d always been the one to look out for Holden, to have his back, throw down in fights for him. He had a mouth on him, that was for sure, and plenty of harebrained ideas to get himself—and whoever was fool enough to go along with him—into a world of trouble, but I always did what I could to keep him on the straight and narrow. It wasn’t easy—we were Parkingtons, after all, and engaging in nefarious activities seemed to be embedded in our very DNA. It was something that I’d been trying to escape for a long time now.
Which was why I had moved out of the family compound in the East Bay, to San Francisco, where I shared an apartment with two other guys. Now, when I say “family compound,” don’t get any grand ideas. We had a lot of land, which had been passed down through several generations, but the buildings on our compound were mostly run-down, outdated, or falling apart. This included the house that my parents lived in, that I had grown up in. My mom was always talking about cleaning things up, planting a garden, ripping out the carpet and putting in hardwood floors, but I knew as well as the next person that this was all a bunch of talk, because the only thing that any Parkington was concerned about was the family business: manufacturing and dealing meth.
I was not innocent when it came to this, either. I had done my fair share of deliveries, or had at least gone along with my dad and his brother, Frank, when they made deliveries. This had all been a long time ago, really before I was old enough to know any better. I hadn’t done anything in regard to that stuff in a while. It was the middle brother, my uncle Devin, who did the cooking. His ranch house on the compound was fully dedicated to that endeavor; he’d moved out and lived in a trailer on the property.
And just because I’d moved out didn’t mean that I had escaped, not by a long shot. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, even though part of me had hoped it would. Not only was blood thicker than water; it was also stronger than any rope you could imagine, tethering you to a family that you wanted to get away from.
“Jordy’s offered to do it if you won’t…” Holden said, and purposefully let the sentence trail off. His ace in the hole. Jordy, our cousin, had even more of a knack for getting into trouble than Holden did. Doing anything at all with Jordy was basically an invitation to get your ass kicked, get the cops called on you, or wind up in jail. Sometimes all three.
I sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it. But what exactly is it?”
Holden grinned. “Great
! Thanks, bro. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” He then proceeded to detail how he and his crew—comprised of many, but the core thugs being his best friends, Abe, Junior, and Stevie—had gotten word that some guy was trying to move some product in an area Holden considered to be his turf. They were going to go give the guy a beating and possibly burn down his house and whatever product he might have stored there.
“You don’t have to do anything,” Holden said. “Just wait in the car and be ready to drive away when we need you to.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s not like I haven’t done this before,” I said.
“Right, but it’s been so long I didn’t know if you might need a refresher course.”
I declined to bring up the fact that the last time I was roped into doing something like this (that time over a girl whom Abe thought was two-timing him) I had ended up not just being the driver, but also the person who jumped out to save my brother’s dumb ass when the girl’s brothers had shown up in full force. There was a good possibility that Holden would’ve been at the bottom of San Francisco Bay if I hadn’t been there to bail him out.
But he didn’t like to talk about that stuff—he only wanted to talk about the glory, the times when he and his crew were triumphant, not when they had their asses handed to them on a plate.
“I thought you told Dad you were going to give all that a rest for a little while.”
Holden threw his head back and laughed like I’d just told him the funniest joke ever. “Dude!” he crowed. “Brawling’s in my blood. Couldn’t give it up if I wanted to. I think I just told Dad that so he’d get off my case. But in this case, he approves, so you don’t have to worry about it.” He leaned over and socked me on the shoulder. “Quit being such a worrier.”
“I’m not worrying; I’ve got a fight this Saturday. I’ve got to prepare for that. A couple of guys from the UFC might be there. Might be there. But this could be my big chance.” More like second chance—five years ago I’d tried out and made it onto The Ultimate Fighter, but just a month before the first episode was to shoot, I severely pulled my right adductor muscle brawling this guy and his crew that Holden had a beef with. The fight had actually been going in our favor, but one of the guys—big guy, pushing two hundred, mostly muscle—had jumped on my back and the force of it basically made me do a split. The injury was so bad that I hadn’t been able to walk for nearly a week, and it took a long time to heal.
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