Rusty Logic

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Rusty Logic Page 11

by Robin Alexander


  Rusty nodded. “The jambalaya is good.”

  “It’s comfort food. Mom is trying to calm me through my stomach. I usually have breakfast with my parents in the mornings, and this is her way of telling me not to stop that. But I’m not going for a few days because I’m afraid of what I might say.”

  “Say it to me.” Rusty waved a hand. “Don’t look at me like that, you know you want to get it out of your system.”

  “Okay,” Kirsten said with a nod. “Then you have to tell off your mother.”

  “This is um…more of a venting opportunity for you.”

  “That’s the deal, take it or leave it.” Kirsten inhaled deeply. “I’m looking forward to purging my soul, so don’t let me down here.”

  Rusty chewed her bottom lip. “All right, but we eat first. I need nourishment before I lose my mind on you.”

  They ate in silence for a moment or two, and Kirsten said, “That was a really nice thing you did for Stella. The bridge made her happy, so you’re not a real dick.”

  “She’s a strange bird, isn’t she?”

  “Eccentric is the word my mother uses,” Kirsten said with a laugh. “She wrecks my nerves sometimes…a lot of times, but I still can’t help but love her. Stella has an odd way of handling things, but she really does have a good heart. You’re about to see that now that you’re in her favor.”

  *******

  “All right, be serious and just let it all roll out,” Rusty said and folded her arms.

  She and Kirsten stood in the middle of Kirsten’s living room. Kirsten inhaled deeply and shook her hands as though she were loosening up to attempt some sort of athletic feat. She met Rusty’s gaze, her mouth popped open, and nothing came out, then she started to laugh.

  “Look, it feels stupid to me, too, but Neil says he does this with his wife all the time, and he feels lighter and refreshed.” Rusty frowned. “He’s probably telling me off when he does that.”

  “Provoke me, I think that’ll help. Say something insulting.”

  Rusty nodded and set her hands on her hips. “I can do that.” She puckered her lips and looked as though she were about to go on a tirade, then laughed.

  “This is dumb,” Kirsten said and scrubbed at her face.

  “No, it’s not. Can I fuss at you like one of my employees?”

  Kirsten pursed her lips and nodded. “Do it in my face, though. Be confrontational, that’ll rile me up.”

  Rusty stepped up to Kirsten and said, “This is a business, you’re supposed to look and act like a professional when you’re in this building. What you’re wearing is appropriate for a hooker, not an administrative assistant.”

  “Did you really say that to someone?” Kirsten asked, blinking rapidly.

  Rusty shrugged. “More or less.”

  “Have you ever been sued by an employee?”

  “Neil says it’s just a miracle we haven’t,” Rusty said with a sigh. “Putting your clothes on is a basic skill set. Your pants should cover your butt, your shirt should cover your bra, which should cover your areolas.”

  “Okay, this still isn’t working for me. Say something like…oh! A woman shouldn’t be the chief of police.”

  Rusty shook her head vehemently. “I can’t do that. I’d bite my tongue off just trying to push that past my lips. Does your dad really feel that way?” she asked with her voice rising.

  “I think he does. He makes comments like ‘you being a woman clouds your judgment.’ One time he got pissed at me and said my brothers had let him down because he wanted them to follow in his shoes, not me.”

  “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” Rusty bellowed as she walked in a circle. “I cannot tell you how angry that makes me.”

  “I can see it.”

  Rusty stepped up to Kirsten so close that their noses almost touched. “You must agree with that on some level. During your training, did they send you out of the room to sew dresses while the men learned to investigate murder so as not to offend your delicate sensibilities? When they taught you how to shoot, did they move your target in closer than the men’s? When you graduated, did your diploma or whatever certificate they gave you say ‘honorable mention’ or ‘we had to give her this because she’s a woman’?”

  “I graduated at the top of my class, I had to! I had to be better or at the very least equal with my male peers. That was the standard I set for myself. If they were handing out breaks, I sure as hell wasn’t gonna take one. Maybe I was appointed chief because of my dad, and the good ol’ boys club thought they could manipulate me like they did him, but they’re dead wrong. If that’s what they wanted, they bet on the wrong horse,” Kirsten said, shaking with rage.

  Rusty knew she had hit all the right buttons. Kirsten’s eyes were huge, her jaw set. Rusty pushed a little harder, almost fearful of the explosion she might cause.

  “It must be an embarrassment to your dad when you refuse to do what he tells you. I’m sure he thinks you’re his puppet. You know, he’s really still chief, and you’re just acting the part.”

  “I am the chief!” Kirsten yelled. “The position is mine regardless of why they gave it to me. I take care of everyone in this town, not just the mayor’s favorites. I conduct my business above board because I will not continue a legacy of corruption. Living up to my own convictions is more important to me than making my dad look like the hero.”

  Kirsten wrapped her arms around herself as her face contorted. “He’s not the man I thought he was,” she said and sucked in a breath between clenched teeth.

  “That disappoints you?”

  “Well, yeah,” Kirsten said angrily.

  “Then I’m your dad. Tell me that.”

  For a moment, Kirsten looked as though she’d go off again but shook her head. “I can’t. I don’t want to say something that would devastate him. Even pretending hurts too much. I still love him.” She sighed. “I guess that’s why they say love is blind because you’d rather look past the faults.”

  “Until they pile up too high, and that’s all you can see.”

  “Is that what happened with your mother?” Kirsten watched Rusty walk over to the window.

  “No,” Rusty said somberly. “She could never make that mountain big enough to make me completely hate her, but life would’ve been easier if I could have. I wish I could find the chip inside me that made me crave her approval and destroy it. She’s dead now, and I still feel the need to impress her.”

  “I guess that’s why she figures predominately in your dream.” Kirsten sank down wearily on her sofa, exhausted from her emotional purge.

  “Isn’t it sad that I’m almost forty, and I have mommy issues?”

  “I think everyone wrestles with something a parent did or didn’t do. Even the parents that try to do everything just right screw up because they’re human. Tell me one sweet memory you have of your mother.”

  Rusty had to think on the answer a long time. “I was walking home from school one day with friends…I think I might’ve been in the sixth grade. I don’t know why she did it, but one of the girls karate-kicked a trash can, and stuff spilled out all over the place. We all ran, but I knew someone probably saw what happened, and it would get back to my mother, so I went back and picked up the trash. The woman that owned the house came out, and even though I was cleaning up, she went off on me. I picked it all up, and I just walked away. That night, the woman came to our house right after Mom got home from work and met her in the driveway. She told Mom that I’d kicked her can over and didn’t mention that I had cleaned everything up. The lady that lived next door to us and kept an eye on me rushed to my defense and said she saw and heard everything that happened and recounted everything the woman said to me.”

  Rusty laughed softly. “Mom grabbed that woman by the shirt and tossed her into the street like a rag doll, and she told her if she ever spoke to me again like that, she’d be stuffed in a trash can.”

  Kirsten’s brow rose. “I was thinking of something along the lines of a bedtime s
tory being read, maybe a well-placed Band-Aid.”

  “Oh, no.” Rusty shook her head and turned away from the window. “Justine Martinez did not do bedtime stories and kisses good night. Bonding time was spent teaching me how to balance a checkbook when I was twelve or how to iron the perfect crease in a pair of pants. She kissed me once, and that was when I fell out of a tree and didn’t die.”

  Kirsten remembered being showered with so much affection from her mother it was embarrassing. She hated to miss the bus because that meant Mona would drive her to school, and right in the parking lot in front of everyone, Mona would smear her cheeks with lipstick kisses. It was humiliating for a teenager, especially when Mona would roll down her window and yell, “I love you” a dozen times as Kirsten fled in horror.

  “Why didn’t you go to college? Your financial situation probably would’ve afforded you a boatload of assistance.”

  Rusty’s brow furrowed. “What makes you think I didn’t?”

  “I read an article about you in some Baton Rouge business magazine. It said you started Smart Shopper literally out of the back of your car at eighteen. You shopped for elderly neighbors who couldn’t do it for themselves, and that’s where the idea was born.”

  “I didn’t have the time for school. I saw an untapped market. There weren’t any shopping services in Baton Rouge. Word of mouth took off so fast, I couldn’t keep up with the load alone. I’d gone to high school with Neil. He was a nerd but smart and trustworthy, and most importantly, he had a car. He was going to LSU then, but between classes, he helped make the deliveries. People paid us for what we picked up, a delivery charge, and tips. We mainly serviced the elderly, but the money started flowing when I started going door to door with fliers in neighborhoods full of young families. Business boomed again, and I needed more people, cars, and better organization, and I didn’t have the capital for that.”

  Rusty walked over to a chair near Kirsten and sat. “Neil’s dad owned his own company, and he was really impressed with what we were doing. So he told me to draw up a business plan. Neil and I worked on it for a week, and after his dad took a look at it, he gave us a loan.” Rusty smiled. “We paid it back in the first year. Of course, I ate soup every meal to make that happen, but we did it. Smart Shopper skyrocketed after that.”

  “That’s extremely impressive,” Kirsten said with a nod.

  “I have to credit my mom with most of my success. She taught me a strong work ethic and to never give up. The problem is, I feel like I’ve given up by coming here. I faced a problem, and instead of dealing with it, I retreated.”

  “Could you possibly change your perspective on that?” Kirsten sat up straight. “You’re not a robot, you can’t just work nonstop without physical repercussions. Sometimes, you have to take a break and reevaluate what’s important, and I don’t think you ever allow yourself to do that.”

  Rusty laughed. “That’s your way of saying I needed a vacation.”

  “No, what I’m saying is, you’ve been fighting for success all your adult life. Maybe that’s why you act like a dick.” Kirsten shrugged. “I’m just spitballing. Your mom wasn’t affectionate, but it sounds like she knew how to get things done, and you employ those tactics sometimes. That still doesn’t make you her. But if after this time of personal evaluation, you go back and behave the same way…you might be a dick. That may kill you because the constant war has already taken a toll on your body. What do you do to relax?”

  “I used to have a couple of vodka tonics, then I went to sleep.” Rusty smacked her lips. “I thought that worked out pretty well, but my doctor says no.”

  “Tomorrow is Saturday, and I usually take my boat out early in the morning. It’s pretty and peaceful, very relaxing. I just clear my mind and relax. You should come with me.”

  “How early are we talking?”

  Kirsten smiled. “I leave the dock just before sunrise.”

  Rusty stood. “If I’m going to do that, I should go home now. Thank you for dinner and giving me a lot to mentally process.”

  Kirsten got up too, and followed Rusty to the door. “I do feel better after getting a few things off my chest. Thanks for listening.”

  “Hey, and thank you for not making me role-play,” Rusty said as she stepped outside.

  “I was prepared to, but you opened up, and I didn’t see the sense in pushing you.”

  Rusty stared at Kirsten for a second and whispered, “Opened.” Her gaze darted back and forth for a moment. “I have to go to sleep right now.”

  Kirsten was stunned as she watched Rusty race down the stairs and jog to her car. “Well, good night.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I talked! I opened, and that’s how I got all of this,” Rusty said as she took in the dreamscape around her. Sprigs of grass were shooting up through the ash. Bright green leaves were sprouting on the branches of the trees above her. She waited anxiously for Justine to show and see what she had done.

  The familiar figure didn’t manifest in the fog. “Where’re you at, Mom? Come see what I did. I made something happen.”

  Justine didn’t show, and irritation rose within Rusty the longer she waited. “Oh,” she said loudly with a sardonic laugh. “You’re not going to show up because you’ll be forced to admit that I finally did something right. You only want to be here when you have a reason to chastise me.”

  “I’m proud of you.”

  Rusty whirled around and found Neil back in the house with his chair. He was sitting in it with one leg thrown over an arm. “That’s great, Neil, thanks, but I’m waiting on her to show up and acknowledge what I’ve done.”

  “Why can’t you be happy in your own accomplishment?”

  “I am, but she needs to see it too.”

  “But she won’t,” Neil said in that placating tone that made Rusty’s skin crawl. “She won’t see it, you have to accept that.”

  “I don’t have to accept shit. It pisses me off to no end that she didn’t come here today. This is just like her. She can’t let me have one victory. I can’t win with her.” Rusty threw her hands up. “Who treats their kid like that? She’s supposed to love me and want what’s best for me.”

  “If you’re a success, then you won’t need her anymore. Perhaps that’s why she didn’t come.” Neil shrugged and sounded just like Kirsten did when he said, “I’m just spitballing here.”

  “Have you been talking to Kirsten?”

  “How can I, we haven’t even met yet? I like what you did with the bridge,” Neil said and pointed at it.

  All of Rusty’s focus was on the greenery, she didn’t notice that the bridge she’d given Stella was right beside his chair. “I didn’t do that. Who puts a bridge in a kitchen?”

  Neil looked around. “I think this is the living room. That’s what it looks like to me anyway. Come in and tell me what you think.”

  Rusty tried to take a step but couldn’t move. “I’m stuck.” She looked down at her feet.

  “It’s because you don’t love yourself. What you see inside makes you sad.”

  “What?” Rusty asked as her anger flared again. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Neil leaned his head back against the chair. “There’s so much space in here, it’s all just waiting to be filled up.”

  “Oh, no, don’t you start talking in riddles like Mom does. You’re the one person aside from Kirsten that gives it to me straight. Lay it out, Neil.”

  “Do you ever wonder what’s in her house?”

  “I don’t have to, I’ve been in it. I liked all the windows and the open floor plan between the kitchen and den. I think she could’ve done a better job with the furniture, though. Nothing matches. Her things look like she picked them up at a secondhand store.” Rusty shuddered. “I hate those places. You just don’t know how the people that owned that stuff lived. Some nasty slob who never bathed could’ve donated Kirsten’s chair. I wonder if she’s ever thought about that. I should tell her in case she hasn’t deep
cleaned. Her place did have a homey feel to it, though. I think she probably had more to do with that than the house itself. She’s a nice person, and I think she’s probably very genuine.” Rusty sighed happily as she gazed up at a tree. “Look at my leaves, Neil, there’s a lot of them.”

  “There could be more.”

  Rusty turned and found Justine standing nearby. “I’ve got grass growing, leaves on my trees, I’m making things happen. You have to admit that.”

  “What about that?” Justine pointed to the house. “There’s only Neil inside, and you have so many empty rooms.”

  “No.” Rusty shook her head. “You’re not going to take this victory from me. Look at what I’ve done. Tell me you see it.”

  “What I see is a lot of work still left to do. I won’t praise you for a job that’s only halfway complete.”

  Rusty stomped her foot. “Acknowledge the progress then!”

  “You be happy if you want to,” Justine said nonchalantly. “If that satisfies you.”

  “I am happy, and you know why? Because it’s killing you that I did something right.”

  Justine’s lips parted, but it wasn’t her voice that Rusty heard. “Clouds will roll in later this afternoon bringing a chance of rain to our area. Today’s high is ninety-two with overnight temps in the mid-seventies.”

  Rusty sat up and slapped at the clock radio beside her bed. “Thanks for the weather report, Justine,” she snapped as she climbed out of bed.

  *******

  Kirsten was already in her boat and ready to go when she saw Rusty pull up and get out of her car. She was happy to see her and looked forward to sharing something she enjoyed. Kirsten had also packed up a few fishing rods in case Rusty wanted to try her luck.

  “Good morning, I brought—”

  “She refused to look at my leaves. Neil said she wouldn’t, but I thought once she showed up, she’d have to at least acknowledge what I had done. I have grass growing, buds on branches, I have greenery everywhere!” Rusty stomped onto the deck. “She just pointed at the unfinished house and griped that it wasn’t finished. How do I get in here?”

 

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