Speed of Life

by J. M. Kelly

  “Han. Han. Han,” Natalie babbles, smiling up at him.

  “Did you hear that?” he asks. “She obviously loves me more than she loves you. I haven’t heard her say Amber or Crystal.”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  “You buy her so much crap,” Amber says. “That’s why she likes you.”

  “I only get her good stuff. Don’t I, Nattie? I get you the most awesomest things ever, don’t I?” She grins at him and pulls his hair until he squawks. “Hey! Let go, let go!”

  We all laugh. I think I might actually miss Han once we’re gone. He’s kind of grown on me over the last year.

  One steaming hot day about a week before we’re supposed to leave, we’re all out in the yard together. I offer a lick of cherry Popsicle to Natalie. She’s whining in frustration and trying to peel my fingers off the stick so she can hold it. When I don’t let go, she screeches at me and bangs her feet into my side, but I don’t give in. I know she’ll just drop it, and Bonehead’s eaten enough Popsicles this week already. He’s hovering, on full alert.

  “I was thinking,” Amber says. “Maybe I could come home for Thanksgiving.”

  “You want to come back that soon?”

  “I’m gonna miss everyone. If I have something to look forward to . . .”

  I’m about to tell her I’m not sure we can afford it when Bonehead lunges forward and snags the Popsicle out of my hand. Then Nat’s screaming and Amber’s doubled over laughing, and I’m chasing Bonehead, hoping to get the stick before he chomps it to pieces and chokes on it. Neither one of us brings up Thanksgiving again, but it hangs over us like a rain cloud.

  The next week is made up of a bunch of “lasts.” The Friday before we leave is the last time Nat goes to daycare. The weird thing is that she seems to know it, and when Mei-Zhen hugs her goodbye, she clings to her and cries when I take her.

  “That was weird,” Amber says when we get out to the car.

  “Totally. I didn’t even know she liked Mei-Zhen.”

  “I think she’s nicer to the babies than she is to the moms.”

  “Probably.”

  Han takes us out to dinner that night, which he jokingly refers to as the “last supper.” Me and Amber roll our eyes, but we’ve gotten used to his goofiness. He pretty much ignores us the whole time anyway, talking to and feeding Natalie, squeezing her toes to make her laugh, and holding her in his lap while we eat.

  Sunday is Amber’s last night at the Glass Slipper, and Aunt Ruby invites us to hang out after the bar closes for a little family goodbye. I don’t really want to go, but honestly, I’m afraid to skip it. Jade’s going to be there, and I know she’s been trying to talk Amber into staying in Portland.

  Around ten o’clock, I take Natalie over to Jade’s. Her boyfriend, Teddy, is watching her girls and said it was okay if we leave Nat there too. I don’t know him, but Amber swears he’s a good guy. I give him a whole bunch of instructions in case Natalie wakes up. She’ll probably sleep, but I leave Teddy two bottles, strained carrots, diapers, and toys.

  After ten minutes of tapping her foot, Jade drags me out to the car. “He knows what he’s doing. He hasn’t killed my kids yet.”

  “A ringing endorsement,” I say.

  Teddy waves from the porch, smiling. I have to admit, he seems pretty responsible. In fact, it’s like he’s a grownup. He’s got to be close to thirty, and he has a real job with the phone company. His car is a spotless and boring 2007 Toyota Corolla, which reassures me because it probably means he’s a little boring too.

  I’m determined to get along with Jade tonight for Amber’s sake. It’s not like we hate each other, but we have never really liked each other, either. Once we’re in the car, I say, “Your hair looks cool.”

  “Thanks.” She’s cropped it really short and spiked it up. I’m pretty sure the dark brown shade is natural, too, but I haven’t seen her real color since we were kids. “After that red dye job it was pretty brittle, so I decided to start over.”

  “It looks good.”

  We’re almost to the Glass Slipper when Jade says, “You know, Amber doesn’t want to go to Kansas.”

  I get that familiar sinking feeling in my stomach that I’ve had for weeks every time I look at my sister. “Only because you keep telling her it’s a bad idea.”

  “It is.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  I slide into a parking spot and kill the engine.

  “Maybe not for you, but it is for her. She likes her job, and she was totally committed to your ‘plan,’ if you remember.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. “Look, Jade, can you just let us do this? Please? We’ve worked it out, and the last thing I need three days before we leave is you giving her doubts.”

  She opens the car door. “She’s already got them. And if you cared about anyone besides yourself, you’d know that.”

  Inside, the bar’s still open, so I hang out in the dish room with Amber. Jade’s twenty-one, though, and she goes off to play darts with a couple of regulars. Amber’s wearing rubber gloves and has her hands deep in a sink full of soapy water.

  She looks up at me, her eyes big and sad. “These are the last pots I’m ever gonna scrub here.”

  “If it was me, I’d be happy about that.”

  She gives me a fake smile. Is Jade right? Is Amber only doing this for me? When we’d first talked about getting our apartment in McPherson, she’d sounded totally committed, like once she’d decided to go, she thought it would be exciting, but lately . . . well, I’m not so sure.

  I try to cover my worry with cheerfulness. “So what’s the plan for tonight?”

  Amber shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess Brad’s gonna make all my favorite foods—​veggie burgers and onion rings, cheesecake—​and we’re all going to hang out.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “Yeah.”

  Okay, kill us now. That would lighten the mood in here. My stomach tightens into that familiar knot.

  “Hey, chickens,” Aunt Ruby says, sticking her head through the dish window. “It’s totally dead out here tonight, so I’m closing early. Finish up and let’s party!”

  I pull on an apron and help Amber with the last of the pots and pans. I try to get her to talk about our road trip, but she barely answers. I start thinking maybe we should leave for Kansas tomorrow instead of Wednesday. The sooner I get her out of here, the better.

  Half an hour later, we’re all sitting around a table piled with food. The weird thing is, Brad’s the only one drinking alcohol.

  “You can have a beer,” I tell Jade and Amber. “I’m driving.”

  “That’s okay,” Amber says. “I’m not up for one, and Jade doesn’t drink anymore.”

  I look over at my cousin. “Really?”

  “Don’t act so surprised,” Jade says. “You hardly know me.”

  That’s true. Still, out of all my cousins, she’s always been the biggest partier.

  We’re a sad little group, and I tell myself it’s because we’re all going to miss each other, nothing more than that. Amber picks at her food but doesn’t eat much, and I don’t either. The knot in my stomach makes it impossible.

  After about an hour of small talk, Aunt Ruby takes out two envelopes. “One for Crystal. And one for Amber.”

  “You go first,” Amber tells me.

  Inside is a check for five hundred dollars. I look at Aunt Ruby. “Seriously?”

  “College is expensive. I’m sure you can use it.”

  “Wow. This is amazing. Thank you so much.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I’m thinking this will buy a lot of gas on the road.

  “Now you, Ambie Pambie,” Aunt Ruby says.

  Amber’s envelope is a lot thicker than mine, and when she opens it, she pulls out some papers stapled together in the corner. We all wait while she scans them. And then her face breaks into the biggest, widest smile I’ve ever seen.

  “Is this for real?” she asks Aunt Ruby.

  “Yep.”


  “Oh my God!” Amber jumps up and throws her arms around our aunt. “Thank you so much. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!”

  “What is it?” Jade asks.

  “Aunt Ruby’s given me ten percent of the Glass Slipper!” Amber says. Tears are streaming down her face, and she’s bouncing around the table like gravity can’t hold her.

  The knot in my stomach cinches even tighter. “What do you mean? You’re a partner now? But we—”

  “Don’t worry, Crystal,” Aunt Ruby says. “I just wanted to give her something to look forward to in four years. I’m not asking her to stay.”

  I relax a tiny bit, but after this gift, Wednesday can’t come soon enough.

  Chapter 24

  There’s a cruise-in at Mikey’s Diner the next day, and when I ask Amber to come along, she says, “That’s one ‘last’ I can live without.” I drop her at the salon where Jade works. It’s closed on Mondays, but she’s going to give Amber a trim.

  “Don’t let her dye your hair blue.”

  “As if.”

  Me and Nat go to Mikey’s and a bunch of the hot rodders surprise me with a card and a wad of cash they’ve collected. A big meaty guy who goes by the name of Stick wraps his thick arm around my shoulder. “Do us proud at that school, Crystal. And then come back here and fix up the dings in Jack’s car. It’s a mess.”

  We all laugh because Jack has the nicest ride of any of us, a low-to-the-ground ’33 Ford Victoria, all black, all the time. And everyone knows, if you’re painting a car black, the body has to be perfectly straight or any flaws will show. His car is gorgeous.

  I have to admit, I’m a little teary when it’s time to go. Ever since I got my license, I’ve been meeting up with these guys to show off our cars and talk mechanics and body work. Most of them are grandpas, and they tell me they wish they had granddaughters like me. I’m gonna miss them all.

  We swing by Jade’s house to pick up Amber, and she meets me on the porch and says she’s staying over. I want to talk her out of it, but I don’t try. I know she’s going to miss Jade. Instead, me and Nat leave her there, and I try not to think about the ten percent of Aunt Ruby’s business that’s now Amber’s, or what Jade might be telling her.

  It’s hot tonight and Natalie’s fussy, so I drive around for a little bit with all the windows down, but then I go home because I know Bonehead will start barking if someone doesn’t feed him soon. Plus I need to get Natalie into her crib.

  It’s stifling in our bedroom and I feel sorry for Nat. Her skin’s damp from the heat and she’s got a rash between her thighs. I put some cream on her legs and leave her to sleep in a diaper. I’ll put a light blanket over her later. Outside, I stand in the darkness, watching Bonehead eat.

  “It’s no big deal Amber is staying at Jade’s, right?” I ask the dog. He snuffles into his food bowl, making a wet sucking sound as he inhales his dinner.

  Gross.

  I find Mom in the kitchen doing a crossword. I look around for something to eat besides the day-old doughnuts on the table next to her dirty coffee cup, but I can’t find anything. “What’re you doing home, anyway?” I ask.

  “Even your old lady gets a night off from the chain gang.”

  “Oh, right.”

  She must be broke or she’d be at bingo. I disappear into our bedroom quick before she can hit me up for money. It’s still so hot in here, I have to do something or me and Nat will suffocate. I go out to my car and get the toolkit Jimmy gave me for graduation. What I really need are bolt cutters, but there aren’t any. Instead, I take a sledgehammer to the padlock Gil used to lock the overhead door when he turned the garage into our bedroom.

  I’m standing outside in the driveway, bashing at it with all my worry over what Jade’s telling Amber in every blow. It only takes about six good whacks before Mr. Hendricks is screaming at me from his porch to shut the hell up, and I can hear Natalie crying inside. Maybe this wasn’t my best idea ever, but I’ve almost got it now. I give the lock one more hard thwack, it crumbles, and I’m able to get the chain free. I lift the creaky door for the first time in years, and it squeals, making Bonehead whine. Natalie’s standing in her crib, her face pink and tears snaking down her cheeks.

  “Sorry, baby,” I say. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She stares at me with those huge blue eyes like I made her cry on purpose.

  “I said I was sorry.”

  I look around at the mess I’ve made. I really didn’t think this whole thing through. When I lifted the garage door, my mattress got showered with crud, dead bugs, and dirt. I don’t have any other sheets and I’m too grossed out to just shake them. I’ll have to sleep in Amber’s bed tonight.

  After I get Nat to lie back down and I stroke her hair until she falls asleep again, I put on a pair of shorts and a tank-top and climb under Amber’s sheet. Streetlight and fresh air drift in, giving the usually pitch-black room a surreal feeling. I can’t fall asleep, though, and after a while I decide it’s because I’m too freaked out that someone might walk in and attack me and Nat. It’s not the best neighborhood, after all. I get up and let Bonehead off his chain.

  “You can sleep on my bed,” I say, patting it, and he jumps right up like he owns it. I should probably figure out a way to tie him up—​I don’t want him to run away. But he looks so happy to be inside that I leave him alone. He scratches, turns around and around in a circle, and then curls himself into a tiny ball. Pretty amazing considering the size of him.

  I lie awake for a long time in my sister’s bed, missing her. I don’t sleep much. That familiar pain has come back in my stomach. I curl up, almost as small as Bonehead on the other bed. It eases the stabbing in my gut a little, and after a while, I guess I drift off.

  Tuesday’s my last day at Jimmy’s, and technically I’m not even working. I leave Natalie with Gil and go in to say goodbye and fill my tank. When I try to pay for the gas, Jimmy shakes me off. I hope no one tells Betty. I stand around for a few minutes, talking to Rosa and killing time until David’s lunch break. I already know what route me and Amber are taking to Kansas, but he wants to show me some other road he says is way cooler.

  “I got you a sandwich on my way in to work,” he says after he punches the time clock.

  He’s a good man. His girlfriend’s lucky to have him. We go to the break room and sit next to each other instead of across the table like usual. I unwrap my veggie delight sub while he opens a road atlas and spreads it out in front of us.

  He points to the interstate on the map. “Don’t tell me you’re taking I-Eighty-Four?”

  “Yep,” I say. “East to Salt Lake City, on to Denver, and a straight shot to Kansas from there.”

  “Snoozefest. You should go south to Sacramento, then take Highway Fifty across Nevada.”

  I shake my head. “That’ll burn a lot more gas. Some of us aren’t made of money. And I don’t have air conditioning, either. Remember?”

  “Chick-ennnn,” he says, drawing out the last syllable and grinning.

  “Yeah, I’d like to see you do it, Stanford Boy. ‘Oh, my white polo shirt has perspiration stains!’ ”

  “I’m telling you, you’re missing the most awesome road in the entire United States. Highway Fifty’s flat, straight, no cops. It’s what the Mustang was made for.”

  “Maybe. But most of them don’t have a baby in the back seat.”

  He tilts his chair back, shaking his head. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.”

  “Good thing I’m the one driving, then.”

  “Someday, College Girl . . . promise me someday you’ll go that way.”

  “I promise.”

  We shake on it. And then I scarf my sandwich down and get the hell out before one of us tears up. I go to Big Apple Pizza to find Amber, but Tom tells me she called in sick for her last day. I swing by the house and pick up Natalie from Mom. Amber’s not there, so I run over to Jade’s, but no one’s there, either. I think about going to the salon and telling Jade to butt o
ut, but I don’t want to make a scene where she works. She pisses me off, but her kids need to eat, and I get the feeling she’s always on the edge of being fired for one thing or another, so I let it go for now.

  Besides, I have something else I need to do. This morning, while Mom and Gil were sleeping, I managed to snag some money from them by going through their pockets. I know they’ll never miss it. They can’t keep track of what they have. I take the cash over to the landlord and tell him good luck, he’s on his own from now on.

  He says his woman left him anyway, so no one’s nagging him to collect rent, but not to tell Gil and Mom. I promise him I won’t. I don’t know much about the guy, but he and Gil were in the army together and served in Afghanistan, so I guess that’s the real reason he doesn’t kick us out.

  “If I get enough out of them to pay the property taxes every year,” he says, “then that’s all I care about. The house is a piece of shit anyway, and Gil’s a real friend.”

  I’m kind of surprised to hear this, since I don’t think they ever see each other, but it makes sense that they have a history. Anyone else would’ve evicted us a long time ago.

  “Yeah, okay,” I say. “Well . . . good luck.”

  “You too, Crystal.”

  I stop by the Glass Slipper on my way home, but according to Aunt Ruby there’s been no sign of Amber. “Haven’t seen her, chickadee,” she says. “But give your old aunt a hug goodbye.”

  Later, I’m sitting at the table with Mom when the phone rings. It has to be Amber. Finally! I run out to the living room and grab the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Crys. It’s me.”

  “Am, where are you?”

  “I went to the beach for the day with Jade and Teddy and the kids.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Sorry. I stopped by the house, but no one was home.”

  “You couldn’t have left a note?”

  “We were in a hurry. I didn’t think it mattered.”

  “Well, are you coming home now?”