Unsteady

by Elizabeth York

  “Lisa, this is Sister Katherine, she saved whatever skin is left on my ass from the priest’s belt while I was in school.”

  “Don’t curse,” she scolded me, as Lisa walked down and got on the other side of her and helped me walk her up the stairs.

  “Yes ma’am,” I replied, suddenly feeling like an eight-year-old all over again. Sister Katherine looked between Lisa and I as if figuring out a riddle, then she just nodded.

  “It is lovely to meet you, Lisa,” Sister Katherine gave her that same warm smile she gave to every child whose parents had abandoned them at the school.

  “Sister Katherine you are more than welcome to join us for dinner if you and Logan would like,” Lisa gave me a knowing wink that said she knew I had no food in the apartment because I was always in the sky.

  “No, I appreciate the offer, but I am only here long enough to talk to Logan,” Sister Katherine’s deep green eyes looked dejected, so I took a step to the side and made her look at me.

  “Talk to me?” I questioned as she took my hand in hers. “What is it?” Sister Katherine looked inquisitively at Lisa as if she was the missing the obvious four-letter word on a crossword puzzle, but I refused to break my gaze. “Just tell me. Lisa knows everything about me.”

  “Even London?” Sister Katherine asked, and my blood turned cold, as rage lit a fire in my belly and reheated my veins, allowing the contrasting pain to flourish every inch of me. I had to force myself not to clench my fist with her holding my hand.

  “I know about him going to school in London,” Lisa spoke softly with a smile. If only she knew that wasn’t the London Sister Katherine was referring to. It was the noun game all over again. It started when London left and anytime people were talking about her, they changed her name to be anything except a person. They made her into a place, a thing, an idea, and on the rare occasion that they got specific she became a tree.

  “How did you know I was still here?” I questioned as the stun of seeing her wore off and a dire need to change the subject arose.

  “I have always known how to find you,” she answered as she always did when she caught me as a little boy outside the garden walls.

  “You don’t fly,” I spoke my thoughts out loud. “The last time you flew it was for Father Ryan’s funeral. Who died?”

  “No one.”

  “Did something happen to London?” I asked as my anger compounded with a strange form of panic or maybe it was fear. I didn’t know what had happened, but I felt violently sick all of a sudden.

  “No, I’m here because Mr. Keenan is ill,” Sister Katherine stated as I tilted my head and breathed through her words. My father meant nothing to me and it didn’t take a second for the trepidation to pass. I let the information travel through my ears and then took my hands back from her to turn and put my key in my door as if I hadn’t heard a thing.

  “It’s good to see you Sister,” I finally looked over my shoulder and gave her a softened smiled, but I kept my back to her to ignore that perturbed look on her face. “You could have called and saved yourself the trip.”

  “He’s physically sick, the doctors said his heart is failing and he could pass away soon. I knew you wouldn’t listen on the phone, so I came to talk you into going home in person,” Sister Katherine explained as I turned just in time for Lisa to lunge at me with tears in her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry,” Lisa rasped the words out and I shook my head.

  “I am not going to sit at the Devil’s bedside and watch my own fate happen before me,” I spoke up as I pushed Lisa away from me.

  As a child, I used to feel angry at my father, but since I aged I realized he wasn’t worth the increase in my blood pressure. It wasn’t lost on me that I couldn’t feel anything except rage at London for leaving me, but when it came to my dad I couldn’t find the energy to be vexed. I closed my eyes trying to feel something for him. Anything that would appease Sister Katherine, but instead, London’s face flashed through my mind and the fury came rushing back like a dwindling fire finding oxygen and engulfed me.

  “Logan, he’s dying -,” Sister Katherine tried her best to make me comprehend this would be the last time I saw him. The last time I could make amends. I understood perfectly. I just didn’t care.

  “Good, it’s about time he went to hell,” I hoarsely spoke as I opened my eyes and forced the memory of my childhood to fade. I swallowed everything I felt when I saw Sister Katherine’s reddened eyes. I took her into my arms as tears stained her cheeks and let her fall on me. I felt nothing for him. At the most, my heart felt as heavy as the tears falling down Sister Katherine’s cheeks, but it wasn’t for my father. The only sympathy I felt was for everyone else that was losing the man that I lost at the age of six.

  “Logan,” Sister Katherine sniffled, but she knew what my dad was like and nothing she could say now would change my opinion.

  “Please, stay for dinner,” I rhetorically asked Sister Katherine. I was hopeful for a subject change, and she complied. Thankfully, the rest of the night was spent without discussing my family.

  “Logan,” I heard my name accompanied by a knock on my door. I was exhausted. Last night’s dinner with Lisa and Katherine had made me three hours late for my date which meant I didn’t have claw marks down my back until dawn. Rolling onto my side, staring at my clock, I knew I had just climbed into bed a little over an hour ago and had to leave for the airport in two hours.

  When the banging sounded again I forced myself out of my comfortable king-sized four poster bed with a groan and put on a black terry-cloth robe as she pounded again with her tiny fists.

  “Good morning, Ada,” I forced a smile through a yawn. I should’ve gone to sleep earlier, but with the news I got about my dad I wanted to distract my mind with a tasty blonde treat. I shook my thoughts and looked down to see Ada as she stood there with her hands on her hips.

  “I want to see the magic trick,” she demanded as I stepped out of her way and allowed her into my apartment. I closed the door, walked over, and hit start on the coffee pot since I needed to wake up.

  “What magic trick?”

  “The one mommy says you do,” she continued as she rambled on. “Mommy also said you are going to England. Is that where the Queen lives? Do you have to drink tea there? Do they speak English? Do they have kids like me? Do they have Jell-O?”

  “Slow down there, high speed,” I pleaded with her to pump the brakes on her questions while I waited to be caffeinated. “One question at a time, please.” She looked annoyed as her huffs carried the message that she was impatient this morning. I couldn’t help but smile. It was finally obvious to see my influence on her. She was truly a mini-me.

  “Is it true that you have brown hair and brown eyes because you are full of poo?”

  “No,” I answered, wondering where she had heard that.

  “Did you finish gardening?” Ada asked, and I felt like I had entered another dimension as I poured what little bit of coffee had brewed into a cup. I sighed and then took a huge drink in hopes of keeping up with her.

  “Ada, does it look like I have a garden?” I sarcastically asked.

  “No, but mom says every morning you put a hoe out,” she explained, and I tried not to laugh.

  “I don’t think that is what your mom meant,” I assured her, but would never tell her that her mother was talking about women.

  “Can I see the magic trick, now?”

  “What trick?” I inquired completely baffled as I sipped my coffee. I felt like I had missed a step somewhere.

  “Where you pull your head out of your donkey?” She asked, and my brows dropped as my forehead creased. I had no clue what she was talking about.

  “What?”

  “Mommy said it would be magical if you would pull your head out of your ass before you go to say goodbye to your dad,” Ada continued, and I spit my coffee across the counter.

  “Tell you what, sugarplum. Why don’t you run next door and ask your mommy -,” I paused. I
really wanted to send a message through her daughter, but at the same time, I didn’t want Ada to think less of me.

  Guess I found a boundary I wouldn’t cross.

  I picked up my wallet off the counter and took out some money. “Ask your mommy if she will pick up some steaks and watch over Sister Katherine when she comes by until I fly back tonight. I promise it’s just a day trip.”

  When Ada ran towards the door I sat back down and felt like I had run a marathon. Trying to keep up with her was something I struggled with, especially when the conversation left me drained.

  “Logan,” Sister Katherine called my name as Ada held the door open. I waved her in and she walked in and sat my old bible on the table.

  “You’re up early this morning,” I welcomed her into the house and made her a cup of coffee.

  “I need to know if you will you reconsider coming with me?”

  “There is nothing in London for me. Not anymore,” I explained as we sat at my kitchen table and sipped our coffee. “I can request a flight and take you back myself if you prefer, but everything I ever grew to regret happened over there and I don’t want to live through that again. No memory lane, no remorse, no looking back.”

  “Logan,” Sister Katherine walked over and put her hands on my cheeks to force me to listen to her. “I’m going to stay a bit longer than I planned just in case you want to talk or change your mind. Take a couple of days to think it over. You have to remember we are all flawed in some way. He became an absent parent while trying to cope with the loss of your mom. He’s not asking you to do anything except allow him to say goodbye.”

  “Do you think he deserves my presence?” I scoffed, knowing she wouldn’t answer. “He said goodbye when he dropped me off on your doorstep with two pairs of pants in a green suitcase, still wearing my gray suit from my mom’s funeral. He told me to get out of the car and go make a life for myself at six. When he drove off he never looked back,” I informed her as she sat back down in her seat.

  “Have you forgotten everything I taught you about forgiveness?”

  “No Sister, I haven’t, but I only have enough in me for one transgression of that magnitude right now and he had thousands.”

  “Then you could forgive someone who did only one thing wrong?” She probed and I nodded. “Like London? She only did one thing wrong, so could you forgive her if you saw her again?” Sister Katherine asked a loaded question. It was like playing Russian roulette with my manhood. No matter the answer someone else would have my balls for being able to forgive one and not the other.

  One part of me said to forget London, I was better off without her. I had the best part of her, and now I was glad I didn’t know her. One part of me grew more bitter with each day that had passed. A tiny part of me hoped she had felt the same pain she had unleashed on me, but then there was this one part of me that questioned how she was, what she was doing now, and I wondered why she left like she did.

  “No, I can’t. I don’t think I will ever be able to forgive her,” I truthfully answered.

  “My sweet child,” Sister Katherine rasped out. “You carry all this negativity around with you. You are filled with guilt that isn’t yours. You need to pray and ask for guidance. You need to find a way to let it go.”

  “I have found ways to cope,” I replied. “I have money,and a job I love. I have an apartment that is everything I ever wanted and neighbors who take care of it when I’m away. I also have a different girl on my arm every couple of days, just long enough to date, but not long enough either of us could get hurt. What else could I need?”

  “To be able to let go of the darkness and forgive others.”

  “Have you seen her since she left?” I asked about London as I breathed through the immature need to flip the table in anger.

  “I have.”

  “Is she – how is – you know what, never mind,” I picked up my coffee and swallowed it down quickly. “I need to shower and get ready for work. Lisa is going to be here today if you wanted to spend the day with her and Ada.”

  “I would love that.”

  Chapter Two

  London

  “You ready for work?” My sister Brooklyn pried as she rubbed her swollen belly through her navy maternity dress.

  “Almost,” I smiled at her as I shoved folders into a messenger bag. Then I walked in front of her mirror to make sure my black blazer and tank top looked clean and professional over my jeans. I caught Brooklyn out of the corner of the mirror as she turned and poured coffee into a stainless-steel mug for me. I busted out laughing as she held the lid off the top, inhaled the smell, closed her eyes, and lightly moaned.

  “It’s not funny,” she responded, as her husband, Mark walked out of the bedroom and saw what I was giggling at. They were both dressed for work, but when I looked at the clock they were already late.

  “They have meetings for that kind of addiction,” he snickered and gave me a wink.

  “If you hadn’t let your one-eyed monster spit in me I wouldn’t have to go without,” Brooklyn leveled him with a narrowed eye glare. He smiled a little bigger as he tried to hide his laughter. “You know if you weren’t so sexy, and I wasn’t having a miniature you soon, I would be eating a pound of bacon with ten cups of coffee every morning.”

  “You’re adorable when you try to be angry,” Mark chuckled, and I laughed as her scowl turned into a smile.

  “I just want one cup,” she whined as I walked over and took the mug from her.

  “Birth control is 99.9% effective,” I sarcastically stated, as Mark tried to hide his sly grin.

  “That doesn’t hold up when your husband wants to play D&D,” Brooklyn sneered in Mark’s direction as I walked to the other side of the living room where it was safer.

  “You got knocked up playing Dungeons and Dragons?” I questioned, as I hid my chuckle. Brooklyn rolled her eyes at me in response.

  “No, it’s called dirty and delectable.”

  “I don’t want any further details,” I turned away trying to scrub those two words from my brain.

  I was still getting used to her emotional rollercoaster of hormones. Some mornings, she was my sister, the bad ass prosecutor who took down a serial killer and could handle anything. Other mornings, like today, she was an exhausted mess of whines, moans, and occasional sobs.

  Six months ago, she gave up every vice she had, from fattening cheesecake to coffee. She didn’t want to do anything that might taint the baby. Mark and I tried to reason with her, but it wasn’t possible. She was the lawyer in the family and no matter what we said she had a rebuttal.

  I didn’t push it any further than Mark did because when I was little I could remember thinking the same thing. My memory bank was filled with life plans where I wouldn’t have kids that would be anything like our parents, especially our dad.

  My beautiful sister truly believed if she caved and had what she truly wanted then the baby would turn out like our father and indulge in everything, but she believed if she fought the dark side that was filled with chocolate and coffee then the baby would turn out like Mark.

  “I have to go,” I stated, as I slid on my ballet flats, pushed my black hair off my shoulder, and went to the door. I turned back when she didn’t respond, to see Mark already had Brooklyn wrapped up in his arms, placing little kisses on her neck. I rolled my eyes and walked out the door. I hit the button for the elevator and climbed in when it arrived. After I rode down the five floors I walked out of the apartment building where the new doorman was waiting with a cab door open for me.

  “The Ace Hotel on West 29th Street please,” I told the cab driver as he pulled away from the curb. Then I picked up my phone and sent a text.

  “ETA fifteen minutes.”

  When the cab pulled up, I tossed the driver some money and climbed out realizing I was missing something. My coffee mug - I must have left it in the apartment. I walked across the concrete sidewalk and headed inside the two-toned brown brick hotel. It was one of the f
ew hotels that didn’t try to kiss the sky, which kept the traffic down so that I could get in and out without an issue.

  I stopped off at the lobby mirror and checked my long raven hair to ensure my layers still had a little volume after meeting the humidity that was always present in New York during the early stages of fall. Then I walked into the coffee shop and ordered three coffees. I took my drinks, walked over, and sat on the couch. I opened my iPad to read the morning paper while I scanned the room and sipped at my coffee.

  “Does your sister still believe that you work for Chase Manhattan?”

  “I have given her any reason to question it,” I replied, as I looked up at my boss. He was a handsome, dark haired – dark eyed man, but you could almost see the horns that held up his halo. That darkened ring above his head would need a never-ending supply of batteries that he would steal from someone else just to keep it lit.

  “You really haven’t told her you are working with the CIA?”

  I shook my head as he sat down and took a coffee cup from my tray. He looked questionably at me when he saw the extra cup that was left untouched.

  “Expecting someone?”

  “Just you,” I lied. “I needed an extra caffeine boost today with Brooklyn’s incessant need to see if Mark’s penis could dent in the baby’s head these last few days.”

  “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?” He growled in a low voice, narrowing those dark eyes at me.

  “Of course not. You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?” I challenged him as his eyes glared right through me.

  “About what?”

  “The reason we’ve been meeting here and not at the office,” I retorted.

  “We’re meeting here because I’m still working on something and keeping you away from the office allows me to use you in the field when needed. You are my top tracker. In fact, I have something for you today,” he continued on, but I tuned him out as I rolled my eyes. They had never let me out into the field as a real agent. I was merely a translator, and since I had breasts in a dick filled office, I doubted they ever would.