by Shawna Seed
“We’re OK here,” she told Well. “Thanks for keeping an eye out.”
“No sweat,” Well said. He took a couple tentative steps toward his house. “I saw the cops crawling all over here and I read about Brian in the paper. Real sorry about that.”
Other than the girls at work, nobody had tried to talk to Sharlah about Brian, and it wasn’t a conversation she really wanted to have with a neighbor she barely knew.
“Thanks,” Sharlah said, hoping that would be the end of it.
“Seems like a lot of hassle over some weed,” Well said. “Nancy Reagan and all this ‘Just Say No’ crap has gone too far, you know?”
Kevin caught Sharlah’s glance and raised an eyebrow.
“It’s just a diversion,” Well said, and it seemed like he was just getting warmed up. “So we don’t notice what’s going down in Central America, you know?”
Kevin put his hand on Sharlah’s elbow and started toward the house. “Sharlah and I need to talk, so you’ll have to excuse us now. Sorry about the misunderstanding.”
“Like, in El Salvador, we’re…” Well caught on, finally, that Kevin and Sharlah intended to walk away. “Right,” he said. “Enough about Bonzo.”
He retreated across the street and up the rickety steps to his porch, where he sat down in a battered director’s chair.
“What a weirdo,” Kevin said under his breath as he and Sharlah walked away.
Sharlah unlocked the front door and gave it a hard shove. The wood always swelled in the summer, making the door stick.
“I don’t know why you guys live in such a shitty neighborhood,” Kevin said. He took a step inside the house and stopped. “Jesus. Don’t you have AC?”
“We turn it off when we’re not home,” Sharlah said. “It keeps the light bill down.”
“Well, turn it on. It’s a fucking sauna in here.”
“I’ll just be a minute,” Sharlah said. “It won’t take long to cool down.”
“Mind if I get a drink?”
One of the things Sharlah hated about their house was the way the rooms were laid out one after another. People had to walk through the bedroom to get to the kitchen or the bathroom, which opened off the bedroom. She hadn’t minded so much when it was friends like Cliff and Missy, but it felt strange to have Kevin walk through her bedroom.
“It’s this way,” she told Kevin, leading him through the bedroom doorway. She stopped to turn on the window AC unit, waving him on to the kitchen. “Help yourself. I’m just going to duck into the bathroom.”
Sharlah was dying to get out of her work clothes, but she settled for wriggling out of her pantyhose. Usually she took them off in her car in the parking lot at work, but Zuk had been sitting there in his cruiser, watching her. There really was nothing worse than pantyhose on a hot day. Joan’s insistence that all the girls wear them was the one thing Sharlah could say she definitely hated about her job.
When she came out of the bathroom, Kevin was standing with his head in her refrigerator. “Don’t you have any beer?”
“We’re out.” She pulled a glass down from the cupboard. “Do you want ice water?”
“That’s OK,” Kevin said. He slammed the refrigerator shut and leaned against it, looking straight at Sharlah in a way that made her nervous.
Sharlah never knew quite how to take Kevin. He looked so much like Brian, but he was so unlike him in other ways. She liked his take-charge attitude in getting rid of Well, and sometimes, honestly, she wished Brian had a little more of that. Brian would do anything to avoid confrontation. But the way Kevin banged around cussing and criticizing their neighborhood and griping about the AC put her off.
He and Brian were really close, which Sharlah thought was great. She barely knew either of her brothers. But sometimes she felt like it was a one-way street, that Brian paid more attention to what Kevin thought than Kevin did to what Brian thought. Lately, she’d thought that Brian was catching on to that, too, and he didn’t seem to have such a bad case of hero worship when it came to Kevin.
Sharlah ran some cold water from the tap into her glass and drank it down. “We should sit in the living room,” she said. “The kitchen is the last place to cool off.”
Kevin followed her to the living room and sat on the couch. “I thought you’d be home from work earlier.”
“I was at the police station again,” Sharlah said, taking the chair. She’d started to say more, but then she realized that Kevin might not have heard about Cliff.
“Was it about Missy this time, or Cliff?”
Relieved again that she didn’t have to break bad news, Sharlah said, “Kevin, I’m so sorry. I know you and Cliff were friends since you were little.”
Sharlah noticed for the first time how rough Kevin looked. His color was off, he had dark circles under his eyes, and he’d hacked his neck shaving.
“It’s hard to believe this is all happening,” Kevin said. “What did the police want? You don’t know anything about what happened to Cliff.”
“It was more about Missy,” Sharlah said. “I’m so worried about how Brian’s going to take the news about Cliff.”
Kevin leaned forward, balancing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. “What a God-awful mess Brian’s gotten himself into,” he said.
She supposed Kevin was trying to be sympathetic, but it just made Sharlah mad, the way he seemed to blame Brian for everything.
“The police tried to make him feel like Missy was his fault. They’ll probably do the same about Cliff,” she said, hoping Kevin would take her point. “He’s so sad, Kevin. I hope you can buck him up when you see him. Maybe we could go Saturday, unless your folks want to go?”
“Saturday’s no good,” Kevin said. “I have to work. Dad does, too. We’re going to have to sell a lot of boats to pay that lawyer. And no way is Mom going to see him in there. You should just plan to do the visiting for now.”
Sharlah’s first reaction – she couldn’t help it – was happiness. She wanted Brian all to herself. But she knew that was selfish. It was important to do what was best for Brian.
“It would mean a lot to him if you would come,” Sharlah said. “You guys are so close, and he listens to you. You know what the lawyer said – we all have to encourage Brian to cooperate with the police.”
Kevin shook his head. “He’s not going to listen to me, Sharlah.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I think it would just make him feel worse if I saw him in there. It’s always been hard for Brian, the difference between us,” Kevin said. “Now, especially, you know. I have a wife and a house and a baby on the way… I think his resentment would get in the way of hearing anything I had to say.”
Just like that, Sharlah was angry again. How could Brian’s family understand so little about him?
“Brian doesn’t resent you! He’s happy for you! He’s really excited about being an uncle,” Sharlah said. “The only thing he resents is people wanting him to be some carbon copy of you instead of himself.”
Kevin held his palms up. “I’m not trying to make you mad, Sharlah. Look, I know you love Brian, but you don’t know everything about him. I’m just telling you the truth here.”
“It’s not the truth! You guys don’t understand him at all! It’s like your mom saying Brian got into trouble just to stick it to her. That’s not why he did it.”
Kevin cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. “So why did he do it?”
“I don’t know why he did it, Kevin. We can’t exactly talk about it. He’s in jail, remember?”
“What about before he was in jail? It’s kind of hard to believe this was going on and you didn’t notice anything.”
Sharlah sprang to her feet. “You know what, Kevin? You can just get out.” She marched across the living room and tugged the front door open. “Seriously. Just get out. I’m tired of your family acting like this is my fault.”
Kevin slowly rose from the couch, like it took a
big effort. “Sharlah, nobody is saying this is your fault.”
“You mom said exactly that. She said I got Brian into an immoral lifestyle.”
“Mom says a lot of things.” He gestured toward the door. “You’re letting the cold air out.”
“How come you didn’t say anything at the lawyer’s office?”
“There’s a way to deal with Mom,” Kevin said, “and arguing with her or airing family business in public isn’t it. I’ve told Brian that a million times.” He smiled at her. “Shut the door, Sharlah. We’re all on the same side here. We all want to help Brian.”
Sharlah reluctantly shut the door, but she wasn’t placated.
“Why are you here, Kevin? You could have told me over the phone that you don’t care about seeing Brian.”
That last part, Sharlah realized, might be a little unfair, but she wasn’t in a mood to take it back.
Kevin let it go. “I wanted to see how you were getting along,” he said. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you after court, and I was beat when you called the other night.”
He sat back down on the couch. “So how are you doing, Sharlah?”
Sharlah held her spot by the door. “I’m OK.”
Kevin chuckled. “Brian always says you’re a tough cookie. He wasn’t kidding. Don’t be mad at me. I’m not the enemy.”
He settled back against the couch cushions like he was planning to stay awhile. “I didn’t have a chance to call yet about Brian’s check. Are you OK for money? Things are a little tight right now for Lynn and me, but I could talk to Mom and Dad…”
“Your mother wouldn’t give me a nickel, and I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of turning me down,” Sharlah said. “I’ll be fine.”
“You sure? Your refrigerator seemed pretty empty.”
“I haven’t had a chance to go to the store,” Sharlah lied.
Kevin slapped his hands against the cushions. “OK, look, there’s another reason I drove down here. Mom thinks that at Brian’s next hearing…”
“Brian has a new hearing? Nobody told me that! When is it?”
“No, he doesn’t have it yet,” Kevin said. “Mom asked me to come get some of his nice clothes so she can make sure they’re clean and pressed when he finally does get it.”
“She thinks I can’t even get Brian’s clothes ready? I’ve been doing his laundry for two years, but all of a sudden I can’t do it right?”
“Jesus, Sharlah, everything Mom does is not meant as a put-down of you,” Kevin said. “She needs to do something, and this is the only thing she can think of.”
“She could try being nicer to him,” Sharlah said. “That’s something she could do.”
Kevin’s expression soured. “She’s not going to turn into a different person overnight just because Brian got arrested, Sharlah.”
The phone rang in the kitchen, and Sharlah jumped up, no longer interested in arguing with Kevin.
“That might be Brian,” she said. “He said he’d call today.”
“Better answer it, then,” Kevin said. “I can grab his clothes while you’re on the phone.”
“Brian’s stuff is in the top two drawers,” Sharlah said, already halfway to the kitchen. “If it’s Brian, do you want to say hi? I’m not sure how long he gets on the phone, but I know he’d love to talk to you.”
The phone trilled again, and Kevin shooed her toward the kitchen.
Sharlah picked up the receiver and then waited as an operator gave her instructions before Brian finally came on the line.
“Shar? Are you there?”
“Hey, Brian,” Sharlah said. She stretched the phone cord as far as it would go, across the kitchen. “Kevin’s here. He wants to say hi.”
Clutching the receiver to her chest, she called to Kevin. “It’s Brian. Come say hi.”
Kevin poked his head around the doorway from the bedroom. “He only has 15 minutes,” Sharlah said. She held the receiver out to him. “Please?” she whispered.
Kevin clearly wasn’t happy, but he took the phone.
“Hey, Baby Bro,” he bellowed, and Sharlah winced. This was Kevin the backslapping businessman, not Kevin the loyal brother.
“I just came down here to check on Sharlah, and she’s doing great. You don’t need to worry about anything there. Dad’s got the lawyer working on a new hearing, so until then you just need to sit tight, OK? Everything out here is totally under control. Hope the chow in there is OK! Here’s Sharlah again.”
Kevin handed Sharlah the phone back and retreated to the bedroom. Sharlah didn’t think he’d let Brian get in a single word.
She scooted back across the kitchen and sat on the floor with her back against the outside door. “Brian, are you there?”
“Yeah,” Brian said quietly.
They talked about Cliff a little, but Brian’s breath got ragged, like he might cry, so Sharlah let him change the subject. He asked about her clutch and her day at work. He wanted to know what was going on in her world, as if her life had room for anything but his problems at the moment.
Brian seemed so sad that she didn’t have the heart to press him about cooperating with the police. Cliff was dead; maybe Brian would come around on his own without her nagging.
All too soon, they got a warning message letting them know they had one minute left.
“Come see me tomorrow?” Brian asked.
“If I do that, you’ll have to wait until Monday for another visit,” Sharlah said. “And I’ll get there kind of late, too, because of work.”
“I need to see you,” Brian said. “Come tomorrow.”
As she hung up the phone, Sharlah realized that her hands were shaking. She wanted to scream or cry, maybe even break something.
It was impossible to have a real conversation with Brian knowing someone could be listening in. She couldn’t ask any of the really important questions.
Why did you do it?
What am I supposed to do with the money?
Brian simply had to get bail. Then they could talk – really talk – and figure things out. Until then, there was almost nothing she could do to help him.
She started to see Kevin’s point about his mom, how it was important to feel like she was doing something.
Sharlah went to the bedroom and paused in the doorway, stunned.
“What are you doing?”
Kevin was pawing through one of the dresser drawers, spilling a waterfall of colorful T-shirts to the floor in his haste. Another drawer had been dumped out on the bed.
Kevin jumped at the sound of her voice. “Are you off the phone already? I’m looking for a T-shirt.”
“The plain white ones are on top, with his socks and underwear.” Sharlah opened the top drawer to reveal a neat stack of white tees.
“Don’t know how I missed that,” Kevin said, backing up and shaking his head. “Guess I got frustrated and made a mess. Sorry.”
Sharlah handed him a white T-shirt from the stack. Then she began refolding and straightening everything he’d disturbed in the second drawer. “Did you find his button-down shirt and nice pants? Those are in the closet.”
“Right,” Kevin said. He opened the closet and began pulling out the clothes Brian almost never wore: khakis, white button-down shirt, blue blazer.
Sharlah finished straightening the second drawer and moved to the pile on the bed, thinking that Kevin must be a worse slob to live with than Brian. Poor Lynn.
“Where are his ties?”
“Look on the peg at the back of the closet,” Sharlah said. She folded Brian’s jeans and replaced them in the drawer. “I think there’s only one.”
“Found it.” Kevin looped the tie over the neck of the hanger that held the shirt, then hung the jacket on top of that. “That should do it.”
Sharlah handed him a pair of dark socks and pointed to Brian’s dress shoes. “No, that should do it.”
Kevin exhaled long and hard, like someone who had just climbed a flight of stairs. He had put on w
eight lately; Brian joked about his brother getting a belly just like his wife.
“You do a good job keeping up with laundry. It’s really gone to hell at our house lately. I’m out of clean everything, seems like. I’ve had to dig deep.” Kevin mopped his forearm across his brow. “Hey, can I buy you dinner?”
Sharlah looked at him skeptically. “Don’t you need to get on home to Lynn?”
“She’s got girlfriends over tonight,” Kevin said. “They’re addressing birth announcements or thank-you notes or something.” He smiled at Sharlah. “Tell you what. I’ll call her while you get changed, and then we’ll go get something to eat.”
Sharlah hesitated. “I have to get up early.”
“You haven’t gone to the store. There’s nothing here to eat,” Kevin said. He edged by her and out of the room. “Go on. Get changed.”
Sharlah didn’t want to admit it, but a meal on someone else’s dime was appealing. She’d had to shorten her shift twice and was running far behind her back-of-the-envelope estimations. Dinner with Kevin would give her one extra day of groceries, and that was an offer she couldn’t afford to pass up.
Kevin wanted to eat at one of the restaurants down by the seawall that catered to tourists, a place Sharlah and Brian avoided because it was too expensive. He tried to talk her out of it, but Sharlah insisted on driving her own car so Kevin could head straight home after dinner.
The place was busy. Their waitress already had at least four tables, including an eight-top, and when she came by to get their drink orders, she was friendly but frazzled.
Sharlah thought about a beer but decided to stick to water. Kevin ordered a Long Island Iced Tea. “You sure you don’t want a drink? I’m buying,” he said.
Sharlah shook her head. “I have to get up early.”
Suddenly, a loud voice boomed across the restaurant.
“Aileen was upgraded today from a tropical storm, and a hurricane watch has been posted from Corpus Christi to Grand Isle, Louisiana.”
The bartender had turned up the TV over the bar, and everyone in the restaurant paused for a moment to watch the weatherman from one of the Houston stations.