by Megan Bryce
The little girl he’d loved, the little girl he’d protected and babied and sacrificed for was gone. She hadn’t left yet but she would.
Jack just wasn’t ready for that.
Jack arrived home late. He’d stayed and worked, not having any good reason to leave.
He found his mother in the front parlor and she tilted her cheek for him to peck a kiss on it.
She said, “Augusta?”
“What do you think?”
His mother pinched her lips together. “That boy is a horrible influence. I can’t believe you would let her go with him.”
“What do you want me to do, Mother?”
“Something.”
“As she has said, I am not her father. And even if I was, she’s eighteen.”
“Take away her allowance. He won’t be sniffing around her anymore if she doesn’t have any money to throw around.”
Jack sighed, settling into a deep burgundy chair that had been his father’s, and his father’s before him.
“You’re her mother, why don’t you do it? Why don’t you take over the finances again? Not only would it strike terror into your daughter’s heart, it would give me a break.”
She flapped her hand at him. “No. I don’t want to.”
He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t say what he wanted to. That mourning for a man for ten years was too long. That she’d been in mourning for nearly twenty years of her life and it had eaten away a third of it.
Jack had been eleven when his father had died and his mother had mourned for ten years. Ten long years, and then she’d gone out and found a second husband in one month. Nine months later, they’d had Augusta.
Jack had been twenty-two and he’d suddenly found himself a big brother. He’d had a mother again, suddenly, a father again, though he hadn’t wanted one.
And a tiny squalling sister he’d never thought he’d wanted. A squalling sister he’d come home to every break, every holiday. A squalling sister who would climb into his lap and wrap her chubby arms around his neck and smile at him, babbling nonstop.
To him she had seemed like everything good and wondrous about this world. He didn’t know how anyone could look at her and not feel his heart puddling into his feet.
He’d spoiled her. And now he was paying the price.
He’d never wanted to take over the father-figure role. He’d loved being the fun older brother, loved being the one she ran to when Mother was too much.
But the older Augusta got, the more fear Jack felt. She wasn’t a beautiful child anymore, she was growing into a beautiful young woman. A woman that other men looked at and wanted.
Just how in the hell was he supposed to handle that?
He pushed himself to his feet. “I’m going to bed.”
He didn’t know what to do about Augusta. He didn’t know what to do about his mother.
He was half-afraid that in two years’ time his mother would come out of mourning and find herself another husband that very month.
He was half-afraid and half-hopeful.
She said, “What about Augusta?”
“She’s at a party.” On a Wednesday night, the night before Halloween. And Jack knew there would be another party tomorrow night. And Friday as well.
Maybe Delia was right. Maybe Augusta was trying to figure out how to be an adult and didn’t have any responsibilities to worry about, only parties to plan for.
Jack said, “Are you serious about taking away her allowance?”
“You’re in charge, Jack. If you think that’s what’s best.”
His mother didn’t have any responsibilities either; she’d pawned them all off on him.
He thought it might be too late for her. But maybe he could do something about Augusta.
When Delia came through his office door the next morning, Jack stared. And then he realized he should have expected this.
She said, “Why am I not surprised you didn’t dress up?”
“Why am I not surprised you did?”
She struck a pose, her fists on her hips, her hair in braids sticking straight out from her head, a grin splitting her face.
It took a lot of effort not to smile back at her.
“Aren’t you a little old to be Pippi Longstocking?”
She stopped smiling to glare at him. “I’m a little old to do a lot of things. Being Pippi Longstocking isn’t one of them.”
She pulled on her booties and he waited until she’d finished before he said, “I cut off Augusta’s phone.”
She turned around. “It’s a start. Baby steps, right?”
“I closed all her credit card accounts.”
“All of them? She had more than one?”
“I emptied her bank account.”
She nodded at him approvingly, looking impressed. “Huh. I didn’t see that coming.”
“She didn’t come home last night.”
She tilted her head, smiling a little at his discomfort. “And you’re afraid of what she might have been doing the whole night.”
“I know what she was doing. I wish I didn’t.”
She raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “You can’t tell me you ever stayed the whole night out partying. I won’t believe you.”
“You think I’ve been working in this office my entire life?”
She chuckled, opening a paint can. “Yes, I do.”
When she looked back at him, he smiled at her slightly, and her eyes widened. She sucked in a breath and looked back down at the paint can quickly.
She muttered quietly, “Put that thing away,” and it made him want to smile at her again. Made him want to see her face flush and heat enter her eyes. It made a nice change from disgust.
But it clashed with her Pippi Longstocking costume. There was something not quite right about Pippi looking lustful.
He said, “I expect Augusta to come crashing into the office sometime today to yell at me about the money.”
“You might want to think about calling her Gus. Just a suggestion.”
Jack couldn’t think of an uglier name for his beautiful sister. He said, “You’re full of them. Suggestions. Here’s one for you– make a hasty exit and take a break when you see her coming.”
“Aw. Can’t I stay and watch? I signed the confidentiality agreement.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to see that.”
“Trust me, I was a teenage girl once. Nothing she could do would faze me.”
He sighed. It fazed him and he wished not for the first time that his mother would have handled Augusta, that there had been a woman to deal with this. He’d suspected, and now Delia had confirmed it. A woman would’ve handled Augusta better than he had.
He waved his approval at her and she grinned at him, looking forward to the show.
And somehow, that look fit right in with her costume. Pippi was excited for the chaos and drama to come.
His door crashed open far earlier then Jack was expecting but he didn’t take his eyes off his computer screen.
Augusta shouted, “Jack!”
He continued to type. “Just a minute, Gus. Let me finish this email.”
It shocked her into silence which hadn’t been his plan. He’d hoped that if he said Gus without looking at her he could get it out.
When he looked up at her, he recoiled and stood swiftly to walk towards her. Her hair was matted, her makeup smeared. She looked tired and mussed.
He grabbed her arms, looking for anything wrong with her. “Are you okay?”
“I have no money!”
“And that’s why you look like you’ve been attacked?”
“No, it was just… I haven’t slept.” She shrugged. “It was a good party.”
His heart started beating again and he knew he was doing the right thing.
He walked back to his chair and she said at a slightly lower decibel, “Jack, I have no money.”
He held out the phone she’d left yesterday. “You have no phone, either. I turned it off.”
“You were right, Gus. I’ve been treating you like a child. You’re not, you’re an adult, and I apologize.”
She stared at him with her mouth hanging open.
He thought he heard a little snicker of laughter from the peanut gallery and he looked up to find Delia peeking over the edge of the scaffolding, her braids still sticking straight out from her head.
Augusta, Gus, angled her head up, her mouth still hanging wide open.
Delia said, “Sorry. I couldn’t keep it in when he apologized. I’ve known him for a week and I know he’s never wrong.”
Gus closed her mouth. “He was wrong. I am an adult.”
“Oh, yeah. I was saying he never thinks he’s wrong.”
Jack said, “I can hear everything you’re saying.”
Delia laughed and pulled her head back in.
Gus sat down slowly. “You do always think you’re right, you know?”
“That is because I usually am.”
Delia snickered again and Gus’s lips twitched. “But not about this?”
“I don’t want to be wrong about this. The evidence suggests otherwise.”
Gus smiled at him, as if all she’d wanted was for him to see that.
She said, “So now can I have my money back?”
A laugh pushed past his lips. “It was my money that I gave you. Perhaps it’s time for a job.”
She stopped smiling at him. “A job?”
“I assume you would like a phone again. You’ll need a job to pay for it.”
“I…uh… Did I hit my head?”
“No. You grew up.”
She looked around his office. “Do I have to work here?”
“No. But if you’d like a share of the profits then you’ll have to contribute.”
“Mother doesn’t contribute.”
“And that’s who you want to emulate?”
Gus blinked at him. Then she studied him, like she’d never thought before of what he must think of their mother. Of what his mother retreating from the world had meant for him.
She said, “No,” and he nodded.
“Then you need to find a job. If you would like one here, Ms. Charles can find something for you to do.”
Gus grimaced. “I don’t want to make your coffee and schedule your meetings.”
“I was thinking janitorial services. You have no experience, no education. A college degree does come in handy if you aspire to more than emptying the garbage.”
Delia cleared her throat loudly.
Jack stopped and leaned back in his chair. He exhaled loudly, then said quietly, “Sorry.”
Gus grinned at him. “I really do like her.”
Jack thought it was going to take some effort to transition from older brother to peer. But he looked at the grin on her face, at the humor she could see in the situation, and thought he might like Gus as an adult.
He was never going to like that name.
“You can go down to HR. See what they have available that you’re qualified for.”
She looked down at her clothes. “Not like this. And I’m hungry. I didn’t have any money for breakfast.”
“Your boyfriend couldn’t help you?”
She glared at him and he said, “Is that something two adults can’t talk about?”
She raised her eyebrows. “He didn’t have any money, either.”
Of course he didn’t. Jack might not agree with his mother that the only thing the boy wanted from Gus was her money but her lack of it would certainly put a damper on things.
Jack said, “I’ll take you to lunch.”
“What about Delia? She likes to eat.”
They both looked up to find Delia looking down at them again and she gave Gus a startled look. “Uh… No. Thanks.”
Jack said, “Yes. She can come.” If Delia was there it would save him from being alone with his sister when she looked like she’d spent the night doing things he didn’t want to think about. With Delia there he could pretend it was part of her Halloween costume.
And Delia wouldn’t hesitate to point it out to him when he was treating Gus like his little sister instead of an adult.
Gus said, “Let me go fix my makeup first,” and Jack was glad he hadn’t said anything about it.
She grinned up at Delia. “I’ll use the bathroom down the hall like the rest of the workers.”
Delia watched Gus walk out the office door without slamming it. She murmured, “You’re good.”
“She’s in shock. It’ll wear off.”
“And how are you doing?”
He sat back, leaning in his chair so he could see her without putting a crick in his neck. “I’m wondering when the other shoe will drop.”
“It’ll be when the newness wears off and she realizes the real world sucks.”
He chuckled and she pulled away from the side until he couldn’t see her anymore.
She said, “I’m going to work through lunch. But thanks for the offer.”
“It’s not an offer, you’re going.”
She laughed.
He said, “You wanted to stay and see the show. It’s not over yet.” When she still didn’t say anything, he said, “And you like to eat, remember? Don’t you want to come and clear your throat at me a few more times?”
“Are you going to use your expense account?”
“No. I’m going to pay for it with my ill-gotten gains.”
She peeked over the side again, her eyes narrowed, her lips pinched together. He looked at her, expressionless.
“I’m in an expansive mood, Delia. Come and enjoy it because it doesn’t happen often. I won’t even expect a thank you after.”
“Just this once.”
He smiled, remembering she hadn’t slammed his door since she’d said that last time.
She pointed her finger at him. “And stop doing that.”
“What?”
“Smiling!”
“I will refrain.”
She sighed and crawled to the ladder. “Good.”
Megan BryceSome Like It Perfect
Four
Justine wanted to vomit.
She’d waited and she’d waited. Waited to meet someone, waited for them to make a move, waited for them to suggest moving in together, take it to the next step. And it had never happened.
She didn’t wait in her career. Didn’t wait for her boss to tell her what a good job she was doing, she told him. Reminded him constantly of all she brought to the company. How she made his life easier, how she made the bottom line better. Why she deserved the promotion, the raise. And reminded him that if he couldn’t keep her happy, there were other places, other bosses, that would.
So, why couldn’t she do the same in her personal life?
Because she didn’t believe it. She didn’t know how she made life easier for Paul. She didn’t know if she made life better for him.
And she didn’t know that there would be anyone else who could keep her happy if Paul didn’t.
They’d been dating exclusively for months. It was time to take it to the next step.
She couldn’t wait for him to decide they were ready. She was going to tell him. She pushed at her stomach, hoping she could do it without losing her lunch.
She hoped she could do it without hearing him say he disagreed.
She carried a bag of sandwiches across Paul’s floor and smiled at the workers burning the midnight oil. There were a few desks with cobwebs on the side, one with a giant spider trying to climb out of a drawer, but no one had dressed up for Halloween. No one had dressed up in her office either and Justine knew she wouldn’t get any trick-or-treaters.
There weren’t any children in her building. None that she knew of, at least.
She knocked on Paul’s door and pushed it open.
She smiled and he smiled back, and she felt guilt that she’d thought about getting pregnant accidentally on purpose to keep him. She felt guilt that the idea was still swimming in
the back of her mind, whispering to her how easy it would be.
So easy. Just have a little accident. Just be a little forgetful. And she could have the family she’d been waiting for. She’d waited so long.
Paul stood, walking around the desk to kiss her. He took the bag, peeking inside. “Thanks, honey. You know you don’t have to do this.”
He put the bag down on his desk and pulled her against him.
She went to him smiling, all the while wanting to scream at him. See, see! Don’t you want this? Why don’t you want this!
Justine took a deep breath. “I know. But you’ve been so busy.” She ran her hand down his lapel. “Your suits are starting to swim on you.”
He laughed, digging into the bag with one hand. “If only that were true. But all this time sitting, along with all the muffins they keep around this place, and I know that you are just being kind.”
She took the bag from him, pulling out napkins and laying them out on the desk as plates.
She’d wait until he was full and happy– she had learned a thing or two about men in the last eighteen years– and then bring up moving in together.
He took a big bite of sandwich and she blurted, “I think we should move in together.”
He froze, his cheeks full of meatballs, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “I mean, I like you. I think we should think about moving in together.”
She heard him chew slowly and gulp. She kept her eyes closed.
“Honey, I like you, too. I don’t know if now is the time to move in together, though. I’m so busy I can hardly think.”
She opened her eyes and he wasn’t looking at her as if he wanted to run screaming.
She said, “I know you’re busy. We hardly get to see each other and I thought maybe this would help with that. There would be some time together, even if it was just sleeping in the same bed.”
He smiled and touched her wrist. “I could get behind sleeping in the same bed.”
“What if we just moved in together on the weekends? We can alternate between your place and mine. We can trade keys.”
“Is that okay with Delia? You do have a roommate to think about.”
“I already asked her.”