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“Yeah.” Vivian peeked into one of the bags still in the hallway. “When you left the house you had curls, an old black pantsuit, and the ugliest pocketbook created on earth. Oh wait, you’re still holding that coconut contraption.”
“My purse never did anything to you. Leave it alone.” I clutched it to my chest. “Anyway. I got the job!”
“What?” Vivian’s blue eyes brightened as she jumped up and down. “Stone freaking Industries?”
“Yes!” I screamed back and swayed, doing a victory dance we’d created back in high school when we were on the debate team. “Tell your father thanks.”
Benny, Vivian’s father, was out of town now, somewhere in Europe. When he returned, I would thank him face-to-face. I hadn’t even known he’d recommended me for a job. One morning, a woman called and told me that Mr. Benny Nix referred me for the executive assistant position and to start the application process.
“In fact, I’ll have to send him a bottle of scotch,” I said. “Something really expensive.”
“Dad will love that.” Vivian did the dance with me and added some extra skips and steps.
I laughed and copied her.
“You’re both still my geeky little girls.” Troy went to the hallway, swept the bags up with one hand, and carried them in. I followed Vivian into our tiny living room. She crashed on our green-and-yellow-polka-dot couch.
“This is huge. I get six figures! I had no idea.” I paused as I spotted Troy’s duffle bag slumped against the wall next to Vivian’s TV. “Why is your bag here?”
He remained quiet and placed my shopping bags by the lime-green coffee table. Vivian had painted a landscape scene on top of the table full of lush grass, jagged brown cliffs, and vibrant violet flowers that sparkled in a shimmering sun. Currently smoking paper, a three-foot bong, and a bag of light green marijuana buds adorned the art work.
“I told him he could stay for a while.” Vivian rested her feet on the table as Troy collapsed next to her.
“Was this before or after you both smoked a joint?” I asked, knowing that Troy would be on probation and drug use would be a major violation.
He’s only been out of jail for a few hours and already he’s breaking rules.
My joyous night crashed back to my normal state of constant anxiety.
I can’t watch him go back to jail, and damn it, I’m so tired of dealing with this.
“It’s temporary, Sis.” Troy displayed a gloomy expression. “It’s not like I can go stay with Mom.”
Nope.
One day back in South End and he’d be in jail by the evening. Our older brothers hurt a lot of people in our neighborhood, from stealing, shooting relatives, or getting their loved ones incarcerated. Men trying to get a name for themselves would bother Troy just because our other brothers weren’t around to protect him. Even worse, Troy would only be bored and discouraged. The whole area had a way of dragging the residences’ spirits down and making them feel like there was no God or salvation, only depression.
Not that where Vivian and I lived was high class. We stayed in a small town called Knightson, ten minutes outside of Oshane City. It was so small it only had two stop lights. Lots of hippies walked the streets, holding baskets of fresh fruit and radiating the scent of weed. The rest were middle class families who commuted to their jobs in the city. Knightson provided an easy and relaxed living compared to the fast-paced life of Oshane City. No one bothered anyone, and if they did it was to help in some way. The area claimed to have the best schools in the state and lowest crime rate in the country.
Living here would be better for him.
“Only temporary?” I asked.
He flashed that winning smile and nodded. “It was Vivian’s idea.”
Sure it was.
Ever since we were young, Troy had a way of getting Vivian to agree to anything. She used to do all of his homework in middle school, although she claimed it was tutoring.
When he ran away from home, she hid him in her bedroom for a whole week and didn’t even tell me he was there. Four years ago, she’d even let him borrow her car. The same car that was impounded when he was caught inside of it with our brother, Neil, who happened to have several pounds of drugs in a duffle bag in the back seat.
Troy told me he didn’t know about the drugs and that Neil had just asked for a ride. It was probably true.
Neil tended to get people in trouble. That was the last time I’d seen Troy and Neil. I hated going to visit my brothers in jail. So I chose to write them constantly and send them packages instead.
“Having Troy here will be awesome.” Vivian clapped and rubbed her hands together.
I didn’t want to get Vivian in any trouble or take further advantage of her father’s hospitality.
