AllFreeNovel
Share Us
13
Finally getting in my truck at the end of an exceptionally long workday, my whole body aches. I want to go home, shower, and sleep through tomorrow. I won’t, of course, because I own the damn company, but a man can dream. Besides, I have a woman that I promised to have dinner with that is waiting for me.
As soon as I turn on the ignition, my phone lights up on the seat next to me. An audible groan escapes me before I grab it. The annoyance quickly leaves though, when I see Savannah across the screen. I slide the bar and put the phone on speaker, sitting it on my leg.
“Hey, sis. What’s going on?”
“Hey big bro. Just walking back to my dorm, I figured I’d give you a call.” My sister goes to Texas A&M, where she is getting a business degree. She’s incredibly book smart, but college is taking her forever. Having gotten her GED early, the university accepted her when she was seventeen. And at twenty-two, she should definitely be done by now.
“Savannah, you know how I feel about you walking at night by yourself.” I don’t want to go to Texas, let alone jail, all because someone puts their hands on her. I will, but it’s not on my top list of things I want to do.
“Stop being dramatic. I like getting the fresh air. Plus, that’s why I call you. Less chance of someone attacking me if I’m on the phone. And if it does, you’ll hear it and can call 911 for me!” The thought of hearing that happen makes my forehead break out in a sweat. She is being way too nonchalant about the whole damn thing.
“Remind me to lock you up next time I see you, so I don’t have to worry about this shit anymore.”
“Deal. Now, tell me something exciting.” This is a typical conversation for us. Why a college girl doesn’t have enough going on in her life that she calls me to pry for information is beyond me.
“Nothing exciting is happening over here.” That’s a lie. Her name is Elizabeth Clark and I find her extremely exciting, but my sister isn’t going to be privy to that information anytime soon.
“You’re such a buzzkill,” she scoffs. “Have you talked to mom lately?” Our dad passed away three years ago in a car wreck, and our mom hasn’t been the same since. I guess that’s bound to happen when you’ve been married for thirty years and have built a life with someone. And to top it all off, she got diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer with a very grim future.
“I’m on my way to her house now.” She still lives in our childhood home right outside of New Orleans. I make it a point to see her at least once every two weeks, trying to soak up all the time I can with her before her clock runs out. Which isn’t exceedingly long. The doctors gave her six months to live four months ago.
“How is she doing?” Savannah has a strained relationship with our mom for reasons I’ll never understand. Maybe she finally learned about her teenage escapades and didn't appreciate all the lies that were told. But that means Savannah would have told her herself, which I don’t see happening. I made a promise all those years ago to never speak of it, and I never break a promise.
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” I’m not a go between for either of them. And I let them both know each time they ask. Which is every time we speak. Our mom has minimal time left and they need to fix whatever is happening.
“You don’t have to be an ass.” Annoyance laces her words. I know it’s hard for her. Hell, it’s hard on me too, but it would be nice to have a partner to go through all this with. I don’t see Savannah waving the white flag anytime soon, though. She’s never been one to back down from a stand-off.
“And you both don’t have to be so hardheaded. You’re two grown women. Just talk to each other.”
“It’s not that simple and you know it,” she argues.
“No, Sav, I don’t know. I have no idea what’s going on between you two, nor do I care to. I have my own shit to deal with.” Like our mother guilting me every time I speak to her, how she’s going to die not knowing if her children will ever be happy in life. She doesn’t want us to be lonely like she has been for the last three years.
“Oh?” She perks up a little. “What kind of shit?”
“Just work.” Another lie. I don’t make it a habit of doing it often, but some things are meant to be kept to yourself. And if Savannah wants nothing to do with our mom, then I’m not going to be venting my frustrations to her.
“Boss man having a hard time handling things on the business front?” She always makes jabs about me owning my business. Sometimes I wonder if it’s jealousy, but I’ve offered so many times to bring her on as a partner. She wants nothing to do with it.
“There’s just a lot of projects going on and not enough guys that want to work.”
“You sound pretty sexist. I’m sure there are plenty of women who would be happy to work for you.” A car honks in the background, letting me know she is getting close to her dorm. College kids drive like maniacs and love those damn horns.
“Are you offering to move back and come work for me?” I can only hope.
“Hell no.” Her footsteps land hard on the stairs. “Just saying that you should hire some females. I’d bet more of them would stick around since they all drool over you.”
“That’s enough of that. Are you home yet?”
“Just walked in. I’ll talk to you later,” she says. “And tell whatever her name is that I can’t wait to meet her.” The line cuts off and I'm stuck staring out the windshield. How the hell do sisters always know things before you tell them? It’s fucking weird.
I take the exit to my mom’s house. Tyson would give me so much shit for being here on a Friday night, but we live vastly different lives. The guy is never home on the weekends. He’s a hot-shot NBA star who constantly has women throwing themselves at him, and he soaks it all up. I could never, would never, want that life. Not that I’m a saint. I’ve had my fair share of women, but I would bet good money that it doesn’t hold a candle to Tyson.
Walking inside, the smell of spaghetti leads me straight to the kitchen, where I find my mom at the stove.
“Hey sweetie,” she says without turning around. I believe every mom who has ever said they have eyes in the back of their head.
