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“You’ll collect what you earn. Get dressed.”
“Money. Say no more. I’ll be there.”
“You’re going to work, and then, and only then, will you get a dime.”
I slam his bedroom door shut behind me and lean my head back, trying to calm my breathing. I’ve tried my best with Adam, but he may be too much like our parents. Always out for a good time. Drinking, smoking, and chasing his next thrill, whether that’s in the form of drugs, booze, or sex. Neither one of my parents has kept a steady job in their lives. They’ve also never been sober longer than a day or faithful to each other longer than a week. I’m not even one hundred percent positive Adam, Zuri, and I have the same father.
Speaking of my little sister, I need to check on her. I tap on her bedroom door and wait for her to answer.
“Come in,” her soft voice calls out.
I open the door and poke my head in. “Hey, Z.”
She’s lying on her stomach on the floor, coloring a unicorn she drew herself. “Hey, Ash.”
“Sorry if you heard me yelling.”
“He needed it.” She’s only eleven. She shouldn’t know about the shit Adam’s doing. But I’m not naïve enough to think I can protect her from seeing and hearing everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if Zuri knows more about what he’s doing than I do. If I could stand to hear her tell me what she knows, I’d try to find out more information on what our brother is up to while I’m at work. It would break my heart if she confessed all that she does know. At least at this point, I can have a shadow of a doubt that she still has some innocence when it comes to our parents and brother’s many vices.
Zuri was the biggest surprise in all our lives. She’s fifteen years younger than me. Technically, I’m old enough to be her father, and she’s eleven years younger than Adam. Mom wanted a name that began with the letter Z because she said she’s the last and final one. She got her tubes tied after Zuri, even though she said she shouldn’t have been able to have her in the first place. I agree with that, but not because of her age. She just shouldn’t have had children to begin with. My mother’s not a bad person per se, but her priorities are all kinds of fucked. My father… Well, it depends on who you ask. You want someone to party with? Great guy. You want someone to be a contributing member of society? Piece of shit. He provides just enough for this family to scrape by on. No steady work, just odds and ends. Same with Mom, but she will at least have moments of clarity, and it’s almost like she suddenly remembers she has children. She’ll have a good, solid five minutes of feigning concern or interest in what we’ve been doing with our lives while she was out of it.
When Adam was barely two and I was just six years old, I’d often been left to watch him on my own. I had no clue what to do. Old Man Brown’s wife was still alive back then, and they didn’t live too far away. I’d half-carry, half-drag Adam to their house so we’d get a decent meal. She’d check his diaper. I’m sure it was them who called Social Services from time to time. But nothing ever came of those calls. They’d check in, and my parents would straighten up for enough time to give false hope that they were “caring parents.” It was a joke. I did the best I could with what I had and was grateful for the good people around who’d offer us help behind my parents’ backs. By the time I was ten, I was taking on little jobs for money, and I’ve been working ever since.
Zuri hasn’t quite known the same hardship Adam and I went through. She came so much later, and we were both there to help with her. Sometimes I blame myself for how Adam is; maybe I didn’t try hard enough or I did something wrong. Now I’m determined to see to it that Zuri doesn’t stray or head down the wrong path. I failed with Adam, that’s clear, but I can do right by Zuri. I’ll do the best I can to make it up to Adam—any way I can. Somehow, I will. At least it’s not too late for Zuri. She’s going to have a better life than all of us. She’ll never be hungry, never live in fear, and she’ll never doubt she’s loved. And she’ll certainly never turn to booze, drugs, or a bed partner for comfort. Because she’ll have all the happiness in the world.
“Don’t you have horseback riding lessons in thirty minutes?”
She stops coloring her unicorn and looks up at me with those big round blue eyes, the ones that are unlike anybody else’s in the family. She’s definitely not Dad’s.
“Instead of you working so hard for me to have lessons, why don’t I clean and help with the horses to pay for my lessons myself?”
Maybe she’s not Mom’s either…
“Zuri.” I kneel down. “Hey, where’s this coming from?”
“I’m not stupid, Ash. You’re exhausted. You work all the time. You don’t have a girlfriend, and you barely have friends. Meanwhile, I’m out here riding a horse off into the sunset. It’s not right. I don’t want to be like them. I want to help you.”
Her words have my chest tightening and tears building in my eyes. “The fact that you even care proves you’re nothing like them. Don’t worry about me. You worry about learning to ride. Then you can start your own horseback riding tours, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She bites her bottom lip, and her eyes light up. It’s her dream to give tours of the island on horseback.
“All right, then. I’m going to finish getting ready, and you do the same. I’ll drop you off on my way to work. I’ll ask Gia’s mom to give you a ride home.” Zuri wrinkles her nose at that, so I ask, “What’s the problem?”
“Gia’s mom always asks me lots of questions about you. I think she likes you. Are you going to be her boyfriend?”
Since I’m the one who deals with all of Zuri’s friends’ moms, this isn’t the first time a single mother, divorcée, or bored housewife has shown interest. I have enough on my plate, no room for relationships or complications. I flirt enough to keep them happy and helping with Zuri, but there’s no way I’m getting mixed up romantically with any of them.
“No. Now get ready.”
* * *
I’m working on Old Man Brown’s boat, and there’s still no sign of that dipshit Adam. It’s tourist season, so I wouldn’t doubt it if he’s found a warm body for his amusement. Heaven help any girl that falls victim to his charms. As if on cue, I hear the sweetest laughter, and it has my head popping up and searching for the source—or should I say Adam’s next victim.
No. The girl from the bakery. Sugar. Fran and her niece are walking along the shoreline. It’s hard to believe that’s her niece, that she’s related to Fran Fuller. Then again, look at me and Zuri… then the rest of our bunch. You can’t judge a person by who they’re related to, that’s for sure.
I want to yell out and warn the poor girl, but it’s too late. Adam’s not only spotted her, but by the way he’s putting forth more effort than usual, she’s officially become his prime target. Her dimwitted aunt is standing by as Adam weasels his way up to them. Despite her own history with Adam, she can’t resist hist flattery. A few of Adam’s buddies join them, which only increases my aggravation. It’s like Sugar is bait to lure all the male attention their way. Should I go intervene? I could yell at Adam to get over here and get to work. Too late, my mouth opens right as he guides her to a jet ski.
I hurry and stand up to watch. Sugar looks nervous, rightfully so. Adam is wild and a complete maniac with anything that has an engine. I barely trust him with a lawn mower. She seems like a smart girl, but not wise enough to tell my brother no and run like hell in the opposite direction.
