by Hart, Rebel
That we’d both be okay here.
I shrugged. “Well, can we apply today, then?”
My stepmom stepped forward. “Yes. I’m prepared to apply today, if we can.”
Matthew smiled. “I’ll do you one better. The place is yours if you can pay the deposit today. Equivalent to first month’s rent.”
I nodded. “Done.”
Cecilia smiled brightly. “Will you accept a direct transfer? Or Paypal? Or anything like that?”
Matthew chuckled. “We can do Paypal. Let’s get back to the office and get it set up. We’ll get you confirmed before you leave here today.”
The air smelled fresher as we rushed back to the front office. Cecilia transferred the money and I practically forced her to let me cover half of it. Going in together, so she knew I was coming with her. Moving in with her. Staying with her. We sat there in Matthew’s office as everything percolated. As Paypal loaded and emails were sent off and confirmations sat there, pending.
Then, things started dinging on the screen.
My electronic transfer dumped into Cecilia’s bank account. The apartment complex got our deposit. Our confirmation number popped up on screen and Cecilia laughed with joy. I wrapped my arm around her, pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. This was fantastic. Finally, things seemed to be looking up for the two of us.
“All right. So, when do you two want to move in?”
Matthew’s question brought a still to the room as Cecilia sat up.
“Is it possible for us to move in soon?”
He shrugged. “That depends. How soon?”
I butted in. “Two weeks from yesterday sound okay?”
“So, not this coming Sunday, but the Sunday after?”
Cecilia nodded. “Yes. Do you guys do move-ins on Sunday?”
Matthew typed around on his keyboard before a smile crossed his face.
“We do now. Just put myself on the schedule to be here in two Sundays to welcome you guys to the property. Once you get here, I’ll hand over the keys and we’ll sign the lease agreement then.”
Cecilia clapped her hands. “This is fantastic! Thank you so much, Matthew. Really.”
I nodded. “But the apartment is ours even though the lease isn’t signed?”
He nodded. “Yes, sir. That money secured your spot. It’s yours, as of two Sundays from now.”
And the sigh of relief that left my mouth relaxed me from head to toe.
36
Raelynn
“Sweetie, can you pass me the—”
I tossed her the seasoning. “Catch!”
“Girl! Wai—shit!”
I giggled. “You owe me another cookie.”
Mom glared at me. “You’re doing this intentionally now.”
“What? What did you think would happen when you promised cookies for whoever cleaned up their cursing first?”
“Look, all I’m saying is that it’s not becoming for either of us to walk around dropping ‘fuck’ and ‘damn it’ all throughout the day.”
I grinned. “Do those words count toward the deal?”
She slowly looked over at me. “No. They don’t.”
I snickered. “Fine. I’ll let you off the hook this time.”
As I stood at the stove, saucing up the enchiladas, I giggled to myself. Things with Mom were going wonderfully. After shopping yesterday, though, Mom came to the conclusion that both of us cursed too much. Between getting poked with earrings, dropping jewelry on the floor, and looking at the prices of some accessories, she thought we needed to tone down our language a bit. So, we made a bet: whoever could go the next week and curse the least got to have their choice of cookies with ice cream next weekend. Complete with their own movie night that the other had to suffer through.
And since I had no intent on changing how I spoke, my goal was to make Mom curse more than me. You know, by pissing her off and shit.
“What other meals did you find that were under three bucks a pop to make?”
I scooped the enchiladas out. “All sorts of things. Buffalo chicken wings with mashed potatoes. Vegetable stir fry. Burgers and sweet potato fries. The list goes on really. It’s all about cooking it in-house. I’ve found a cheap recipe for just about everything I know you like, with the exception of steak. Steak just isn’t cheap.”
Mom shrugged. “Eh, steak can be one of those things we go out and treat ourselves to.”
“I’m fine with that. Because while it might look easy to cook, it’s also easy to fuck up. And I don’t think either of us want to sink twelve bucks a pop into steaks only to make them like hockey pucks.”
I felt Mom grinning at me and I rolled my eyes. I tossed the rice into the enchilada pan and started cooking it up a bit. Letting it soak up all those juices. We had some in the back of the fridge that had been sitting there for a couple of days. It needed to be eaten, otherwise it would spoil. And if there was one thing Mom had ingrained into me, it was the fact that food had to be eaten. Never spoiled. Never thrown away. And never, ever wasted.
“Pretty sure that makes us even now.”
I snickered. “Not even close. I heard you upstairs trying to wrangle your clothes off.”
“Wait, what?”
I tossed her a smile. “What? You think I wouldn't hear? I don’t know what the hell you were wearing up there, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got the whole night to let my tongue fly before we’re even again.”
“You were spying on me? You little—!”
I held up my finger. “Uh, uh, uh. Do you want your cookies next weekend, or mine?”
“Your cookies suck. Who likes oatmeal raisin?”
“I suppose the same people who don’t like cinnamon pecan cookies. You weirdo.”
The two of us started giggling at the stove. Mom swatted me playfully with a rag before she took the black beans off the stove. She started setting the table, with the rice almost ready in this beautiful enchilada flavoring. The sauce created this rich red color that went perfectly with the black of the beans and the red and white of the enchilada. With the salad Mom quickly whipped up, we had all sorts of colors on that table. Complete with some orange soda we found at the back of the pantry.
Though we said a small prayer over it. Because we had no idea how long it had been back in that pantry.
Mom cracked the soda open. “Bless this soda, Lord, for I know not where it comes from.”
I snickered. “So dramatic. The worst it can do is burn holes in our throats.”
Mom started pouring the drinks just as a knock came at the door. I furrowed my brow and she looked at me, but I saw her tense. Which put me on alert. I knew we weren’t completely out of the woods with D.J. yet. We knew there was a possibility he’d be back.
“Want me to get the door, Mom?”
Then a soothing voice fell down the hallway.
“Rae! It’s me!”
I gasped. “Clint.”
I rushed to the door and ripped it open. I smiled as I lunged myself into his arms. He held me tightly as he spun me around. And I peppered his cheek with kisses.
“What are you doing here?” I murmured.
“Your mom wanted to surprise you tonight with me coming over for dinner.”
I paused. “Since when do you and my mom talk?”
“Since he came over late the other night to check on us.”
Mom’s voice caused my brow to furrow. “What?”
Clint settled me to my feet. “I was worried about you two after D.J. left. I tried going home, but Cecilia knew there was something on my mind. So we did a little drive-by just in case he came back or something.”
“You—you did?”
Mom rubbed my back. “Yep. He did. Came up and knocked on the door and everything.”
Clint grinned. “Your mom invited me to dinner tonight with you two after my worries settled a bit.”
“Which I think is really cute, how he wanted to check in on us,” she whispered.
I cupped his cheek
. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
Mom reached for his hand. “Plus, I want to get to know him more. I hope you like enchiladas, Clint. Because it’s a family recipe, and it’s what’s for dinner.”
“Sounds fantastic, Miss Cleaver.”
“Nonsense. Call me Lucy.”
Clint’s eyes widened. “Oh! I brought these.”
I watched him reach for the chair on the porch and him pick up two gorgeous bouquets of flowers. One of them, green and white with dusted gold, he handed to Mom. And the other one, filled with beautiful fall colors, reds and yellows and oranges, he handed to me. I slowly looked up at him before burying my nose in the flowers. Oh, they smelled heavenly. Mom reached out with her arm and hugged Clint’s neck, patting him softly on the back.
They murmured to one another, but I didn’t catch what they said.
I did see Mom smiling, though. Which was a very good sign.
“We should get these in some water,” I said.
Mom released Clint. “Definitely. Come on. I’ve got some old vases somewhere in the cabinets.”
Clint stepped inside. “It smells incredible in here.”
I closed the front door. “Mom knows how to throw down in the kitchen.”
She laughed. “I’m teaching Rae how to, though.”
Clint laughed as my jaw dropped open.
“Hey!”
Mom put her hand up. “I’m not saying you can’t cook. You’ve got your dishes you’re good at. But none of them are those traditional recipes that come from your heritage.”
I scoffed. “I think I did just fine with the enchiladas.”
“Yes, you did. After I walked you through the first batch. That’s how you learn, sweetheart.”
Clint snickered. “First batch? Sign me up. I’m starving, and it all sounds delicious.”
I put my hand on his arm. “Just know we aren’t liable for the damage the orange soda does to your throat.”
He paused. “Wait, what?”
Mom and I laughed our way into the kitchen before getting the flowers in some water. Then we all sat down to eat. For the first time in as long as I could remember, it felt like a family again in this house. Mom telling stories to Clint. Him returning the favor with his foot pressed against mine underneath the table. Mom and Clint got along wonderfully. And as the two of them talked, I couldn't stop staring at him.
He had come back to check in on us.
My heart fluttered in my chest at the idea of it.
Mom took a sip of her drink. “So do you have any plans for after school and all that?”
Clint and I paused, staring at her as her eyes danced between us.
“What?” she asked.
Clint narrowed his eyes. “How are you feeling?”
She shrugged. “I feel fine. Why?”
I licked my lips. “So, the soda’s okay to drink?”
She scoffed. “You two are made for one another. Eat your damn food and hush.”
I grinned. “One more point in my favor.”
Clint furrowed his brow. “One point?”
“Let’s get back to the question at hand. I want to know what Clint’s plans for after high school are.”
I looked over at him, trying to let him know that he didn’t have to answer. But he looked confident. Much more confident than I would have been at that question had I been in his shoes.
“Well, Miss Lucy, I know college isn’t for me. Not that I don’t like a good education, but I’m terrible at it. I don't do well in classes with formal testing and things like that. I’m more of a hands-on kinda guy. I think I’d be better suited to start from the bottom somewhere, get certificates as I go along, and work my way up. Learn at the lower level and apply those types of things at upper levels.”
Mom nodded. “That sounds like a plan. Are you staying around here? Or moving away?”
“For now, I’m staying around here. But there are plenty of job offers I can apply for. And I’ll have a small support system in the area with my stepmom and everything like that.”
“Are things going okay at your house, Clint?”
He sighed. “They’re going. I don’t know how much Rae’s told you and all that, but Dad’s selling the house and she doesn’t want to go with him. We’re getting an apartment together on the other side of the high school so I can finish out my senior year.”
“That’s wonderful news.”
He smiled. “Thanks. It took a lot of weight off our shoulders, finding that place. I’m really just playing it by ear right now. But I’m in a good place with money. Dad hasn’t been around to say anything else about it. Thanks to Rae and Allison, things are looking up for my grades.”
Mom reached over and patted his hand. “Well, if you ever need somewhere to go, we don’t have much here. But you’re welcome to it.”
I nodded as my eyes found Clint.
“Yeah. You’re always welcome here. Okay?”
He smiled gratefully. “I really appreciate it. Thank you.”
“You seem like a great boy, Clint. I’m glad my daughter found someone like you. It was very sweet of you to check in on us the other night.”
He shook his head. “It’s not a problem. I was worried, so I figured I’d stop by. That’s it.”
“Well, thank you for it.”
I nodded quickly. “Yes, thank you for doing that. Even though I didn’t know shit about it.”
We all laughed softly before we went back to eating. Mom and Clint went back and forth with questions, warming my heart as to how well the two of them got along. I felt full of sunshine. Full of hope. Full of happiness instead of despair. We scarfed down dinner and he helped us clean up, washing dishes for me to dry while Mom put away the leftovers. We each poured ourselves some more orange soda before popping some popcorn. Then we settled ourselves in the living room for a movie.
Thankfully, I got Mom to put on a comedy instead another one of her romantic comedies. Which meant Clint and I wouldn't be bored out of our minds.
Mom stood up. “Oh, I forgot napkins. Does anyone want a napkin?”
I nodded. “Yes, please.”
Clint murmured with his mouth full. “Mm-hmm. Please.”
I snickered as Mom made her way out of the living room. I heard Clint swallow hard before he chugged back his soda. Then he gripped my chin.
“I’ve been waiting all night to do this.”
He guided my lips to his and his tongue fell against the roof of my mouth. I shivered against him, moaning softly as his lips pressed against mine. I opened myself for him. I tasted him for the first time that night and I felt heat pooling in my gut. I lifted my hand to cup his cheek, stroking the stubble on his jawline. Blood rushed through my ears, drowning out the sound of the movie as the entire world faded away.
That is, until Mom cleared her throat.
“Shit,” I hissed.
She tossed the napkins at me. “Save that for a time when I’m not here, got it?”
I giggled. “Got it, Mom.”
“My apologies, Miss Lucy.”
She pointed at Clint. “Protection, young man. Use it.”
My eyes widened. “Mom.”
“I don’t care that she’s on birth control. Use it.”
My jaw dropped open. “Mom!”
Clint laughed. “Noted, Miss Lucy.”
“Good.”
And as Mom fell back down beside me on the couch, I wanted to curl up and die from embarrassment.
37
Clinton
ClintonTwo Weeks Later
I sighed as I stood in the empty, grand foyer of the house I grew up in. I’d call it a ‘childhood home,’ except that it held nothing positive. No memories of Thanksgiving dinners where families laughed around a table. No family breakfasts where we all talked about our upcoming day. No sitting around a television watching the news. No movie nights.
Just destruction. And darkness. And death.
“I won’t miss you one bit,” I murmured.
I looked over my shoulder, out through the open front door. There Cecilia sat in her new SUV. Even after trading in her cherry red luxury vehicle this past week, she was able to purchase a new car with money still going back into her pocket. An affordable, family SUV. With regular fabric seats, a basic Bluetooth interface, an extended overall warranty, and twenty grand more in her bank account. No payments. No hassle. No fuss.
And sadly enough, all of our things fit into the damn car.
“Take your time, Clint!”
Cecilia’s voice ripped me from my trance and I waved at her. I turned my gaze back into the house and slowly started walking around. Down the hallway leading into the kitchen. Back around into the living room. I walked upstairs, making sure we hadn’t left anything behind. No jewelry. No chargers. No random pairs of socks. Nothing like that.
And when I got to my bedroom, I sighed.
Everything looked so empty. What Cecilia and I didn’t sell off, Dad had sold off himself. He didn’t even seem to notice the lack of silverware. Or china. Or items in the attic. He emptied the house for the new owners, who were due to move in tomorrow morning. Empty.
That was the definition of this house.
I walked back downstairs and slid an envelope out of my pocket. I set it on the one piece of furniture that had stayed behind. A curio in the corner of the foyer Dad hadn’t sold yet. I remember that curio distinctly. I remember the day Mom bought it. Right out of a thrift shop that angered Dad to no end.
We buy new, sweetheart. We don’t have to rummage through people’s garbage.
Does it have termites?
It looks diseased. Take it back.
I’ll buy you a better one for your birthday. Just get it out of my house.
That curio symbolized everything. It was the one fight my mother won over my father. The one fight where my father actually gave in. Granted, he left us alone for three weeks after telling Mom she wasn’t welcome on his latest business trip to China. But that didn’t matter. To her, that curio symbolized her strength. Her ability to put her foot down.
