No. I was hooking up with yet another random. Trying to convince myself that my sisters were grown up and living their own lives and they didn’t need me to look after them anymore. Trying to convince myself that I was still living my best life even though I have no idea what that ever looked like, then or now.
What a fucking stupid phrase. Living your best life. What does it even mean? Does it mean that you’re happy? Financial? Employed? I’m definitely one and a half of those three things but what else?
I watch Jen in the ocean, making up with her man despite the fact the entire strip can see them making out like kids in the water, Jen in her underwear, legless, literally, which doesn’t surprise me much. I gather up her shoes and her leg and her jeans and pile them neatly. I squat down and stare at the artificial foot.
Jo squeezes my shoulder and says, “We’ll head back, watch the shop. But don’t be too long. The cops are still hanging around.”
Shit. The cops. We have a pest problem and I need them to take care of it for me before someone gets hurt. “Yeah, I’ll be up in a sec.”
“For what it’s worth,” she says quietly. “I don’t care that you weren’t in the car with us. If you were, one of us would have died. I’d never have made that call if I thought any of this could have happened.”
“I know Jen didn’t mean it,” I tell her, squeezing her hand back but I don’t get up. Not yet.
Jo sighs. “I hope you do.”
We lie to each other about so much. None of us would ever truly cop to it, but we do. Jo keeps telling everyone she’s fine but she’s still jumpy around strangers. Jen says she’s fine too when she’s obviously not. Not really. And neither am I. When my two sisters were rushed to hospital, one by ambulance and one by air, I was having sex. When Jo was lying upside down in the wreck and Jen was being cut from the driver’s seat, where the fuck was I? Fucking. Trying to come to terms with the fact they didn’t need me anymore and that I could finally live as a separate entity to them for the first time since our parent died.
Look how that turned out. Now I spend each and every day making sure they’re okay. Making sure my business stays afloat so they both have jobs and homes. Worrying about them every waking second of my life and some of my nightmares too. Jo has Ash but we all know he isn’t staying in the country indefinitely. Jen found herself a guy who couldn’t be more unsuitable for her if she bloody tried so that doesn’t exactly put me at any kind of ease. They’ll both be crying on my couch before long and I don’t think I have the mental energy to hold it all together anymore.
I’m worried and stressed out all the fucking time. Scared of turning my phone off just in case there’s another accident I won’t know about until I look like the worst sister ever, rocking up at the hospital too fucking little too fucking late.
Black boots fill the left edge of my peripheral and I squeeze my eyes shut and take a few deep breaths.
“Jacqueline?” he says my full name and I also squeeze my legs together. “Are you all right?”
No, I’m not all right. I’m not fine or okay or even dandy. I’m stuck. Stuck in a parental role I never chose and don’t know when to put a stop to it, if I’ll ever be able to put a stop to it. When my sisters eventually get married, have kids, move on, will I still feel this heavy inside? Like their welfare is mine and mine alone to safeguard? Maybe when they start making decisions that don’t have deadly consequences, then I can finally take care of my needs and wants.
It feels so far away.
“Can I do anything for you?” he asks.
I mean to say no thanks but instead I say, “I’m just worried about the shop. You’re already doing everything you can.”
“You know I’m just a phone call away and you’ve got almost every inch of space being filmed twenty-four-seven and monitored when the shop is closed.”
I stand up and turn my back on my sister and her beau in the sea, frolicking, having fun, playing. I give the security specialist my full attention. It’s sweet that he’s worried about me. “I know, I know. I get it. I’ll just rest easier knowing if we’re being targeted by a sick fuck or if it’s just random and the neighbourhood’s going to shit.”
“Probably just the same group of kids coming back because they didn’t get caught the first time,” he says.
“I hope so.” I don’t tell him I’m worried it’s just one person. The tags are the same and the damage seems personal but we haven’t majorly pissed anyone off as far as I know. I wouldn’t be so worried about if I didn’t feel like I was being watched sometimes. That weird feeling you get that’s probably all in your head but could very well be someone hiding in the shadows, watching, waiting.
I shudder and try to shrug it off. I have had a serious case of the heeby jeebies lately and the cameras are supposed to give me peace of mind. He’s trying to give me some peace of mind but he’s also flirty and hot and I do not have the time. I’m already at the top of the Strip’s shit-list since I’m apparently bringing down real estate prices in the area. If I also start something with the newcomer, they’ll be out for blood. The shop owners’ association, of which I’m not apart of even though I technically own my shop, the entire three storey building, would be glad to see the arse-end of me and my sisters but I won’t give them the satisfaction.
For now, I’ll keep doing what I’ve been doing. With a smile on my face. Until a day comes when I can have fun again. When I can play again. When it’s my time in the sun…
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