I rolled my eyes. Then she yawned, stretched, and slid out from under Fran, cradling her head and pushing a blanket under it like a pillow. I took the cue and stood up, my sexy nemesis stood beside me and stretched provocatively, I'm sure on purpose. It did things to me that nobody else ever had. I should say something, right? So it doesn't get awkward with nobody talking. I'll use a nickname for her, how about... damn, I still got nothing. Kat came to the rescue and said, “I haven't had this much fun in years. Thanks, Van. I'm not as young as I used to be, I'm beat!” Why the hell can Kat use a nickname and I can't?
Vanessa shrugged. Kat was looking at the old game boxes that had seen better days. Vanessa nodded as if they were in the middle of a conversation. “Fran kept those all these years. They had been ours before we were placed in a foster home. She always made sure they were in her two boxes she was allowed whenever we had to be moved around. She sacrificed a lot of space for them.”
She looked at her sister and stepped over and made sure she was covered and comfortable then said in a wistful tone, “She says they hold our happy times.”
I added the games I had brought to the little stack. Then I stood and said, “We better get going before Kat turns into a pumpkin or something. The police frown upon pumpkins driving cars.”
I looked at Vanessa who was glowering at the games. She really couldn't accept people giving them things could she? Pride? I said in a chirpy voice, “Those hold our happy times now too. Small Fry will take care of them.”
Vanessa sighed and tried to fight back a smile as she said, “Manipulative bitch.”
Kat nodded with an evil grin. “So she is.”
I pouted. “Hey, is it pick on June day?”
They both nodded and said in unison, “Yes.”
I grinned and shook my head at their playfulness and headed toward the loose siding with the trash from our meal. Leaving the chips and the rest of the cola behind. Vanessa ran in front of us and poked her head outside and looked around. She said in a hushed tone, “They're always watching.” Then she stepped out and held the steel siding for us as we exited the garage.
I stood up and she was in my face again, her lips almost brushing mine as she said hotly, “I have to spin tomorrow night, well tonight, but Sunday is park day.” An invitation? I hadn't planned on being in New York this long, but I wouldn't pass up a chance to see this woman again. I nodded and tried again to sample her lips just to be denied as I kissed her cheek that was now in their place. Dammit, she's fast!
She shot me a knee-buckling smile as she turned away and said to Kathleen, “It was a pleasure to meet you Kat, thanks for putting up with us tonight.”
My friend just nodded with a grin. “It was my pleasure. To be honest I was a little nervous when I found out where you called home, but I am so glad I came. Fran is a delight. She's going to be a heart-breaker when she gets older.”
She stood there in the alley and just watched us go. She got into an argument with someone just before we turned the corner and I winced as I saw her slapping her head again.
Chapter 8 – Central Park
When we woke up at o too-damn-early in the morning, for Kat to get to work for a short shift; didn't she ever stop? I told her I'd be looking for a hotel for the rest of my unexpectedly extended stay. I didn't want to put a burden on her. She almost gave me a smack-down. Her hands were flying as she signed, “You'd really insult me by moving out to a musty old hotel room? You're family JW, the guest room is yours as long as you need it.”
I smiled warmly at her and signed, “I love you lady. Thanks.”
She grinned and signed, “Love you too twit.” Then promptly left for the coffee house. I snorted and smiled after her.
After I made some coffee and woke up a bit, I pulled my iPad out of the guest room and started catching up on the news. I don't know when, but near noon I found myself hip deep in research into paranoid schizophrenia. It was terrible. It wasn't just one thing as I had originally thought, there was a huge spectrum of schizophrenia.
Some of the worst flavors included vivid hallucinations. Psychotic breaks could cause violent behavior. It was an affliction that just kept giving. It didn't just affect the person with it, it affected their families and more often than not, tore the families apart, or drove loved ones into depression watching them suffer.
Most cases are treatable with drugs or counseling or both. Extreme cases require extended stays in mental institutions until the patient can come to terms with it and learn to manage it with the anti-psychotics. Paranoia often accompanies the affliction. While some drugs and anti-depressants can take the edge off, there is always some varying degree of it that is always present.
This was depressing. I really felt for these people. It wasn't anything they did or anything they chose, it was thrust upon them against their will and they had to live with it. It got me thinking about Mom and Kat. It was no different than someone who is deaf or blind. They aren't defined by their affliction though most people treat them that way.
I wandered out at lunch to a local sandwich shop. My mind kept drifting to a certain honey haired DJ. I never obsessed about someone like this before. I could still feel the whispering contact of her lips on mine as she spoke.
Should I go watch her spin some songs tonight or would that seem like I'm following her around? She didn't really invite me, but she sort of did invite me to the park tomorrow. I'd just wait until then. Hey, wait a minute, why am I doing everything she asks me to? I thought of the emotions that swirled around her sparkling eyes and I had my answer. Good god! Had I fallen for someone I had just met? I shook my head, no I'm just crushing here. Settle down June.
I got back to Kat's in time for her arrival back home. We spent the rest of the afternoon discussing what we have heard about the rest of Junes Eight since the last time we were all together for Hank and AJ's wedding. Fine whatever, their names are Samantha and Abbey, nicknames are more fun. I don't think I have seen two people more meant for each other than them, they gave us all hope of a happily ever after.
It felt sort of odd just sitting down and relaxing and not having to be anywhere or do something. I was always on the move. But this felt nice just kicking back with an old friend, ordering in some Chinese food and just watching some television. Kat reached over and slapped my shoulder a time or two when I got fidgety with my need to be on the move, doing something.
We fell asleep on the couch around eleven, with our heads on either arm of the couch. Again, how pathetic, getting older sucks, just a few years ago we were always up all night with virtually no fatigue. Now here were two of June's Eight, sound asleep on the couch before midnight. But I had to admit, I felt great Sunday morning with a full night's sleep.
I got ready for the day and came out to find Kat had changed into her pajamas while I had showered. I tilted my head at her in question and she grinned hugely at me from behind the cup of coffee she was drinking. “I have no place to be today, so I'm going to lounge around in my PJs all day and drink coffee and eat things that are bad for me.”
I grinned then signed, “You aren't coming with? Park day.” She was warming her hands on her coffee mug so she just spoke. “No. You were the one invited and besides...” She left it hanging in the air.
Her smile got larger and I shook my head and my hands flashed out, “I hate you.”
Her smile didn't change. “No, you love me.”
I squinted one eye and scrunched up my nose and signed, “Fine, I love you. But you're mean. Nothing is going on.”
She shrugged and sipped her coffee like she had just won something. I gave her a puffer-fish face and then broke into a smile at her antics. Then I said without signing, “I think I liked you better when we first met, all shy and introverted.”
She shrugged and said with a smirk, “No JW, you don't.”
I sighed and smiled at her as I headed to the door admitting, “No, I don't. See you later then. I'll text when I know what the plans are and when I'll be back.
”
She called out as I shut the door, “Don't do anything I wouldn't do!” I snorted at the evil, evil woman, then stepped to the curb and whistled down a cab.
I wasn't sure what time I was supposed to be there, and they didn't have a phone, but I arrived at the auto shop at just before nine. I made my way into the alley and tapped lightly on the siding. After a minute, Vanessa poked her head out holding her bar of metal.
She blushed and put the improvised club down and then poked my arm with her finger tentatively then held the metal siding back for me to enter. She chirped out, “I didn't think you were going to come.”
I looked at her. “Why wouldn't I?”
She looked at the office where I could see Fran putting on a light jacket. “Frannie said I didn't exactly ask. I thought I did, so I told her we'd wait till nine just in case.”
I grinned. “I thought it was implied.”
Then comically she turned to yell at her sister, “See? I did ask her you little runt!”
Fran looked out the windows of the office with a huge smile. She came running out and gave me a hug, squealing, “June!”
I smiled and hugged her back. “How's things Small Fry?”
She stepped back beside her sister and tried to act all cool. “You know, same ol’ same ol’.” Vanessa and I broke out laughing. Which only put a silly grin on Fran's face. Then she said, “Sunday is park day.”
I nodded then Vanessa poked her head back out the opening and looked around nervously. I laid my hand on her shoulder from behind and gave a reassuring squeeze. Her stance relaxed a little and she said, “Hurry, before they see.”
We exited the building and she checked to make sure the loose siding was back in place then we started walking toward Central Park. I looked between the two sisters. “So what does park day entail?”
Fran answered, “Van says I need fresh air, exercise, and nature and not be hiding in the garage all the time. So Sundays we go to the park and just spend the day walking around in it.”
I grinned, that sounded like something my honey-haired obsession would do. It is like she centers her life around her little sister. I could understand that. Then I looked at them. “You two have breakfast yet? I'm starving.”
Vanessa looked away and Fran just dug in her little book bag she was carrying and pulled out a fistful of granola bars with a grin like it was treasure. I nodded in appreciation then asked, “How bout we get some brunch before we hit the park? My treat.”
Vanessa turned on me. “We don't need charity.”
I held my hands up in a placating gesture then and then asked, “You got two dollars from the med fund?”
She nodded slowly with a wary look on her face. I put my hand out to her and rubbed my thumb against my fingers and said with a grin, “Good, hand it over. You're buying.”
Then something unexpected happened when Vanessa first stared at me like I were insane, then nodded once to her sister. Vanessa didn't hand any money over. Instead Fran dug in her book bag and came out with the two dollars. She held their money? Then I thought about it a bit and understood, and it broke my heart a little more. A life on the street, so many things could happen that could separate them, this was a fail-safe to make sure Fran was ok if anything ever happened. I stared at the woman and her crystal blues captured me.
Fran asked, “Brunch for three for two dollars?”
I nodded with a grin as I altered our course toward Times Square. I said in a hushed tone like I was sharing a secret. “In New York, if you have two dollars, you have the key to the entire city.”
We hit the fringes of the street vendors and I found a table that was made of two large cardboard boxes that had a black slash drawn across them. A tablecloth was on top of the boxes like a little table where there were stacks of souvenir t-shirts. I stuffed the two dollars in my pocket and winked down at Fran and stepped to the table.
I knew the slashes on the boxes were made at the factory, indicating these were factory seconds. Some minor problem with stitching or missing tags. You can buy entire boxes of these shirts direct from the factory floor for pennies on the dollar. In an average, they paid a quarter to fifty cents each for them. I looked at the four dollars each or three for ten dollars sign and looked at the guy standing behind the boxes.
I sifted through the shirts finding two that just had tags sewn in crooked and put them over my shoulder. “How much?” He pointed at the sign and I shook my head, rolling my eyes. “How much?”
This time he really took a look at me, then he said, “Five bucks for the two.” I took them off my shoulder and just put them back on the table and started stepping away with the girls without a word. The guy grabbed them off the table and held them toward me, “Four?”
I stopped and turned toward him then reached into my pocket saying, “Look all I got is...” I looked at my hand like I didn't know how much was there. “Two. You'll be doubling your money on these factory seconds.”
He looked pissed but glanced between the money in my hand and the shirts in his. He exhaled in frustration and just snatched the money from my hands and shoved the t-shirts toward me from the stack and made a shooing motion. Mumbling “Goddamn New Yorkers buying tourist shit.”
I grabbed the two shirts and put them over my shoulder then grabbed the hands of two confused sisters and dragged them deeper into the Square where more tourists were gathered around the street vendors. Vanessa asked, “We're eating shirts for brunch? I thought I was the crazy one.”
We were all silent at her joke. Then I smiled and said, “Yes, we just need a few more ingredients.” I paused at a little card table that had all sorts of souvenirs. The lady only had one t-shirt left on the table. She had been doing good today. A street vendor would always keep the stacks high unless they were out of something. She needed shirts but didn't have any immediately available. I squeezed my way in with the top end factory seconds and came away with four New York ballcaps instead.
The ladies were getting more confused until about fifteen minutes and three trades later and we had twelve heavy I heart NY hoodies. I hit a vendor who was selling the same hoodies for nineteen dollars each and stepped beside him and said in a Jersey accent, “I'm cutting out for the day, have stock left over. Got a dozen... ten each? Double your money?”
The guy got a predatory look on his face and the wheeling and dealing started. I stepped back a minute later and handed Fran a cool hundred in tens. Then I looked between the two with a silly grin and said, “Now... Feed me?”
Fran looked amazed and Vanessa laughed out loud. It was like music to my soul as she slowed down to giggles through her smile, shaking her head. “Two dollars.”
I gave my cheesiest grin. “Hey, it's New York.” Then I batted my eyelashes. “Brunch?” This got more of that wonderful laughter.
We headed back uptown toward the park and Fran was still deep in thought. “You made a hundred dollars in just under a half hour. In a day, you could like, own the world.”
I smiled at her and said, “Not really, that was about as far as we could have taken it. Plus you don't want to do it too often or they start recognizing you and you get less and less out of each deal. This is their bread and butter. They would much rather triple or quadruple their money off of tourists than barely double their money off of a trader.”
Now if you could find a good floating Three Card Monty game in the Square, then you can make some serious cash. But even that is a one shot. You out-hustle a hustler and they will never play you again. Think of this as an emergency cash sort of thing that you can do from time to time. In this case, the emergency is brunch.
We shared a three way smile and walked for a bit. In a three way conversation about the city, well four way from time to time in Vanessa's case. Whoever was talking to her didn't seem like a nice person.
We hit an all you can eat brunch buffet at Finnegan's, just a block from the park. Vanessa got a bunch of disapproving looks from people and staff there because of her raggedy cl
othing, but she didn't seem to notice. I grinned as Fran proudly produced the twelve dollars a plate at the door for us. Then I happily watched the two ladies scarf down their first plateful then go up for seconds and thirds. I was just happy with one modest sized plate and then went up for a cinnamon roll for dessert. Those frosting slathered pasties are to die for. I may erect a shrine for them later on and start a religion around their worship, possibly The Church of Cinnamon Unbound.
I asked Vanessa, “What's the word about last night? A success? Any new talent?”
She grinned as she licked her spoon cutely. “Yes a success. And I don't work for you so no comment on the second part.”
Fran rolled her eyes and grinned. “She spun up a new mix yesterday to try out on the crowds. Some gal with a frickin awesome voice. Van mixed some wicked beats to her voice, added tons of bass.”
I grinned at the pride she had in her big sister and I turned to the Small Fry. “Well, since your sister is such a party pooper...” Which got me Vanessa sticking her tongue out at me as I continued, “Local talent? The underground scene?”
The young girl just scrunched up her nose and shrugged, “Dunno, I never heard her before and Vannie won't talk about her. But it was kickin'.”
Now I was intrigued, but the smug blonde was right, she didn't work for me, I'd have to scout my own talent. Not a big deal though since I was going to be targeting London artists. But still if this woman caught Vanessa's ear, maybe Mother would be interested in for Harmony Traxx.
I quickly found that no amount of poking, prodding, or teasing could pry the name out of the smiling woman. She wouldn't even let me listen to the mix. Grrrr.
We finished up and I and the two satisfied and content looking sisters walked toward Central Park. I purposefully looked around Vanessa to Fran and said, “Thank you so much for brunch, it really hit the spot.” To which Vanessa just bumped her shoulder into my back, almost causing me to stumble. I bumped hips with her and shot her a grin.
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