by Dee Garcia
“And that’s the problem—I need them to take me seriously, especially the seniors. Sure, they confide in me because ‘I’m cool enough to understand them,’ but warnings and all that go in through one ear and out the other.”
“So don’t play the cool card,” I counter, taking a bite from my half-eaten burger.
“I don’t do it purposely! Most of them know I’m only ten years their senior which, evidently, gives me the cool card by default.” She rolls her eyes, lips pursed at the notion.
I’m about to respond when my phone vibes on the table. Both Vida and I cut our eyes to the screen.
Calla: I need a huge favor…
Wonderful.
I sigh. Just the sight of her name immediately puts a dent in my mood, but judging the text preview, it doesn’t seem to be related to Mila.
Therefore, she can fucking wait.
“Answer her,” Vida encourages, offering a shrug at my curious brow. “It may be important.”
“I doubt it. Probably needs a loan or something. She can wait.” I wave her off, but her small hand falls to my wrist, jeweled eyes seeking me out.
“Answer her. It’s okay.” She smiles.
Resigned, I wipe my hands clean and type out a quick response. I refuse to waste my time with Vida on her.
Me: What’s that?
Three little bubbles instantly pop up on my screen. They disappear just a quickly, then re-appear again. Her reply comes through shortly after.
Calla: Chrissy’s mother-in-law was just diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer and she’s refusing any sort of treatment. It’s aggressive. They’re giving her months, if that. Brett’s leaving tonight, but Chrissy can’t get the time off, so she’s driving up there Friday after work. I’d like to go with her, but it’s too long of a drive for Mila and a grim situation I don’t want her around. I was wondering if she could spend the weekend with you since you’re off?
I feel my jaw drop as I read and re-read the last part of her message. Her sister’s mother-in-law receiving such a ghastly diagnosis is terrible, but I can’t get past what I’m seeing at the end.
Is this real-fucking-life?
“Is everything okay?” Vida asks across from me, clearly alarmed at stunned expression.
“She…” I glance up at her. “She asked if Mila could spend the weekend.”
Green eyes widen. She knows somewhat about Calla and our situation, hence her reaction. I nod in agreement, my thumbs moving over the keyboard of their accord.
Me: You’re really asking me?
Calla: I mean, you’re her father… I’d ask my mom but she’s on vacation with her girlfriends.
Me: No, I mean do you really think you need to ask me? I’ve been trying to get you to let me have her for a full weekend since she was born. Of course she can stay with me.
Me: I’m sorry to hear about Chrissy’s MIL, by the way. She’s a sweet woman. So sad.
“Her sister’s mother-in-law was just diagnosed with breast cancer, Stage 3, and she’s refusing treatment,” I start explaining to Vida, whose hand shoots up to her mouth. “Calla wants to go with her to visit the woman over the weekend, but it’s a long drive and she doesn’t really want her there given the circumstances.”
“That’s heartbreaking.”
“It is. I’ve met her—she’s very sweet.”
“Is it wrong that I’m happy you get to have Mila though?” she murmurs, a wave of guilt emanating off her.
“No.” I shake my head. “Because I’m over here thinking the—”
Calla’s reply leaves the words hanging on the tip of my tongue. I lift a finger and Vida nods, taking a long sip from her chocolate milkshake.
Calla: Thank you, thank you, thank you! Chrissy really didn’t want to make the drive alone and I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to go. You’re saving the day right now!
Calla: And yeah, it’s devastating. She’s too young to die.
Me: Our story is written long before we’re born. Some of ours are shorter than others, unfortunately.
Me: And thank you for finally coming around. I know it’s because your mom isn’t in town, but still. You have no idea what this means to me.
Once the “delivered” prompt shows up beneath my last message, I lock the phone and set it back on the table, shaking my head in disbelief.
“I honestly can’t believe this,” I mumble, pushing my plate away.
“From what you’ve told me, I’m shocked for you, too, but in a good way,” Vida answers.
“Never thought I’d see the day. It’s an unfortunate situation, but, well, you know.”
Vida nods and pushes her plate away. “May be the wrong time to ask this, but are you ever going to tell me what happened with you two?”
“I can, but it’s a long story.”
The waitress shows up then, asking if she can clear the table. I tip my head with a small smile and turn back to an expectant Vida.
She leans back into the plush red leather of the booth. “Just give me CliffsNotes.”
It’s not exactly a story I want to re-tell right now, but it’s not like I have anything to hide. I still don’t regret my decision… “Calla and I met in high school. We were friends the whole way through, didn’t start dating until senior prom. After we graduated, things got serious, and a few years in, we were expecting Mila. Everything was great, until we started looking for places and realized we couldn’t afford it on my small salary from the mechanic shop. Calla wasn’t working because she was going to school full time and lived at home with her parents. And the place I was living in? A hole in the wall. There’s no way we could have fit a baby in there.”
“So why not move in with her parents for a while?” Vida asks.
“Because they wouldn’t allow it. They didn’t have an issue with our relationship or the unexpected pregnancy. They just didn’t want us playing house under their roof.”
Vida eyes me dubiously, like it’s the stupidest thing she’s ever heard, and I can do is agree.
Because it is.
Calla’s parents refusing to help us was the catalyst of our breakup.
“I brushed it off though. Kept looking for jobs. Then one day,” I scoff, remembering it like it were just yesterday. “One day I was on a coffee run before heading to the shop when I saw a flier for SIX. They were recruiting new dancers. I laughed at first, but the longer that bright blue poster stared me in the face while I waited for my order, the more I thought about checking it out. I mean, do you know how much money strippers make?”
“Insane amounts, I know,” Vida exhorts, motioning for me to continue.
“I went, checked it out. Betty, the owner, basically interviewed me on the spot. Starting salary was more than I could have ever imagined. All I could see were dollar signs, a secure future. Even if I didn’t make this a forever thing, I could still stash enough to ensure we’d never struggle. I went to work from there, was reeling the entire day, anxious to get home and tell Calla we could finally look for a place…”
“But she wasn’t having it.”
“Not in the slightest. I mean, I get it. She was five-months pregnant. Her boyfriend was randomly talking about becoming a stripper, but it’s not like I had any intention of doing her dirty. I just wanted the money. Wanted to provide our family with everything and then some. She wouldn’t hear of it though, gave me an ultimatum to boot. I figured she’d come around, that when she saw the life we could have, the life we could give our baby, my career choice wouldn’t matter. So I made the executive decision and took the job. She left me my first night.”
Vida sighs and presses her lips together. “As a woman, I get her. I do, really. It’s that sense of propriety, that underlying fear that another woman might tempt your man enough to actually seduce him.” Leaning forward, she laces our fingers together, green eyes earnest. “But I get you, too, Jag. Your intentions weren’t malicious, a little misplaced, maybe, but she clearly didn’t trust you. Didn’t trust or believe in yo
ur relationship enough, which is sad and unfortunate when you’d never given her a reason to feel such a way.”
“Can I interest you all in some dessert or are you ready for the bill?” The waitress asks suddenly, putting an end to this shit retelling.
Thank fuck.
Vida shakes her head when I turn to her in question. “I’ll pass on dessert. I think I’ll explode if I eat anything else.”
I chuckle and glance up at the waitress. “The check is fine, thanks.”
Smiling, she sets the bill down on the table and briskly pivots away to go check on another booth.
“How about we save the movie for Friday night?” Vida question as I’m fishing my wallet out from my back pocket. “It’s getting late and I still have a few things I need to do before bed.”
“I’ll have Mila, but she goes to bed around eight-ish. Does nine work for you?”
“Shit, I forgot about that…”
“I don’t mind.” Our stares lock. “In fact, I’d prefer a movie at my place than the theater.” I waggle my eyebrows playfully.
Vida scoffs a laugh through her nose and rolls her eyes, reaching for her purse beside her. “As long as you don’t mind that I’ll be there when she’s there, then fine, your place it is.”
Vida: Don’t hate me…
Me: Why would I hate you?
Vida: Because we’re going to have to reschedule. Three of my seniors were caught smoking out by the football field. I have to meet with their parents after school and I’m not sure what time I’ll be getting home.
