by J. M. Kelly
“It’s David’s. He left it in my car.”
She glances over, giving me a skeptical look, but then she buckles her seatbelt and settles into her seat. “What was he doing in your car?”
“I was quizzing him. On a break at work.”
That has to be the lamest lie ever, because why would we sit in my car instead of using the break room?
Instead of calling me on it, Amber smiles and raises her eyebrows. “Tell me the truth. What’s going on with you two?”
“Nothing.”
She’s grinning. “Yeah . . . I don’t believe it.”
And then it occurs to me, Why not let her think something’s going on? She’s gotten there on her own, so it’s not like another lie. Still, it seems pretty dangerous because it’s not like I can ask him to pretend—what about his girlfriend? Maybe I can let her think I’m interested and that’s it . . .
Instead of answering right away, I shift into reverse, back out of the parking spot, and head to Jimmy’s. “It’s nothing,” I say again. “But we did go out for coffee a couple of times.”
“On Tuesdays, right?” she asks. She’s still smiling, so I go with it.
“Yeah.”
“I knew it! You could’ve told me. Is that, like, the only night you two both have off from work?”
If I say yes, then this gives me a free pass to keep going to SAT review. “Yeah, we both have Tuesdays off. But, Amber, it’s mostly just a car thing. Nothing’s happened.”
“. . .Yet.”
I feel my face turn red even though I don’t like David that way. “Just don’t say anything at the party, okay?” I ask.
“Mum’s the word,” she says. “You know me. I can totally keep a secret.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re the best that way.”
God, I suck.
When we get to the gas station, I unload Natalie, who’s sleeping in her carrier. As we go in, we pass David on his way to help a customer. Amber gives me an exaggerated wink, and I know I’ve asked for trouble now, but it’s too late to do anything about it.
Friends and family were invited to the potluck, but I’m the only one who brings anyone. Dirk shows up long enough to get his bonus and then leaves. Rosa has to cover the counter and keeps popping in and out for the egg rolls David picked up and the cupcakes Amber made. Raul loads up a plate and eats in a corner by himself. The rest of us sit around the table, talking and stuffing ourselves. Amber maneuvers herself so I’m next to David and gives me another look, which I pretend not to see.
Natalie gets to try a bite of frosting, which she really likes, and whines when we won’t give her more. We try distracting her with some refried beans Amber squeezes out of one of the quesadillas Rosa brought, and the baby loves those, too.
“You’re asking for it,” Jimmy says. “They’re volatile.”
“Yeah. Give her something else, Am, or you’re on diaper duty all night.”
Amber hands Natalie a piece of a tortilla to gnaw on, keeping an eye on her so she doesn’t choke. The baby gets her hands into everything these days, and it’s a battle to keep her from grabbing stuff off the table. We have to pass her around so me and Amber can take turns eating.
Raul gives Rosa a break, and she comes in and scoops up Natalie out of Amber’s arms. Nat smiles and gurgles as Rosa lifts her into the air, clucking at her and saying something in Spanish in a squeaky voice. I think I hear the words for “baby” and “beautiful,” but even after a year and a half of studying it in school, it’s still a foreign language to me.
“You look exactly like your mama, don’t you?” Rosa says in English. She lifts Nat up high again. “Except your eyes. You must have your daddy’s eyes.”
I see Amber tense, and my stomach clenches too. We have a rule to never talk about Natalie’s dad. The thing is . . . we don’t know who he is. It sounds kind of slutty, and I guess in a way it is, but it’s one of those things—a drunken party at Jade’s house to celebrate Labor Day. We try to think of it as a good thing, though. It means we never have to share Natalie with some guy we barely know.
“You should grab some food,” I say, taking Natalie from Rosa.
“Yeah, okay.”
The tension in Amber releases and she slumps back in her chair. I roll my shoulders to ease the strain in them, and a second later we’re all talking about Christmas plans. Crisis averted.
We head home around six o’clock, and David walks out with us. At the car, I remember the McPherson essay, but I hesitate because of Amber. David knows it’s a secret, but she’s gonna think it’s weird if I give him something, and haven’t I already acted suspiciously enough today? I really need to get his opinion, though, so I grab it out of the glove box.
“Here’s that paper,” I say, giving him a look that I hope reminds him to keep his mouth shut about why he’s reading it for me. Amber’s busy buckling in Nat and doesn’t look up.
He nods. “Thanks. I’ll give it back to you on Tues—”
“Whenever’s good,” I say.
Amber apparently is paying attention—I can see her grin at the mention of Tuesday.
“Night, Crystal,” he says. “See you, Amber.”
“Bye,” we say.
“What was that you gave him?” Amber asks as I climb into the driver’s seat. “A love letter?”
“Shut up,” I say, laughing. “It’s a paper I wrote on Mustangs. He wanted to read it.”
She nods. I lost her at “Mustangs,” so I’m safe for the moment. But the fact that she doesn’t press me actually makes me feel even more guilty. There’s a little knot in my stomach, and it’s growing bigger with every lie I tell my sister.
We drive home, and we’re unloading Natalie when a rattling car comes around the corner and backfires, making us all jump. Bonehead starts barking as the car slows in front of our house. “Shit,” I say. “Take Nat and go inside. I’ll deal with him.”
“Are you sure?” Amber asks.
“Just go.”
As Amber passes our landlord, who is now striding across the frosty grass toward the driveway, he tries to stop her, but she keeps walking, so he heads for me.
“You got the rent?” he demands.
Chapter 14
I lean against the side of the Mustang, trying to be cool and unconcerned. I’m usually the one who has to deal with the landlord, but it still makes my heart pound. It’s not like I think he’ll kick us out, but there’s no way we could find somewhere else this cheap to live, so it stresses me anyway.
“Your car sounds like shit,” I tell him.
“Yeah, I know. If I had the rent money I might be able to get it fixed.”
“You should let me take a look at it.”
“Nice try.”
The only light out here is from the neighbor’s porch—the streetlight burned out a couple of weeks ago. My stomach’s tight because I can’t read his expression. “I’ll get you some money on Friday.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“Yeah, I know, but school’s out for Christmas. I’ll take Gil in to work to get his paycheck and make him sign it over to you. And then I’ll drive it over to your house myself.”
“How much?”
“Four hundred.”
“That doesn’t even cover September. What about the rest?”
I shrug. “I’ll fix your car. Bring it by tomorrow.”
“My old lady’s gonna kill me if I don’t get more than that out of you.”
He knows me and Amber have jobs and money of our own, but we took a vow never to pay our parents’ bills or we’d be broke. We buy most of our own food, gas, and insurance— and pay for everything for Nat as it is. We’ll never escape if we give in and take over Mom and Gil’s debts. The least they can do is pay the fucking rent.
“I’ll hit Mom up too,” I say. “Maybe she’s got something saved for Christmas presents.”
If I think this will earn me any sympathy, I’m sadly mistaken. Not that it should, really. I
mean, the place is a dump, but this guy is owed his rent. He lights a cigarette and blows out the smoke. I inhale deeply. It’s not the same as actually smoking, but I’ll take what I can get.
“What time should I bring the car over?” he asks.
“Eleven?” That’ll give me enough time to go and get some filters and fuel injector cleaner for his car, which should stop it from backfiring. If it’s the plugs or wires, he’s on his own. I’ll change those for him, if I have to, but they’re too expensive for me to shell out for.
“I’ll be here,” he says over his shoulder.
Before falling into bed, I manage to talk Mom out of seventy-five bucks, which she says is for presents but I know is gambling money. In the morning, I use some of it to buy parts and give the rest to the landlord when he drops off his car. I spend two hours freezing my ass off in the driveway tuning up his piece of shit while Amber and Nat are inside, buried under blankets, watching TV and trying to stay warm.
Me and Amber decide to skip holiday presents so we can buy Natalie something really special, since it’s her first Christmas ever. Amber wants to get Nat’s ears pierced, so that’s what we do. It seems mean to me, and Natalie really hollers. I’m sure it hurts like hell. It kind of pains my heart to hear her wail like that for no good reason, but Amber’s thrilled with the results, and after the baby gets over our betrayal, she looks pretty cute. We end up buying Amber a pair of matching studs, but I don’t want any. I never wear earrings.
The day before Christmas it’s slow at the gas station and I get off early. I come home and find Amber at the kitchen table surrounded by wrapping paper, gift tags, and about thirty little boxes of chocolate truffles from the dollar store. She jumps up when she sees me, her face turning pink.
“Don’t be mad.”
I sigh. I know what she’s up to. I think it’s a waste, but she can’t help herself. “Why would I be mad?”
“I spent thirty bucks.”
“Jeez, Am, I’m not Scrooge. If you want to give everyone in the family a box of candy, do it. It’s not gonna break us.”
She smiles. “Oh, good. Thanks. Want to help me?”
“Yeah, okay.”
The two of us wrap and tag each box. There’s one for each of the aunts and uncles, our grandma, all the cousins, Mom, Gil, and me. Even the babies get their own boxes. I make a mental note to pick up something for Amber so she’s not the only one at Aunt Ruby’s without a gift tomorrow.
Mom and all my aunts have addictions—gambling, booze, food, or some combo. Except for Aunt Ruby. She loves money too much to waste it. She owns a tavern, but she never drinks, or plays poker in the back room, or eats the fried food. She just counts the takings. She’s the one who gives me and Amber hope. She lives in a nice house that she paid for herself by working hard. And also, she’s taken Amber under her wing.
She’s generous, too, and closes the bar every Christmas Day, inviting the whole family over to eat like pigs and get drunk on free beer and wine. It’s a madhouse of staggering aunts and uncles, competing cousins, wrapping paper, and crying babies.
We’ve been at the tavern for hours, and Natalie’s crashed out in the playpen with her cousin, Rocky. I’m not drinking because I’m driving, and after the hangover from the last party Amber went to, she hasn’t wanted to partake. Tonight she’s allowed herself one hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps as a Christmas treat, and she’s nursing it to make it last.
Me, Jade, and Amber are playing darts, and Jade’s kicking our asses.
“Thirty,” Amber says, laughing, as she pulls her darts out of the board. “Man, I’m no good at this anymore.”
Jade throws two bull’s-eyes and an eighty without even setting her drink down. She tosses her freshly dyed candy-apple-red hair over her shoulder like, Take that! Ever since beauty school, she can’t leave her hair alone. She might as well wear a sign that says, “I’m a hairdresser!” I’m surprised she didn’t add green streaks for the holidays. “You’re no good at darts, Am,” she says, “because you never have any fun anymore. You spend too much time at school.”
“Don’t tell her that,” I beg.
Jade ignores me. “Did you hear? Mom had to fire one of her waitresses yesterday. Rita, I think.”
“Are you serious?” Amber asks. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Stealing booze, I’m pretty sure. You could get your GED and work here full-time. Forget about washing dishes anymore.”
I throw a dart at Jade, and she yelps when it hits her bare arm. “Hey! That hurt.”
“Don’t be a baby.” I throw another one, and it hits her in the thigh. The darts are soft-tipped, so they barely leave a mark.
“Jeez, Crystal. Chill.” Jade throws one back at me as hard as she can, but I catch it.
“Amber’s graduating in June,” I say. “Stop screwing with her.”
“I’m not,” Jade says. “But you could be earning real money, Am, six months earlier if you start now—”
“I know. That’s what I keep telling Crystal.”
I let out a sigh that sounds more like a growl. It’s Christmas, and I’ve been pretty relaxed today, but Jade’s starting to piss me off. “Six months isn’t going to—”
“Ask my mom.” Jade grabs Aunt Ruby’s arm as she walks by.
“Ask me what?”
“You’re a businesswoman,” Amber says. “Tell Crystal I should get my GED and work for you now, since you have an opening.”
Ruby looks us over, sizing up the situation. She puts an arm around Amber’s shoulder. “Finish school, sweetheart. You’ve got all kinds of time.”
“But—”
“Amber, honey, you and me already have a deal for after graduation. You made a plan with your sister. Stick with it. The worst thing you can do in life is to give up your goals before you reach them. You’ll never accomplish anything that way.”
Amber sighs. “Yeah, okay. I guess you’re right. I’ll stick to our plan.”
“There’s a good girl.” Aunt Ruby smiles at me like, Problem solved, and I try to smile back, but I can’t help wondering what she’d say if I told her I’m the one who’s totally messing with our plan for the future.
I’m hit with a wave of nausea. I rush to the bathroom and throw up the two slices of pecan pie I ate. I don’t think my stomach can take all this lying. As I walk by the bar after rinsing out my mouth, I see my uncle Liam chipping away at a giant candy cane with an ice pick. Maybe I should borrow the pick when he’s done. I could stab Amber in the back right now and get it over with.
When it’s time to leave, it takes Amber almost an hour to go around hugging everyone and telling them Merry Christmas. I watch her give each and every one of our relatives her full attention, smiling and laughing, and I know that while I love them all too, I can definitely live without them. Amber’s like Mom—she wants her family around her. I don’t think me and Natalie would be enough for her in Kansas. She’d be lonely and that would kill me.
Han comes over the next day with a present for Natalie—the most gaudy, girly dress ever made. It’s red velvet with a big plaid bow, and there’s one of those stretchy headbands to match. I try not to laugh because he’s so proud of it. He got it at an after-Christmas sale for eleven bucks.
“Maybe she can wear it for New Year’s?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “She’s got big plans that night. Pooping. Eating. Sleeping. More pooping.” I’m joking around, but Han looks crushed, and Amber smacks me in the shoulder.
“I think it’s great,” she says.
“Me too. I was just kidding,” I say.
Neither of us tells him that redheads don’t wear red. Instead, Amber tries the dress on Natalie. It clashes with her hair, but she still looks beautiful, and we all ooh and aah over her. Han takes a couple of pictures with a digital camera he found on the bus. The display’s busted, so we won’t know if the pictures will turn out until he downloads them, but it’s better than nothing.
“I’ll print y
ou some,” he says.
I try to make up for my sucky manners. “Cool . . . thanks.”
We don’t actually have very many pictures of Natalie because we don’t have a camera or phone, so this’ll be good. Sometimes Han is so nice, I don’t mind having him around.
Two miracles happen in January within minutes of each other, and while the second one is awesome, the first one changes our lives for good. And it’s about frickin’ time.
Natalie sleeps through the night.
Instead of waking to whimpers or crying at three in the morning because she’s hungry, I open my eyes and am shocked to see the clock says 7:18. And the baby’s not even screaming. She’s sitting in her crib, babbling away.
There’s got to be some sort of mistake. “Amber?”
She rolls over. “Huh?”
“Did you get up with Natalie last night?”
She burrows down in her blanket. “No. Didn’t you?”
“No! Do you know what this means?” Amber’s eyes open wide. “They said this would happen, but I never believed it!” I jump out of bed and throw myself at my sister, hugging her.
“Cue the friggin’ angels,” she says, quoting Mom.
“She slept through the night! She slept through the night!” we sing together.
We jump out of bed and pick up Natalie, swinging her around.
“You slept through the night, you sweet, sweet, beautiful baby,” I say.
We’re still twirling around when we hear Mom yelling from the other room. “I won the lottery! I won the goddamned lottery! Where is everybody?”
Amber and I stop dancing and stare at each other. This can’t be happening—good things like this don’t happen to us. But then Mom comes thumping through the house whooping and hollering. It must be true! We almost crash into her as she comes lumbering into our room, arms wide, face pink, eyes sparkling.
It turns out that while it’s not millions, the jackpot is five grand.
“Five thousand buckaroos!” Mom yells.
“Woohoo!” Amber says, and we all hug.
I spin Natalie around some more until Amber points out that she looks like she might get sick if I don’t stop. Gil wanders in then and sees us jumping up and down. “Something happen?” he asks, rubbing his eyes.
