by Toni Aleo
I think I want this. It would be so much easier. I could find someone who gets me, like Amelia said. I could have the house and someone who would love me for my craziness. Shit, do I want a wife? I watch as Chandler kisses his son’s head and then his daughter’s. When Sadie, Chandler’s dog, climbs up with them, I feel like I might die from the cuteness. But then Chandler’s eyes meet Amelia’s, and this little smirk covers his lips. He looks as if he’s on the highest cloud in the sky. I’ve known him for a really long time, and only Amelia does that for him.
One woman.
One woman makes him that happy…
Interesting.
Chapter Two
Aviva
I blow at a piece of hair that has fallen out of my ponytail as I take the fresh bread out of the oven. I place the pan on a cooling rack before rushing to put in the next tray of bread. I’m dragging ass this morning. I woke up late since I was up late with Callie, being a good big sister by helping her with her project on Queen Elizabeth. One thing for sure, I wish I had the queen’s life. Instead, I’m the queen of a sub shop.
I’m so winning at life.
I rub my eyes as I set the timer, another yawn taking over as I start cutting up veggies after washing my hands. Usually Callie helps in the mornings, but with how late we stayed up and her having gymnastics today, I felt she needed the sleep. She works her ass off at school, here at the shop, and at the gym. She can sleep in while I suffer. That’s what a good big sister does. Or a stupid one.
Ed Sheeran’s “I Don’t Care” blasts through the shop as I sing at the top of my lungs. It’s the only time I can listen to music from the current decade. When the shop opens, 90s is all that plays since we’re a 90s-themed sub shop. The shop is full of crazy bright colors. The booths are all retro greens and yellows. The walls are decorated with memorable images from the 90s. Rugrats, Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, New Kids on the Block, Friends… Anything that happened in the 90s adorns the shop. My mom used to be a tour manager before she opened the shop, so the walls are plastered with pictures of her and many 90s stars. It’s pretty badass, and while I love the 90s, sometimes I want to listen to some Five Seconds of Summer or Dan & Shay. Yes, the best music was made in the 90s, but there are some bangers now. Problem is, I refuse to change anything about this shop. It’s vintage, it’s my mom, and I won’t mess that up.
Alec Benjamin starts singing his jam, “Let Me Down Slowly,” and I bob my head to the beat. This is Callie’s favorite song, and usually she sings it from her soul as she’s busy doing whatever needs doing in the shop. Our subs are the best here in South Carolina. Each sub is themed after something from the 90s. Our “How You Doin’” salami sub is our best seller. But then, our “Carlton” tuna is right up there. Really, everything sells well.
Everyone in town comes to the shop, and we stay busy as hell, which is tough since it’s only Callie and me who work here. Thankfully our customers are pretty patient. They get distracted by the ambiance of the place, which gives us time to get subs out. Plus, our subs are damn good. Our secret vinaigrette is what brings all the people in. I was taught how to make it when I was seven. Back when things were the best. Now…now, things are a bit suspect.
When I hear the shower running, I glance at the clock. Oh good, Callie woke up to her alarm. I really wanted to get all this done, and if I’d gone upstairs to wake her up, I might have gone back to bed. I don’t have time for that, though. It’s a Thursday, our biggest sub day because it’s Throwback Thursday. All subs are buy one, get one fifty percent off. It’s gonna be one of those days that I fall face first into my bed by eight. A yawn leaves my body at just the thought. Which reminds me to start the espresso machine.
After I click it on, I get back to work as I wait for Callie to come down. I turn on the stove to make her a breakfast sub, something she has been urging me to sell, but the lunch and dinner rushes already kill me dead. I don’t think I could do a morning rush too. Especially with her not being here. She offered to homeschool so she could help me, but I refused before she could even finish her sentence. I was homeschooled through high school, and I missed out on everything. I don’t want that for her. I want more for her. I have to give her more.
I finish her sub and put it on the warmer so it’s toasty when she comes down, which won’t be for another thirty minutes. The shower is still running. But to my surprise, as I’m thinly slicing the tomatoes, I hear her walking down the stairs. I glance back as she rushes to me in only her towel, her hair wet and panic on her face.
“Aviva!”
My heart jumps in speed as I quickly wipe my hands. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Is this a lump?” Her voice is full of horror, and my heart stops in my chest. I meet her halfway across the kitchen as she drops her towel so her left breast is out. She developed early and had a full B cup at thirteen. She puts my fingers on the spot she was holding, and I dig my fingers into her breast. I lift her arm with my other hand and feel around, biting my lip as I try to calm down.
When I’m satisfied, I shake my head. “No. You’re about to start, right?”
“Yeah,” she says, gathering her towel, tears welling up in her eyes.
“It’s just that. You’re fine.”
Her shoulders drop in relief, and I admire my beautiful sister. She’s thin, thanks to the many hours she puts in at the gym next door. We share the same dark hair that curls naturally along our shoulders. Her deep green eyes are a bit darker than mine, but they have the same catlike shape to them. Her lips are a dark pink and very thick. While my bottom lip is thicker than the top, her lips are even and perfection. Her face is round, almost like a cherub. And just like a cherub, she’s a complete angel. My sweet, beautiful sister.
“Aviva, I can’t keep doing this.”
I turn back to the tomatoes as I nod. “Callie, the doctor said eighteen.”
“That’s not fair! I have two ticking time bombs on my chest.”
“I know, Cal. I know.”
She is frustrated, as am I. Her breasts give her an anxiety that hurts my soul for her. “With our history, I think I should be able to do it now. We have the money for the implants. Why can’t we do it?”
“Probably ’cause a sixteen-year-old doesn’t need implants,” I say, and she gives me a frantic look.
“Then I’ll wait for those until I’m eighteen. But please, I need these things off me.”
I meet her gaze. We’ve talked about this before, and she’s always wanted to wait so she could just have one surgery. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I hate them, and they freak me out.”
“I know, but with gym—”
“I’ll be down for a week at most.”
I bite the inside of my cheek.
Callie continues, “You did it, and you’re awesome.”
Physically sure, but mentally, it’s up in the air. I nod. “I’ll make another appointment.”
She wraps her arms around me, and I lean my head into hers. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Now, go get ready so you aren’t late.”
She nods before she turns and heads upstairs. Out of my control, tears well up in my eyes, and I collapse into the counter as a sob shakes me to my core. I draw in a deep breath, trying to calm down. But for the love of God, she terrifies me. Like she said, those breasts are two ticking time bombs on her chest, and they freak me out too. I know she thinks it’s a good idea to just get rid of them, but it worries me that she’s scared and wants this out. I did that; I was terrified and went that route. It was painful and fucked with me mentally, but I didn’t have a choice. Callie needed me. I really don’t want that for her, but what other option is there?
Cancer takes who it wants.
While I wanted to fall face first in my bed once I closed the shop, Callie had texted me that her coach wanted to see me. It was a rough day. We were busy as all hell, and meanwhile, my mind has been consumed with thoughts of Callie’s breasts. Not really a great thing to think about, b
ut they haunt me. Since I don’t have any, I have to worry about hers. I made the appointment with the doctor, but it isn’t for another week. I have to figure out a way to keep Callie from freaking out until we can go. Hopefully she’ll be too busy to think about it. Though, it didn’t matter how busy I was… I always thought of mine.
The walk across the parking lot to GymMasters is short. My mind is flooded with things I need to do in the morning, but I try to push that aside when I enter the gym. It’s a huge, state-of-the-art facility that brings in a lot of business. Callie has been coming here since she was two. She loves it, it’s a wonderful outlet for her, and we’re thankful for everyone here. When things got rough, they helped and still allowed Callie to come and work with the team, even though we don’t have the money to pay for her to compete. She hasn’t competed in four years. I know she misses it, but I just can’t swing it.
Debt is a nasty thing.
I walk down the side, past the recreational section, to the back where the team girls practice. I spot Callie on bars and smile as she does some little twist thingy. The girl is a beast, and it kills me that I can’t afford to let her compete. But she’s very forgiving. She knows I try. Even though I feel like I suck, she doesn’t allow me to tell her that. She’s a damn good kid.
“Aviva.”
At the sound of my name, I turn to see Callie’s coach, Amelia, coming toward me with one baby on her chest and one on her back. To say Amelia Justice is beautiful is an understatement. How she looks that good after having twins is beyond me. She has the prettiest blue eyes too. She’s stunning. She just had the twins a month ago, and I have no clue how she is back in this gym. Yet here she is. The owner is very family-oriented and allows Amelia to bring the babies with her. I smile as I get to the main floor.
“Look at these babies. They’re adorable! Hannah and Carter, right?”
Amelia beams. “Yup. Thank you! Chandler had a game tonight, so they had to come with me. Makes spotting the girls a bit hard when all they want is to be held.”
“I bet. How are you, though?”
“I’m good. Thanks for asking, and thanks for coming in. I know you’re busy.”
“Well, I gotta make sure Callie isn’t in trouble.”
Amelia laughs. “Far from it.” She looks over to where Callie is doing some kind of release to the low bar, and she beams. “She’s amazing.”
I grin. “I like her.”
She meets my gaze. “Listen, I talked to Dominica, and she agrees. Callie needs to compete.”
My shoulders droop. “Amelia, I don’t have the money—”
“We feel she has the potential for a scholarship for college. She’s damn good and so smart. She’s a perfect candidate.”
“I know, but I can’t afford it. I’m still paying so many medical bills and trying to keep the shop afloat—”
“I know,” she says, cutting me off once more. “Which is why we want to pay for it. Almost like a scholarship from us.”
“To get a scholarship? How does that make sense?”
She smiles. “It makes us look good. It brings in business ’cause everyone wants their kids to be college-bound gymnasts. Most kids won’t make it, but Callie could.”
I swallow hard as I watch her do a double layout dismount, landing it with perfection. “I don’t know. I hate handouts.”
“It isn’t a handout, I promise. We want her to succeed.”
My pride won’t let me. “Let me try to swing it. Can you get me the monthly dues?”
She pulls in her brows. “Yes. Let me ask Dominica to get it to you.”
“Thank you.”
Just then, Callie comes to me as she takes off her grips. “You say no?”
I give her a dark look. “Actually, I said yes.”
She squeals before wrapping her arms around me and kissing me hard on the cheek. “I thought you wouldn’t do it. You don’t like handouts.”
“No, I don’t. But I’m gonna try to swing it.”
She cocks her head as she backs away. “Can we afford it?”
I nod. “I’ll figure it out.”
She looks between Amelia and me. “Okay.”
I can tell by her voice she isn’t convinced, and to be honest, I’m not surprised. I’m not even convinced I can make this work, but I really don’t want the gym doing anything more than they already have for Callie. After she puts away her gear and gets dressed, we head back to the shop. When we lost our house on the beach, I had no choice but to upgrade the apartment over the shop so it was livable for us. I’m still paying that off, along with everything else.
I wrap my arm around Callie’s shoulders and kiss her forehead. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks,” she gushes, leaning into me. “I’m excited. I really want to compete again. I could get a scholarship to pay for school. That would be awesome, and you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”
I scoff. “I’ll always worry about you, Cal.”
“You’re the best, Veev.”
I kiss her once more. “Gotta be the best for the best.”
She grins at me as I open the door of the shop. She walks in before me, hitting the code for the alarm before I lock it back up. She resets the alarm as I pick up some trash I missed earlier. I turn from the trash can to find Callie looking at me in horror from behind the counter.
I raise my eyebrows. “What?”
I walk toward her to see the cash drawer open and the safe in the same state. My heart falls into my stomach as I rush to check the obvious, and I pray it isn’t true. But it is. All my money is gone.
I close my eyes to keep the tears in. The alarm hadn’t gone off, so the person who came in knew the code. “Callie, please tell me you didn’t give Dad the code again.”
She doesn’t answer me at first. Not until I open my eyes do I see the tears streaming down her face. “He said he needed it so he wouldn’t wake us up when he came home at night.”
“Callie, he doesn’t live here!”
Her tears fall faster. “But Aviva, we can’t expect him to stay in shelters. We’re his family!”
“Yes, we can. Because if we don’t, he fucking steals from us!”
She snaps her mouth shut and lets her head fall.
I slam the drawer shut and kick the door to the safe closed, a big mistake as pain radiates up my leg. “Fuck!”
She jumps at my outburst as I crouch down, shaking my head. I cover my face to keep in my tears. I was going to go to the bank tomorrow to deposit everything. He took it all. A week’s worth of profit. Fuck me.
“So, I guess I won’t be competing.”
It takes everything inside of me not to scream at her, but it isn’t her fault. My dad could talk an Eskimo into buying ice. He’s a huge manipulator, and she’s young. I stand up, wrap my arms around her, and kiss her forehead. “I’ll figure it out. But do not give him the code again. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” she says, and I wipe her tears. “How are you gonna figure it out?”
“Don’t worry about that. I got this.”
Which is a complete lie, but I can’t let her know that.
Chapter Three
Aviva
I pinch the bridge of my nose as I squeeze my eyes shut.
“I am aware I let the account lapse. That’s why I’m calling, to pay the bill and then to get a new code assigned. I also need to put in cameras.”
The lady on the other line is probably sick of my shit. This isn’t the first time I’ve missed a payment, and it probably won’t be the last. Not when I have a poor excuse for a father stealing from Callie and me.
“Yes. Absolutely. My card number is—”
I quickly rattle off the number of one of my many credit cards. Once I have an appointment, I hang up, letting out a long huff. I waited until Callie went to school to deal with all this. I didn’t handle it well last night and was a bit of an asshole when I realized a week’s worth of profit was gone. I needed time to calm down. To get a game plan.
I can’t let Callie see that. Things haven’t been easy for us, so when I can take the burden, I will.
The shop doesn’t open for another hour, so I dial the number I’ve been dreading dialing since I found my money missing. My father’s raspy voice fills the line, and I know he spent most of the money on alcohol the night before.
“Hey there, sugar.”
I cringe at his nickname for me. I know I should be more forgiving. He lost the love of his life, but I lost my best friend. I’m not out drinking and doing drugs. I’m raising my sister and running the shop in her honor. “Why, Dad?”
“What?” he asks. He almost sounds genuine, but I know it’s all a fucking ruse.
“How can you steal from me?” I ask, emotion clogging my throat. “I have bills to pay for the shop. I gotta pay for Callie’s gymnastics and Mom’s medical bills. How dare you? I needed that money.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You were robbed? Call the police.”
“And if I do, you’ll go to jail. Shit, I probably should call,” I jeer. Problem is, I have no camera proof, and he had the code. His name is also on the lease for the building, but that will change today. Even if I have to sleep with the landlord to make it happen, I will. Lord knows I need to get off, and he isn’t that ugly. “I’m not naïve, Dad. You asked Callie for the code, and now, all my money is gone. You’re so fucking greedy. You took it all. Couldn’t even leave me a little.”
“I am appalled, Aviva. How dare you accuse me of this?”
“I know it was you.” Damn it, I’m gonna cry. “And know this—this is the last straw. You come around me, or even Callie, I’ll call the police.”
“For what? Seeing my daughters? Be real, Aviva. You have nothing on me, which is why you haven’t called the cops. No cameras or witnesses.”
