7. Nina
Nina
“ O hh, we got him good.” Zeki high-fives me.
I stare at the hallway Evren just disappeared down. Something that feels an awful lot like guilt swims in my gut. Is it because I hinted that I was interested in his brother, even if I’m not? And more importantly, why do I even care how he feels?
“I doubt it,” I say. “Evren wouldn’t care if we hooked up.”
“You sure about that?” Zeki asks. He gives me a long look before saying in a serious tone, “It doesn’t matter though. I’d never do something like that to my brother. Make him squirm, sure, but you and I aren’t a possibility.”
“Obviously,” I say, impressed with his loyalty.
Zeki leads with his playboy, party-boy image, but that appears to be just a front.
Thank God, because I don’t think I’d be able to spend any more dinners with him if all he did was hit on me or talk about partying.
“I’m not interested in you, but we could be friends. ”
“That’d be nice. I don’t know anyone here, and I plan to spend some time in Skyrise.”
“Oh? Doing what?”
“Helping my brother out.”
“With?” I ask, hating how Zeki never really answers a question with something substantial.
“An issue he’s having.”
“Fine, keep up your nonanswer answers.”
Zeki grins and packs away the food, not giving me any hints or real information.
“What did you mean earlier?” I ask. “About Evren expecting everyone to use him?”
“Oh, that.” Zeki stiffens. “It’s not my story to tell.”
“Ugh, you’re the most frustrating person I’ve ever met.”
“Even more so than my brother?” Zeki has an easy grin on his face. “I guess I’ve officially made it in life.”
“Oooorrrr, you could help me out.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because I’m curious.”
Zeki gives me a long look. “All I’ll say on the matter is that Evren keeps to himself and has a difficult time trusting people for good reason. But he’s the best person I know, so go easy on him.”
“I’m not going to do anything to him.”
He snorts. “Whatever you say. Now about my shirt idea…”
The salary Stella’s paying me is generous, but not enough to outfit a massive house in luxury.
So, I plan to thrift as much as I can and turn the pieces I find into ones that are beautiful, unique, and full of feeling.
Thrifting is what helped me get through life, using what little money I had and some elbow grease to refurbish someone else’s trash.
It’s how I got what little furniture I had in Mom’s trailer.
Today, I’m on a hunt for a desk and anything else I might find useful for Stella’s home. The next rooms I need to tackle are an office and a guest room. I probably should work on the kitchen and living room first, but I find it amusing that they’re not complete.
After scanning the shop, I find it—a mahogany desk with intricate carvings and sporting a rich and dark wood full of potential,despite the scratches and water stains.
A little elbow grease and some high-quality wood polish will bring back its former glory.
Maybe I can paint something that looks like fake marble on the top surface, give it a mix between old and new.
A thrill of excitement runs through me.This is why I’m decorating Stella’s house this way. Transforming the overlooked,the discarded,into something extraordinary is everything I believe in.
When I hop into my car, my phone rings. Mom flashes across the screen.
Shit.
Sighing, I answer. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable. She’ll just keep calling, anyway.
“Niiiina, baby.” I hate how she draws out my name, as if we’re close, as if she’s happy to hear from me.
“Hi. What’s up?”
“I’ve been thinking more about that jacket you made…”
“Oh?”
“I think it might be the solution to all our problems.”
“What problems?” I ask to buy time. Of course, I know what she’s going to say.
She never has enough money. Before I moved to Skyrise, I prepaid her rent for the next three months, using my entire savings.
I also send her money every week for groceries and to help her with her bills.
I know it’s wrong to send her money when I’m sure it all goes to her pill addiction, but I have to help her.
She doesn’t have anyone else, and in a lot of ways, that’s my fault.
“Our money problems, of course,” she says. “Aren’t you tired of struggling?”
“Who isn’t?”
“Then why don’t you just set up a shop and sell it? Start with a website. It should be easy.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll get to work on that,” I lie. Sometimes it’s easier to agree with her than to argue.
“Good, that’s good, baby. Try to do it today? And can you send me a little more this week? I used the AC more because of the heat. You know how hot it gets here.”
“How much more?” I ask .
“Only two hundred.”
I almost choke at that figure. That’s too much.
“I don’t have that much.” And I don’t. I used everything from my first paycheck on Stella’s house, moving here, and giving Mom money. My next paycheck is due in a few days, and I only have three hundred dollars left. I’d like to keep that for emergencies.
“How come? Aren’t you working at a fancy hotel now?”
“Yeah,” I lie. It’s the excuse I gave her for leaving town. It’s not like I could tell her the truth about my friendship with Stella or how close Elodie and I still are. She hates Elodie’s mom, Rose, for cutting her off years ago. “But I get paid monthly.”
She huffs. “See? All the more reason to sell that jacket of yours.”
“Yeah…good idea. I’ll send what I can, but I’ve got to run. Talk later.”
She hangs up on me without a goodbye or even a thank-you.
A heavy exhaustion settles over me after talking to Mom for even five minutes.
Guilt coils in my stomach at lying to her, but it’s better than the alternative.
She’s too good at turning words around, at making people do her bidding.
It’s how she got her money when I was younger, by targeting people in town.
She’d even use me as the reason, playing to people’s emotions by saying that she needed to buy me new shoes, new pants, or whatever excuse she thought of that day.
But the money never went toward me, only her .
I start my car, the engine churning over,a sickly,reluctant sound,before sputtering into silence. I try again, and this time,the engine catches,hesitates,and then roars to life. Shit. Coughy is on her last breath, but it’s not like I have enough money to buy a new one.
I make it back to the house, park, and then walk to Rose’s house. Hunter bought her a house in the same neighborhood so that Elodie can be close to her. It’s a huge upgrade from their previous house and I couldn’t be happier for her. Rose deserves all the best things in life.
“Take a seat,” Rose says from her special ergonomic chair to help with her chronic back pain. “And pick your poison, The Sopranos or Grey’s Anatomy ?”
I’ve seen every episode of both shows multiple times over, since they’re Rose’s favorites. But it doesn’t stop me from planting my ass on her couch and saying, “You pick.”
“So…” Rose starts an episode of Grey’s and asks, “How are you?”
“Fine.”
She raises her eyebrow and levels me with a look. “How about we redo that, but this time with the truth?”
I snort. Rose somehow always knows when I’m lying. She’s got that sixth sense that comes from being a good mom. “It’s going…I guess? I feel kind of lost.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t know. For the first time in my life, I have options, possibilities, and it’s scary as hell.”
“Fear is natural when facing new beginnings,but remember,with every leap of faith comes a chance for extraordinary adventures.You’ve got this.”
I snort. “Please don’t tell me you stole that from a fortune cookie.”
“Nope, I got it from a horoscope.” She laughs before asking, “How’s it living with Evren?”
“It’s okay. He’s different than I thought he’d be.”
“Different in a good way?”
Is it good? Well, he actually apologized, and I never saw that coming.
He gives off the energy of not caring about other people.
But he made amends, and I can’t help but respect him, just a little, for doing that.
He’s also been keeping me on my toes, and it’s irritating.
When I try to annoy him, he never responds like how I expect.
My over-the-top shirt and his logo should’ve gotten to him, but instead he flipped it around and it was like he saw me.
Saw everything I put into my designs and read their meaning clearly.
It was unnerving, uncomfortable, and downright rude that he could read me so easily.
“Sure,” I settle on.
“Has Bonnie contacted you recently?”
“Unfortunately.” I shift on the couch, uncomfortable with the topic. After Rose cut Mom off, I stopped visiting Elodie as much as I used to, afraid they’d shun me too and I’d lose my only friend. Eventually, I realized they wouldn’t do that, but that fear? It’s never gone away.
Rose sighs. “You know Bonnie will always want more until you set a boundary with her.”
She says it casually—like it’s easy, like this isn’t a conversation we’ve had a hundred times before.
But Rose doesn’t get it. Every time I try to set a real boundary with Mom, disaster follows.
I’ve cut her off before, and each time, Mom ends up in the hospital with another overdose.
I did that. My choices sent her spiraling and nearly killed her.
So, the boundaries I do have are lying about my life and keeping an emergency fund that’s only for me. To me, that’s progress, but Rose doesn’t see it that way. To Rose progress would mean cutting her off, but Mom’s my only family and my responsibility. I could never do that to her.
“I hear you,” I say as Rose presses her lips together in disapproval.