Chapter Six
Bribing the Sauce
Sammy
It was near the end of the business day when I finally secured a rental. It wasn’t an apartment, those required background checks and things that sounded like they’d take more time than I was willing to spend at my father’s house. Instead, I found a small home on a dead-end street next to a ball diamond.
I wasn’t sure if it was a city park, or some part of the community sporting center. As it stood, I didn’t care. It was clean and quiet.
The place was also cold now that the sun was going down. The hardwood floors made it seem more so, and I didn’t have any curtains or furniture to sit on.
“Shit.” I looked around at the bare, freshly dried walls.
This wasn’t a home; it was little more than a box to keep someone out of the elements. I just wanted to collapse and rest. I wanted to hide and lick my wounds, but life just would not let me.
I rubbed my fingers over my temple and tried to think.
Furniture store.
I whipped my phone out of my pocket and glared at the time.
Four in the afternoon. Everything would be closed in an hour. I locked the door behind me and sprinted several blocks to the warehouse furniture store. The place was known for being fairly priced, and they had a delivery truck when my mother did business with them on my last leave.
I rubbed my shoulders and made quick work of selecting a bed, sofa, tables, and a kitchen set. The house had a refrigerator and stove that came with the rental, so I needn’t worry about that. However, I was a little disappointed to discover that while the furniture was still decently priced, rugs and curtains were not.
I decided I’d find a regular store for paper goods and those things.
“Four thousand seven hundred and twenty-two dollars,” the salesgirl announced.
“Perfect.” I offered my card, and she moved to accept it.
Shit! Delivery.
“Oh…I, uhm, I forgot I need it all delivered.” I subtly drew back the card.
“Delivery.” She sounded stunned, despite my many items. “Yeah. For sure. We offer delivery for a fee. It wouldn’t be today, though, those are usually booked ahead.”
“Right.” I nodded, trying not to sound disappointed or surprised. Of course, normal people didn’t just go buy a houseful of furniture on a whim. “Would, uhm…tomorrow be okay?”
She sucked in air, making a regretful sound. “Delivery guy is off tomorrow. We could put you down for first thing Monday morning, though?”
I glanced down at the screen of my phone.
Thursday, April eighteenth, stared back at me.
The thought of sleeping on that cold, hardwood floor for the entire weekend sent goosebumps racing down my arms.
“Our customers are always number one. We value your business and aim to make your shopping experience as smooth as possible. To help us do this we ask that you please select your final choices and head to the front checkout at this time,” a voice chimed over the speaker.
I inwardly groaned.
“Could we suspend the order for just… two minutes, I could hop back in line and see about a truck?”
She frowned but eventually relented with a nod.
I shot to the back of the line and quickly called my brother.
“Hey!” he blurted out. “Are you alright?”
“Uh…yeah.” I exhaled awkwardly, “Do you think you could pick me up at the furniture store with a truck? I had to get some things, and I bought them and now I can’t get them home.”
I hadn’t technically bought them, but I played dumb for sympathy.
“You did what?” He laughed.
I groaned and stepped forward with the line.
“I should make you call Dad,” he threatened, humor laced in every word.
“Don’t be an ass. I’ll buy you a pizza if you keep quiet and help me put it all together?”
“Pizza and an ice-cold soda.” He negotiated.
“You got it,” I blurted out as the lady in front of me started to pay for her purchases.
“See you in five,” he sang, and hung up in my ear.
I was waiting on the curb with all my many boxes when Sauce pulled up.
“You didn’t bring any help?”
He laughed.
“Look, I know I’m not the biggest bastard in town, but I ain’t no weakling,” he murmured, hefting one of the boxes up with ease.
My eyes widened and I moved to help him, but he was already slinging it into the truck bed by the time I caught up. He turned and stumbled into me, his arms coming out to grasp my shoulders.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He laughed, stepping around me.
I sighed and decided to leave him to it, picking up a smaller box and setting it up there between his trips.
“That's all of it?” he asked, once the sidewalk was bare.
I gave a slow nod, and we climbed into the cab of the truck.
“You fuckin’ walked up here?” Sauce exclaimed.
“Uh… No, I sprinted actually.” I laughed when he looked at me like I was crazy.
“Shit. Do you need anything else? Grocery? You good for the night after this?”
“No, I’m good. Actually, I-I need paper stuff, laundry soap, just… random shit. Don’t worry about it though,I can probably get it tomorrow,” I dismissively decided.
He flubbed his lips and turned into traffic without asking which direction home was.
“It’s nothing. There’s a place around the corner.”
He pulled into a large parking lot, and I stared at the sign in front of the store.
On site pharmacy, it read across the top. According to the sign, they offered seasonal vaccines. Flu, Pneumonia, and more.
“You ever wonder why we missed half that shit.” I motioned toward the sign. “I mean, you don’t even have to go to a damn office anymore. You can get shots in a store, or a damn health department.”
Sauce squinted at me and slowly shook his head, clearly having never given the matter a single thought.
“We got shots growing up.”
“Not all of them.”
He shrugged, “I wasn’t complaining. Don’t remember you complaining over not getting them, either.”
“I’m complaining now,” I snapped, causing him to tuck his head back toward the driver’s side window.
His lips parted, only to close again. It was fucking weird. I was being weird.
Jesus.
What was wrong with me? Did I want everyone to know about my business?
“Shit. Sorry. Look, I’ll be back,” I promised, and let myself out before he could say another word.
I could feel his eyes on me all the way to the front of the store.
He was right. I’d never given a damn about the missed vaccines. Not until I had to catch up on a ton of them when I joined the service. Even then, it wasn’t more than a passing irritation, not something I’d dwelled on.
I had no grudge against my mother.
It was the sudden realization that I could have been vaccinated against the disease that stole my career and chance away from all of this that left me edgy.
My mother was a grieving woman. She’d lost a child, blamed herself for it a little and was drowning in depression while trying to raise those of us who were still with her. My emotions swung while I shopped as quickly as I could.
Sauce saw me at the door and swung the truck around to the curb, saving me a few steps.
“Let me,” he quietly mumbled, taking most of the bags in his fist.
“Sauce,” I wanted to apologize, but he wouldn’t look at me.
He just grabbed another five bags in his fist and yanked them out of the cart. He put one foot on the tire and hefted himself back up, stuffing them between the boxes in the truck bed.
“Ready?” he asked, hopping off the tire and dusting his hands off, his eyes meeting mine finally.
He was so cold. So distant. Those eyes weren’t, though.
They were big, green, and pleading with me to let it go.
I smiled against the urge to tear up. He might have a patch, but he was still my little brother. The peacekeeper.
I nodded and got in the truck, letting it all go with a heavy breath.