Chapter 1 #2
Zeppo and Sophie laugh and I don’t know why that’s funny. “You aren’t the only one.”
Monty snatches the package out of my hand. “The shit that Ernie took and had him tripping balls? No, she ain’t trying it.”
“We tweaked the formula.” Sophie grins at me encouragingly.
A few others are already lighting up the joints and taking long drags.
She leans into me and whispers, “It might help you sleep.” I duck my chin, my watery eyes on the ground.
She noticed. Which means everyone has noticed.
Do they know that I sneak into Yak’s suite and sleep on his floor?
God, this is humiliating. I wasn’t even the one who was shot!
I didn’t have a gun at my temple! And outside the synagogue on Yom Kippur, I was safely ensconced in the building while the men and Tovah returned fire and defeated our enemies. I did nothing! I contributed nothing!
I mumble, “Thank you, excuse me,” and walk briskly toward the compound.
I should go home. To the house I bought and never sleep at.
I’m 37 years old for God’s sake, I am being a big baby.
A hemorrhage. My sisters are brave bad-butt bitches…
is it a gene? Like the breast cancer gene that only Dottie tested positive for. Did the bad-butt bitch gene skip me?
“Sophia!” I walk faster, knowing the futility of my actions. Monty will not let me leave alone. And Yak would be angry if I left. I squawk embarrassingly when he scoops me up mid-stride. “Sweetling.”
“I want to go home,” I mutter quietly. Monty’s dark brow furrows and he slows his pace.
“In the compound?” he asks, but he already knows that’s not what I mean.
“No. My house. I think…I think I have stayed too long. I should—”
“You should do what feels comfortable.” I want to, but that’s the easy path. That’s what I’ve been doing. Months and months, I’ve “snuck” around, I’ve depended on Monty and Yak like a noose around their neck.
“I want to go home.” I say again with more confidence.
I’m faking it until I make it. Monty stares at me for several long seconds, then nods and continues walking.
Inside the compound, he takes me to my suite, and I begin packing a few days’ worth of clothing.
He stands in the doorway on his phone. I know he’s texting Yak.
They take their role as security seriously.
Maybe too seriously. They don’t have to put their lives on hold because of my damage.
“Sweetling, you don’t need to go home. You can stay here; this is your home too.”
I offer Monty a brittle smile. It’s nice that he’s trying to make me feel better. “Thank you.” He sighs; the sound laced with frustration and disappointment.
I glance up when the front door of my suite bangs open. I inhale deeply, bracing for Yak, but my sister pushes Monty out of my bedroom doorway and leans against it with her arms crossed. I meet Blanche’s stare with my own…but only hold it for a few seconds before I chicken out.
I zip up my bag, but Monty takes it from the bed before I can set it on the floor.
His free hand cups my jaw, tilting my chin until I am forced to look him in the eye.
I fight the urge to squeeze my eyes shut like a child.
His penetrating gaze makes me feel exposed, so I shake off his grip and walk past him to get my purse from the living room.
Blanche refuses to move and while I know Monty would never push me, Blanche has no problem doing just that.
“No.” My chin drops to my chest. One word, an answer to a question I didn’t ask.
I’m 37, I don’t need to ask permission to go home.
I meet her eyes and let her see everything I’m feeling.
My sisters are my safe space; it has been the four of us against the world since before we took our first breaths.
The rigidity of her posture softens slightly at whatever she sees in my expression.
“I’m coming with you.” She turns to Monty and snatches my bag from his hands before he realizes what she’s doing.
“I will accompany her; you can stay here.”
“Blanche, you know—”
“Absolutely not!” Great, Yak is here and I will never get to leave. Blanche I can handle, sort of. Monty is a big softie. But Yak…there is this compulsion to obey him. I hoped to make my escape before he returned because if he tries to stop me, I will never leave. And I have to.
“She is my sister.” Blanche goes toe-to-toe with Yak. “What is she to you? Hmm?”
Yak ignores that burning question and I deflate a little at his deflection. “She is not leaving. There is no reason. And it is easier to look after her here than having a security detail deployed to watch her at her home.”
Babysitting. They are arguing over who will babysit me.
Tears in my eyes, I stand still as they argue back and forth.
When Monty shifts to step between them, I take advantage of their distraction, grab my purse and slip from my suite.
I leave my bag; I should still have things at home I can use or buy what I need.
I keep my head down, offering small smiles to the employees I pass on my way out.
I find my vehicle in the garage and thank the attendant for opening the garage for me without question.
Halfway down the driveway, I glance in my rearview mirror and nearly put my foot on the brake to stop when Yak, Blanche, and Monty spill out the front doors.
Instead, I press the gas and wave at the guard on gate duty.
I won’t have long at my house before one or all of them arrive, but maybe it will be enough time for me to find my “balls”.
Tovah and Blanche proudly claim their “big balls” are on their chests.
I look down briefly at my small B-cups…darn it.