Chapter 2 #2
“I don’t know. A couple hundred bucks, maybe.
But Mama is real pissed about it.” I grabbed her drink and followed my brother the short distance to my mother’s smoke-filled oasis.
I glanced around the room, taking in the red-and-gold bedding, the half-filled ashtrays on the dresser and the end table, and the large, nearly nude photo of my mother framed over her bed.
It was giving desperation vibes with a side of I’m over the hill, and I’m not happy about it.
I moved to the window and opened it, allowing the fresh air to at least offer a reprieve from this hellish cancer causing cave.
“My god, Wendy. No one should be breathing this in,” I said.
“Of course, you call me Wendy when you know I’m down and out.”
She was always down and out—otherwise, she would be missing. She never called or made herself available when she wasn’t in a bad place.
So bad was all I knew of this woman.
“I’ve called you Wendy since I was a kid. Don’t find another reason to stay bedbound. Get up. Breathe in some fresh air. Maybe drink some milk or eat something that doesn’t come pre-packaged. You don’t look well.”
Her skin was pale and tinged slightly gray. If she didn’t spend most of her days in bed sleeping, I would have believed she was a vampire back when I was a sucker for the Twilight series. After all, the woman had a real gift for sucking the life out of the people around her.
She sat forward and held out her hand for her drink. I didn’t give it to her. Instead, I reached for her hand and pulled her up on her feet.
“You get the Coke after you take a shower. Go.” I pointed to the bathroom, and she glared at me before storming the few feet away and slamming the door.
“Damn, Sis. You’re the only one who can get her up and moving when she’s in a slump,” Rico said.
I took the beer from his hand and raised a brow. “How about you don’t drink when it’s not even noon? How’s the job going?”
“You know Oscar likes to ride my ass, but at least it’s a paying job.”
I set my mother’s glass on the dresser and shouted through the door that it was waiting for her there.
Rico followed me back out to the kitchen, where I poured what little bit was left of his beer down the drain and found a trash bag beneath the sink. I started dumping all the empty bottles into the bag before heading to the refrigerator to clean out the rotten food.
The door to the trailer swung open, and Zane stepped inside. He was a year younger than Rico and three years younger than me. My two brothers resembled one another, while I didn’t look like either of them.
It was fitting in a way. I’d never felt like I fit in here.
My father was the only one I’d ever felt like I belonged with.
But I loved my brothers fiercely, and I tolerated my mother because they couldn’t seem to escape her orbit.
“Well, if it isn’t the professor!” Zane scooped me up and spun me around. They were both big guys. Tall, broad, and muscular.
“Put me down and help me clean this place up. You guys shouldn’t be living like this.”
Yes. They both still lived at home.
Zane moved to the sink and started washing dishes. “I, uh, I was kind of hoping you could help me with something.”
Here we go.
“What did you do?” I asked, whipping around to face him.
“I sort of made a dumb bet on a horse, and Sam White is threatening to take my car if I don’t pay him by Friday.” He scratched the back of his neck, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
“How much do you owe him?” I asked.
“Three hundred bucks.”
“And you leveraged your car for a stupid horse bet?” I hissed before turning back to the refrigerator and questioning the fact that I’d willingly returned home.
In the name of my father, of course.
But this was the reason that I hated coming back.
I could feel myself being pulled under.
Even my breathing felt more constricted when I was home.
I felt trapped here.
I’d wanted a different life, and that was why I’d left.
I loved my brothers; I just didn’t know if I could save them and save myself at the same time.
Zane gave me that sad, pathetic look that he always used when he fucked up.
I let out a long breath. “Come by the bar later in the week and I’ll get you the money.”
He wrapped his arms around me from behind, and I shook him off.
I was enabling him, and I knew it. But I didn’t know how else to help him. I’d tried getting them both jobs. I’d bailed them out of endless shit. Talked ad nauseam about them moving away and changing their lives. Coming to stay with me in California. About going back to school to get their GEDs.
But it never went anywhere.
And I was more than aware that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome.
So, I just tried to bandage things the best I could.
“Damn. Ruby always knows how to fix things,” Rico said.
I turned around to face them.
“Yeah. I’m the Ray Donovan of this shit show,” I grumped as I tied the garbage bag and moved to the door to set it outside. I sucked in the fresh air and waited until the queasy feeling I had from the rotten food was out of my system.
“Who the hell is Ray Donovan?” Zane asked.
“It’s a TV show.” I shook my head.
“Oh, yeah, with that actor, Liev Schreiber?” Rico nodded, like he knew exactly what I was talking about. “He’s a fix-it guy, right?”
“Yes. People make endless bad choices, and he cleans up their shit. Sort of like me with you two.”
“You are the Ray Donovan of the family,” Zane said, hooking an arm around my shoulder and kissing the top of my head.
“Lucky me.” I rolled my eyes and thought about it.
It had been this way since I was a little kid.
Moving away hadn’t really changed much.
They still called.
I still answered.
Maybe this was just my purpose.
But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it was exhausting.