Page 12 of The Wrong Sister
“Not exactly,” I reply vaguely.
A silence on the other side of the line tells me she’s not happy to hear that.
“Okay. We can discuss it when you come to us. We’re in Maupiti, at our favorite spot.”
Aha, the favorite spot I can’t afford to come to.
“Mom, can you—” I clear my throat. And again. “Can you please buy me a ticket?”
“Yes, Maeve. Of course,”she says, sounding rather happy.“I’ll send you a confirmation soon.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
“Sure, Maeve.”She pauses while I hear her walking somewhere. “But honey, please think about what we talked about. It’s a part of who we are. It’s what we do. Your father won’t agree to help you if you don’t agree to help him.”
“Okay, Mom,” I agree easily because I don’t see a fault in promising ‘to think.’ “I will.”
“Good. That’s very good. See you soon, honey.”
“See you, Mom.”
When we hang up, I lean back on the wall of the bus stop next to Lulu’s place. I don’t have anywhere to go. The coffee shop burned down. But I’m desperate, so naturally I was thinking about going there and just camping, but they replaced the locks the next morning. I checked. My warm jacket got burned, and I’m left with only the thin cardigan I’m wearing now. It used to have a hole on one elbow, so I cut two pieces of material from my old jeans and strategically placed them on both elbows in an attempt at making the whole thing look stylish. It turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself, but it’s not exactly warm.
Shivering from the October cold, I wipe my running nose.
“Well, you look miserable.” Comes Jeffrey’s voice. Another person down on his luck.
“And you look stunning, Jeff.”
Chuckling, he limps his way toward me. A big, black plastic bag is stashed in his shopping cart he’s pushing in front of him. The saxophone case is hidden inside—I recognize the shape.
“What are you doing here, kid?”
I look at the dark sky and notice low clouds hovering over the city. It’s probably going to rain. That’d just top my cake.
“I got kicked out.”
He clicks his tongue as he sits next to me on the bench. “The douchebag said that you’re trying to get into his pants again?”
“Yep.” I bang the back of my head on the wall behind me. “Again. Why is this happening?”
“It just happens, kid.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Some people get bad luck. Some people get everything. Life’s a bitch.”
“Yeah,” I agree sadly.
“Are you hungry?”
I glance at the sandwich he’s opening on his lap and swallow. “No, thank you though.”
I haven’t eaten since… morning? Or when did I eat?
He carefully divides the sandwich in two and offers one half wrapped in paper to me.
“No, Jeff. I can’t take your food,” I say, trying not to look at his sandwich like a starved animal.
He pushes the half to me. “Take it. You’ve given me plenty before. It’s my turn to share.”
I look at the sandwich in his hands and say in a weak voice, “But you won’t have enough for yourself.”
