Page 15 of Really Truly Yours

My work line rings. I settle onto the sofa to field a call. Several more come in quick succession.

At half-past eleven, after a ridiculously long interaction, I’m exhausted from trying to placate a particularly nasty customer. I log out of the system and toss my headset onto the coffee table. I’ll see about picking up a few make-up hours later this evening.

A familiar rumble shakes the walls. Lots of fully grown men in this neighborhood drive trucks with the distinctive, double-barreled growl that is particularly galling in the middle of the night. This rumble is close enough for me to pinpoint its owner. Sure enough, before I make it to the door, a fist pounds.

Opening up, I smile. “Hi, Sam.” I hold the door to allow my brother to saunter inside.

“What’s up, Neenee?” He goes straight for the easy chair that’s been his favorite since this was Grammy’s house, draping himself all over it as if this were still his home too. He’s the reason a blue beach towel is strategically spread across the fabric. There’s rarely a time he isn’t covered in grease and grime. “Can I have some ice water, sis. It’s hotter than—”

“Uh-uh.”

His eyes roll. “Hotter than jalapenos out there. Is that better?” He wipes his beaded forehead. “Where’s fall, anyway?”

I don’t melt at the sound of four-letter words, and I try not to be the bossy sister. Still, in the absence of any parental figure in our lives since Grammy died, I feel like it’s my place once in a while to give him something to think about. Besides, this is my house now.

Sam is a point of pride for me. He’s a hard worker and ambitious, qualities that don’t run strong in our gene pool. He could as easily as not have turned out like our father or Max. Happily, at twenty-four, he owns his own automotive shop, or will when he makes his final payment to Scotty Miller four years from now. Scotty took Sam on when my brother was only fifteen and taught him the trade. When his body slowed to the point he couldn’t work on cars any longer, he cut a deal.

Yes, Sam knows where the kitchen is, but his hands have black streaks on them and his hairy forearms are matted with grease. No amount of soap is going to be enough for me to allow that in my freezer. I open the cupboard and take out a plastic cup, a freebie from Daddy Jimbo’s pizza, and fill it with ice and water.

Downing it in a single stream, he rattles the ice left behind.

“Does this visit mean my car is ready?” My little economy rattletrap has been at his shop for two weeks, leaving me at my brother’s mercy. My pantry is almost cleared out. Good thing I don’t eat much.

His unshaven cheek pulls and he looks truly regretful. “Sorry, Nee, still waiting on those parts.”

I sigh. Good thing I’m a homebody, too.

Groceries aren’t optional, however, and having to rely on a single, twenty-something brother puts me to the test.

“When do you think they’ll come in?” I’ve been in this holding pattern since some uninsured hick in a twenty-year-old dually backed into me at the general store on Main. For the peanuts my insurance company wanted to give me to total it out, I wouldn’t have been able to buy a roller skate to replace it. I’ll do about anything not to take on a car payment.

The shift in Sam’s expression scares me. “What?”

He sits up straight, dragging his work boots in.

Oh, no.

“I got bad news, sis.”

“Go on.”

“First of all, you know I’m doing what I can about your car, right? And I’m pretty much done fixing the mechanical stuff, but Kenny called this morning and, turns out, he found more damage to the undercarriage. Which means more parts.”

I close my eyes. “How much?”

“You know Kenny’s chipping in to help me with the work when the parts get here, since body work isn’t my thing, but he’s going to need the money upfront for the rest of the stuff. I’m sorry, Nee.”

“Just tell me how much, Sam.“ I’ve already surrendered six-hundred dollars.

“Eight.”

Ugh. “Okay. I’ll transfer a couple hundred from savings this evening.”

His cheeks retreat in a massive wince. “Um, that’s eight hundred more. I’m really, really sorry, sis.”

That fast, tears rush my eyes. I snatch the cup out of his hand and return to the freezer. I need a moment.

“Aw, Neenee. You know I’d do more if I could.”

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