"Hello." my brother said as he answered his phone.
Funny how one word could say so much.
I could hear the impatience in his voice and the sounds of my nephews in the background. For a brief moment, I considered hanging up and pretending I had pocket-dialed him. He would probably be relieved by that.
But I really needed someone to talk to, and he was the only person I could think of. I had some friends, but no one I ever shared my real feelings with. Brandon was all I had in that regard, and I didn't do much sharing with him—I only called him to vent when things got really frustrating.
"Hello?" he repeated when I didn't say anything right away. "Sidney?"
"I'm here," I said. "Sorry. I was in traffic."
It was the truth, although it wasn't really the cause of my silence.
"Is everything all right?" Brandon asked. "Is Mom okay?"
"Yeah, I just… we're fine. I'm just… you know Mom. She just cracks me up sometimes." I sighed, hoping he would pick up on my frustration. I hated that I was skirting around the issue, and I cringed at myself for saying she cracks me up. I wished I could just come out and say what was bothering me, but I couldn't help but be awkward. I knew from experience that any problem I had with Mom would cause Brandon to get defensive or frustrated or both.
"Where are you?" he asked.
"I'm on my way to a wedding."
"What's that noise?"
"It was just a motorcycle," I said, glancing out the window to the other lane where a really loud motorcycle had just blown past me. I made a face at it even though it was long gone by then. Brandon and I shared a few seconds of silence while I debated about telling him what was really on my mind. I could still hear his kids in the background.
"She asked me for money again," I said, finally.
He let out a frustrated groan as soon as I said it, which instantly caused hot blood to rush to my face.
"So, don't give it to her," Brandon said. "I don't know what to tell you, Sid. Just tell her you don't have it."
"I'm not gonna do that," I said. "She knows I'm not broke. She had some stuff come up with getting her car fixed. She said if they don't pay their electric bill in the next three days, it's gonna get turned off."
"What about Aunt Regina?" he asked. "Why can't she pay it?"
My mom had been living with her sister, Regina, for the last fifteen-plus years. They currently lived in a condo in the same building as me. For the longest, they lived in our old house in Cutler Bay, but roughly a year ago, Mom sold it and they moved to Miami. Mom said the house was too much to keep up anymore, and besides, she wanted to be closer to me.
They were a pair, those two. Both of them had been abandoned by their respective husbands long ago, and they seemed to encourage each other's bitterness toward men and overall lack of enthusiasm in life. They both had jobs, but neither of them were fond of their work. Mom worked as a cashier at a big department store, and Aunt Regina waited tables at Waffle House. They worked in the same shopping center, and they tried to arrange their schedules so that they could carpool.
Neither of them worked full-time. They lived paycheck to paycheck, barely scraping by and often spending more than they made. This was especially frustrating when they made unwise choices (like renting a condo on the same floor of the same building as me that was quite a bit more expensive simply because it had a slightly better view). They told me over and over that I should "just move in with them so we could save on rent".
Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.
Don't get me wrong… I really did love my mom and Aunt Regina. In spite of my annoyances, we didn’t fight or otherwise have a lot of relational drama. Mostly, I just kept my irritation bottled-up. We were family, and ultimately, I knew they would do anything in their power for me if I needed it, but I really never needed it—at least not financially like they did.
Sometimes, when I had to stay late at work for parent/teacher meetings or had something else going on, Mom came over to take my Blue Heeler, Sheila, out for a quick walk or over to her place so that she wouldn't be stuck in her kennel. I had another neighbor I called on in a pinch before Mom had moved to Miami, but having family there did make it easier.
On those occasions, it was nice to have them in the building. But sometimes, their proximity proved to be a real challenge, and today was one of those days. I had just finished having an uncomfortable conversation with my mom that ended in me handing her a hundred and sixty dollars that I was sure wouldn't be paid back.
"Aunt Regina had to call in sick all last week to work," I said, answering Brandon's question about why our aunt couldn’t pay the electric bill. "She still hasn't gone back."
"I talked to Mom two days ago, and she didn't mention anything about Aunt Gina being sick," Brandon said.
"She probably didn't want to bother you with it—and she's not really sick. I mean, not like the flu or anything."
"What's wrong with her?" Brandon asked.
"Her back," I said. "She thinks it's a pinched nerve. Waiting tables is hard for someone her age. She's on her feet the whole time, and she won't splurge for some nice shoes even though I told her it would help."
"Well, then tell her to get a different job," Brandon said in an impatient tone.
I let out a long, audible sigh, feeling frustrated with myself for calling when I knew he would react this way.
"What?" Brandon asked at my sigh. "It's not your problem, Sidney. They're grown women. Let them take care of themselves. If she gets to hurtin' enough, she'll get some better shoes or a different job. That's on her."
That was easy for him to say. He and his family lived all the way up in Orlando, and even if they didn't, Mom probably wouldn't ask him for anything. I had heard her tell Aunt Regina one time that I had plenty of money to spare since I had that good teachin' job and didn't have a family to support, like Brandon.
I stayed silent on the phone, thinking about those things and wishing Brandon would just be gracious and let me vent to him rather than reacting defensively. He had been using a frustrated tone since I mentioned what was bothering me. I knew that would be the result of me calling him, but I had been hoping against hope that this conversation would have a different result. I just wanted him to say, "Oh, I'm sorry," or "Don't worry, sister, they'll get it together one of these days," or, better yet, "Thank you for paying their electric bill, you're awesome."
"What about Jason or Brandy?" he asked, still in that tone. "Why can't they call one of them? It falls on Aunt Regina if she's the one not working."
He was referring to our first cousins, Aunt Regina's kids, who were in an even worse financial situation than our mom and aunt. In fact, Jason often crashed on their couch. I let out a little laugh at the suggestion.
"I already gave them the money," I said. "It wasn't really that big of a deal. I didn't call because I needed you to offer a solution or anything. I just… I don't know… I just wanted to vent, I guess. I get frustrated sometimes, and I don't really have anyone else to talk to about stuff like that. Plus, I wanted to check on my little knuckleheads," I added in a lighter tone. "I haven't talked to you in a little while. I saw on Facebook that Sam's playing soccer."
Brandon didn't respond right away—all I could hear were the sounds of the boys talking and hollering in the background. I don't know what I expected him to say, but he didn't say anything. The next thing I knew, he was yelling. "Sam, stop hitting your brother! Jessica, can you please help me with the boys?"
I could tell how frustrated he was. I knew his agitation stemmed from being protective of me and feeling bad about my situation, but he wasn't handling it like I hoped he would.
"I know you're busy," I said.
"It's all right," he said. "Hang on. Just take them outside," he added, talking to his wife. "I'll be out there in a minute. I'm talking to Sidney."
"Heyyy Sid," Jessica yelled.
"Hey," I said back even though she couldn't hear me.
"She said 'hey'," Brandon said to his wife.
I could hear the noise level decrease as Jessica took the boys outside.
"What wedding are you going to?" Brandon asked, changing the subject and sounding calmer.
"My friend, Abigail. You probably remember her. Her family's from Cutler Bay. Abigail Spencer."
"Are you driving down there?"
"No, it's here. She lives in Miami now. She's marrying a famous cellist."
"Really? Like in an orchestra?"
"Yeah. He's a great guy."
"You met him? Y'all hang out?"
"Uh-huh. He and Abigail meet us at the park every Friday. Abigail used to come by herself, but Ash comes with her now."
"Who's us?" he asked.
"What?"
"Us. You said they meet us at the park. Who's us?"
"My class," I said. "My students. We eat lunch at the park, and then they come meet us so we can feed the fish in the pond. Abigail knows a lot about fish. That's what she does for a living."
"She fishes?"
"No, she's a marine biologist. She travels around Miami, cleaning aquariums and taking care of fish. We meet at a park that has a Koi pond, and she brings fish food so my students can feed them."
"I remember her," Brandon said. "She's young to be getting married, isn't she?"
"She's only a couple of years younger than me," I said.
"Are you bringing a date?" he asked, since his thoughts were going to the same place mine were—the fact that someone younger than me was getting married and I wasn't even dating anyone.
"Not to the wedding," I said. "I am taking someone to the reception, but it's not a date. It's Matt. Abigail said she'd like him to come, so I volunteered to pick him up."
"I'm confused. Who's Matt? Is Abigail trying to set you up or something?"
"No," I said, laughing. "He's one of my students. I'm taking him to the reception with me, but that's not till later tonight. The wedding's really small—just family and a few friends. They're closing the tunnel at the Miami Aquarium. That's where I'm headed now. It starts at three. The reception's not till seven tonight. There's a bunch of people going to that. It's at a different location. Some country club."
"And your date is one of your special kids?"
Brandon was referring to the fact that I taught special ed, but I pretended like I didn't get it.
"Yep. Matt is special. That's why Abigail invited him. He's the one she's closest to."
Brandon and I talked for a few more minutes—about my nephews mostly. We didn't bring up mom again, and I knew Brandon was relieved about that.