TWENTY-SEVEN
Belle
Yet another rejection. I toss my phone to the side after disconnecting from my voicemail. What the hell is it about me that makes people so wary to hire me? What irks more is when the damn people have the audacity to tell me I “don’t have enough experience.”
What the hell? How on earth is an eighteen-year-old supposed to get experience if nobody will hire them? I want a job to get my freedom. I need money to pay for a car, or to save for a trip overseas. I need money if I hope to ever start my own tattoo business and live with Zeus.
My chest tightens at the thought of him; two days have passed since he dropped me home. Two days with him busy working and setting up his house, and me stuck here without an excuse to get away to see him.
Fuck him living too far away to walk. Fuck Cerise for being unemployed as well and never giving me a break.
She’s there when I get up, watching me from the back porch while she smokes her cigarette and has her coffee. There during the day no matter what I do—she’s always two steps behind me, lurking in the shadows. I mean, damn, I took the trash out yesterday and turned back for the house to find her standing in the middle of the backyard pretending to be admiring the flowers.
She hates flowers.
I might not remember a lot from when I was young, but I’ll never forget her taking the bouquet Dad bought her when I was little and throwing it in the kitchen sink for him to “sort out later.”
“Problem?” She nods to where I tossed my phone, a wine in her hand.
It’s half nine in the morning.
“Dad still in bed?” He sleeps in later and later these days; the night shift wreaks havoc on his body clock.
“Yeah.” Cerise drifts into the room, stopping to rest a hip against the armchair. “I’m having friends over tonight.”
“That so?” I collect my phone, ready to leave when she stalls me with her calculated response.
“I haven’t seen Jodie in years, so I figured I might as well ask Zeus too, you know, for old times’ sake.” She smirks when I meet her eye. “Get the old gang back together.”
“That ship has sailed, Cerise.”
“Oh I don’t know.” She pauses to take a drink. “Everybody hits a rough patch sometimes. Look at your father and me. True love never dies.”
The words sit on the tip of my tongue: he doesn’t love you. Dad’s lonely, that’s all. Lonely and desperate.
Zeus… well, what could I say about that? Does he still love Jodie at all? He was hurt when he found out what she did. And really, they only split up a few months ago, right before he… fuck. Am I a rebound?
“What do you plan to make for dinner?” I bury the thought and focus on acting indifferent.
“A barbecue is easy.” She takes another swig. “You can organize that if I give you the money can’t you?”
“Sure. Can I borrow your car?” Kill two birds with one stone.
Her eyes narrow, but she nods. “Of course. Make a list and I’ll get you some cash.”
I crush my phone in my fist, eyes trained on my mother as she leaves the room via the kitchen, her empty glass clinking as she sets it on the counter. My fingers fly over the screen as soon as she’s out of sight.
B: What time are you coming over?
Zeus’s reply is instant.
Z: What for? Still trying to figure out how to get you here ;)
B: Cerise mentioned you and Jodie are coming over for a barbecue. I type out the words she thinks you two should get back together, and then delete them. No need to put the idea in his head.
Z: First I heard of it. Still… like I’d turn down the chance to see you.
B: I miss you.
Z: Miss you more, dove. He signs off with his usual: a heart followed by the dove emoticon.
Cerise re-enters as I stand before the open fridge with my phone now switched to the notes app. She peers over my shoulder at the list and lifts her eyebrows.
“Add gherkins. Zeus loves them in a potato salad.” She nods at the list. “You could make that, right? I haven’t given Jodie enough notice to make one for him like she used to.”
This bitch…. “Sure. I imagine it’s not hard.”
“It’s not.” She holds out a stack of twenties in her hand. “One hundred. Should be enough, right?”
How much money does she keep on her? Hell. “Yeah. Perfect.” I take what’s offered and then accept the keys she lifts with her other hand.
“No speeding, and only to the supermarket. Okay?”
“Sure.” I flick my loose hair over my ears, hoping my telltale blush isn’t showing.
She steps to the counter and pours herself a new wine as I slip my boots on. “Tell Dad to message me if he thinks of anything else.”
“Of course.”
I make it as far as the door.
“Belle?”
“Yeah?” The air in the house seems charged, the tension too high for my liking.
“Send Kate a message while you’re out, huh? Maybe you could make yourself scarce for the evening.”
My heart beats wildly in my chest as I swallow the anger rising to my lips and utter a simple, “Sure.”
My mother knows more than she lets on, and given the fact she’s back drinking again it’s only a matter of time before the alcohol frays the threads of her tripwire and sets the bomb off.
If Zeus wants this to continue between us, then he better figure out a way to break it to Dad. Because right now, I’m ready to pack a bag and drive to his house on a one-way suicide mission—fuck the consequences.
If Dad can choose a life of misery with the bitch that gave birth to me, then why the hell can’t I choose a life of love with the man who risks it all for me?