I open my laptop, because I’m a masochist like that, and stare at the email from Kevin again. The balls on this guy are astounding, I think to myself. He knows exactly how instrumental his parents were in my break up with Sasha and he has the nerve to ask me for a favor?
“Whatcha looking at?” Bronx asks, eyes still closed.
Little fucker still has x-ray vision.
“Nothing.”
“I can tell it’s something.”
“And I can tell you’re all messed up over that girl or else why would you come to your family’s tapas restaurant, sloppy drunk, where I work?”
“You think I’m here to see you?”
“You didn’t know Ma was going to be here.”
“You’re right, I didn’t.”
“So what are you going to do about it, Bronx?”
“I don’t know what I can do anymore.”
“You can sober up, stop acting like a pussy, and go fix shit with your girl.”
“You told me that our relationship was a dysfunctional catastrophe waiting to happen.”
“I did… but even I can be wrong sometimes.”
36
Karma
I’ve had this feeling for over a week that I’m being watched. I attribute it to the fact that I can’t get a decent night’s sleep to save my life, so paranoia seems to be my baseline now.
I’m working a small job at a house in West Philadelphia. The homeowner is moving back in after years of renting it to students and needs someone to give it a good cleaning. The pay is good too. I’m lucky that even though I’m not working with Ruby anymore that Brenda is still sending me on decent jobs.
After checking Lev into the emergency room, I promised myself that it would be my last time in a hospital, so I haven’t seen him since I left him there, but it’s probably the best thing for me.
I accept now that everything Bronx told me about my brother is true, and so whoever shot him could possibly be a threat to me. I have to take care of myself now and stop looking for love in all the wrong places.
After I finish cleaning the house, I check the bus schedule on my phone to see when the next one is coming. I’m going to head back to the short stay motel that I’m temporarily living in and take a long hot shower before I continue my searching for an affordable apartment.
I lock the door behind me and when I turn around; I notice the freshly washed Mercedes Benz truck parked directly right in front of the house.
What the hell is he doing here?
I stare at the car, not really knowing what to do, when I notice that there’s no one inside. I look around but I don’t see Bronx anywhere, so I decide to keep it moving and walk to the bus stop.
I do a double take when I arrive to my destination, because for a moment it looks like Whitney Houston is waiting for the bus which is nuts because Whitney Houston is dead and even if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be at the damn bus stop.
I’ve got to figure out a way to get more sleep, I think to myself. I’m losing it.
The Whitney Houston doppelgänger waves me over. “Are you Karma?” she asks.
“Um, yes.”
She pulls a small bluetooth speaker out of a small gold Telfar tote bag she’s carrying and presses the power button. That’s when the instrumental version of I Will Always Love You begins to play and fake Whitney sings the first few notes.
I have to smile as a few passing cars honk their horns at the performance. Fake Whitney is good and I even hum along as she arrives at the big finale of the song.
