“I can’t come up with a label design that screams ‘wow,’” Kara said. “And you need to invest in the next generation Cricut machine if you want me to take you seriously as an entrepreneur.”
“I told you, I cannot afford to spend eight hundred dollars on a printer,” Ashanti said.
“The newest model is a thousand now, and it is aninvestment.”
“Talk to me after I pay the rent on the daycare.” Ashanti looked to the stairs. “Where’s Kendra?” It felt as if she’d asked that question a thousand times this month. “And what time did she get home last night?”
“Umm… I’m not sure,” Kara hedged.
Ashanti gave her adon’t play with mestare.
“It is not fair of you to demand I rat out my twin,” Kara said. “That goes against every sibling code there is. You’ve been a big sister long enough to know this. Frankly, I’m disappointed in you, Shanti.”
Ashanti rolled her eyes. “Get to school.”
She started up the stairs, nodding at her parents’ wedding picture on the way. The practice had become as automatic as breathing. On most days it was to reassure them that she had things under control, but on days like today, the nod was her way of accepting the encouragement she knew Lincoln and Felicity Wright were sending her from the great beyond. She needed that encouragement more and more lately when it came to dealing with Kendra.
Before she reached the landing of the second floor of their compact two-story house in New Orleans’s solidly gentrified St. Roch neighborhood, Kendra walked out of the bathroom wearing a plain black T-shirt and faded jeans.
“Hey, Ken, everything okay?”
“Fine.”
The single word was as cold as a Mongolian winter.
“School starts in”—Ashanti looked down at her Apple Watch—“less than fifteen minutes.”
“This is my third year there. I think I know by now what time school starts,” Kendra said.
Ashanti sucked in a breath and counted to five. The therapist had told her a long time ago that addressing hostility with hostility would only lead to more hostility.
“It’s been a rough morning, Ken. I don’t need the attitude.”
“You’re the one who came up here to bother me,” her sister said, edging past her.
“I came to check on you. Excuse me for being concerned, especially after finding your room empty at eleven last night,” Ashanti shouted as she followed her down the stairs.
So much for their hostility-free environment.
She stopped at the base of the stairs, where Kendra saton the bench in their narrow foyer, pulling on a pair of tennis shoes that were as worn and dirty as Kara’s were new and spotless.
“I know you girls are sixteen and deserve some space,” Ashanti said. “But missing curfew on a school night is unacceptable.”
Kara walked up to them with her hands held high. “I just want to point out that I was home before curfew.”
“Oh, just get on your knees and lick her fucking boots,” Kendra said.
“Hey!” Ashanti yelled. “That’s the last time I hear that kind of language in this house, you hear me?”
Kendra stood and pulled the strap of her backpack over her shoulder. “Whatever,” she mumbled.
“Hey,” Ashanti said again. She grabbed her by the arm. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, and I am trying to be as patient as possible, but don’t speak to me that way.”
“Sorry,” Kendra mumbled. In a louder voice, she said, “I’m going to be late for school.”
Ashanti reluctantly let go of her arm. She looked to Kara, who hunched her shoulders as she followed her twin sister out the door.
Ashanti sucked in a breath and whispered the first line of the Serenity Prayer.
