“I don’t know him. I don’t want him paying for things,” Inari argued.
“Aw, he paid for them?” Ayla gushed. “Don’t be rude, Nari! Mama wouldn’t like that.”
“Shut up, Ayla!” Inari hissed. “What I look like taking anything from him? He just came over here and got an obviously regular bouquet of flowers for somebody else. Who the hell he think he is, Casanova?”
“The flowers are for his mother, Jane.” Laci shook her head. “She died about five years ago. Moose visits her grave every Sunday with fresh flowers.”
“Wow.” Ayla pressed a hand to her chest. “And you were judging him. Shame on you, Nari.”
“Morgan and his brothers are different. Having them in your corner is not a bad thing, though. I know Dane messed up by not telling you what he was doing, but I’m sure Moose meant no harm. He’s an artist. He’s been doing tattoos since he was eighteen. I was just glad when he stopped putting graffiti up all over town.” Laci snickered.
Rolling her eyes, Inari shoved the bills back into her wallet and tossed them in her purse. She picked up her flowers again after Laci had arranged them perfectly and turned to her sister.
“Let’s go.”
“Tell Dane I said hi!” Laci waved after them.
“Guess what?” Ayla rocked on her heels with a lopsided grin. “I just got a hit on my resume I put out there last night. I’ve got an interview on Monday! They are keeping everything undisclosed until the day of, but it sounds very promising! I’d get to be a private chef for a family, but they want someone who can do a live in situation.”
“You’re going to move in with some strange family and cook for them?” Inari questioned on their trek to where the streetcar could pick them up and take them back downtown.
“The money is good! I even get a sign on bonus. I can still pick Dane up, too.”
“I don’t know, Lala?—”
“Don’t try to talk me out of this, Nari. We can’t live together forever.”
“Why not? You don’t like living with me and Dane?”
“It’s not that. Dane’s growing up. He’ll be going to college and moving out soon enough. You also need to get a life outside of Vintage Vault,” Ayla pointed out.
“So, you want to abandon me just like him?”
“Really, Inari!”
“That’s what I’m hearing, Lala. I have never complained about you living with me. I like that we can come home and be able to vent about our day together. Dane loves it too.”
“I’m twenty-four years old, Inari. You raised me to be independent, remember?” she challenged with a lifted brow.
Digging a bag of grapes from one of her bags, she plucked a few off the vine and into her mouth hungrily. The farmer’s market always left her starving. Now, she was going home to make cold cuts and wraps for them to eat.
“Whatever.”
“You could be a little more supportive.” Ayla sneered as they neared the street.
The streetcar was uphill, heading in their direction, so they were right on time.
“Excuse me? All I have ever done is support you. In every way,” she reminded her.
“And you act like I’m eternally indebted to you because of it!” Ayla belted. “I’ve never been ungrateful and always pulled myweight too. Dane is just as much my responsibility as he is yours. I helped raised him, didn’t I?”
“I’m not about to argue with you about this.” Inari threw her hand up. “It’s bad enough I decided to see Danilo today. I have to bring all this shit up to Dane and let him choose if he wants to see this nigga and give him his time. And I hate that shit! Do you understand how hard it is for me to see Danilo and have to compromise with this nigga after everything?”
Ayla wanted to respond, but the streetcar pulled up. Inari hopped on first and took a seat in the very back. Deciding she didn’t have anything left to say, Ayla took a seat in the middle and set her bags beside her. She wanted to be excited about something for herself for once. She felt so obligated to Inari and Dane that she put her own dreams on the backburner a lot of the time. She could have finished culinary school sooner if she could go full time and not have to worry about working. Inari always said if you don’t work, you don’t eat, though, and she’d instilled that same work ethic in Ayla. Without their parents in the picture, they were all the other could ever count on.
She’d made her own sacrifices for Inari that she swept under the rug, starting with after school activities. She couldn’t play volleyball or run track because she had to be home to tend to Dane so Inari could go to school and run the trap and accomplish her goals. She used to tell Ayla she was helping her now, so her future would be a little easier. While she didn’t expect a handout from her sister and chose to work, she was tired of giving up every aspect of her life to her. Sometimes she wanted some shit for herself.
The hour and a half trip back home was quiet. Nothing but seventies songs filled the airwaves as Inari drove and Ayla stared out her window. Donny Hathaway sang about a little ghetto boy, and Inari’s hands gripped the wheel tighter with the cadence of his voice. Ayla was young when their parents died, but she knew better. She’d never place the knowledge of that burden on her baby sister. When they reached the house, the two stepped inside, and Dane emerged from the living room.
