Gotten a new and better job at which she also sucked
Incited a pissing contest involving classic rocks songs between a deputy sheriff and a famous actor
Indirectly caused a riot
Inadvertently launched the musical career of her ex-boyfriend
Decked her ex-boyfriend
Gotten hit on by a famous actor
And all of these were witnessed by Eli. Who had, earlier in the week, suggested she ought to make better decisions.
She fell asleep feeling sodden with failure, but she awoke feeling charged with penitent purpose and sprang from bed. First, she reflexively moved her tiger to a spot in her bedroom window. Where it could look out toward the highway.
And after a very short shower—water and the energy to heat it cost money, after all—she pulled on jeans and a boring long-sleeved berry-colored t-shirt. And twisted her hair up into some sort of demure Gibson Girl–esque hairdo and secured it with a barrette.
There! It was symbolic. Maybe reining in all that hair would help keep potential chaos at bay. And she could drive to work today, so she wouldn’t risk jostling it loose. She stared a moment longer. And then she felt too fettered and muted and she panicked, so she added a pair of dangly silver teardrop-shaped earrings that ended with a small sparkly blue stone. Quite pretty, and quite fake. That was a little better.
It was barely past dawn and her mom was still asleep. She went to make a pot of coffee and found a sad, saggy, empty bag of beans in the freezer.
She made a feral sound in her throat.
There was a note in the middle of the kitchen table.
Glo—
Borrowed the truck to go pick up some lumber to fix the gutters. And I drank the last of the coffee. Also I used the last of the detergent. And I drank your Diet Coke.
P.S. I left a six pack of Mickey’s big mouth in the fridge to get cold! Don’t drink them! I’ll be back for them tonight.
P.P.S. Okay, you can drink one. ONE! Just ONE. You got that? One.
P.P.P.S. I heard you caused a riot at the Misty Cat last night. Good one!
P.P.P.P.S. If you love me, you’ll put any extra ten-dollar bills you might have lying around right HERE.
Belowherehe’d drawn a big, currency-sized rectangle.
P.P.P.P.P.S. Just ONE (1) !!!!!
Your loving bro,
John-Mark
Glory studied the note.
Then she slipped a pen from the little soup can pencil holder next to the telephone and carefully drew a hand with an extended middle finger in the rectangle. She added a smiley face to it so that it looked like a friendly cartoon character. She signed it.
Xoxo Your loving sister
She hauled her weary, shame-soaked, heart-achey but somewhat animated-by-hope butt down to the Misty Cat on foot, taking her favorite route, down along Whiskey Creek, through the pasture and over the fence, down to the dirt road. The big elm was officially wearing fall colors; and it would do its annual total striptease pretty soon, dumping piles of flame-colored leaves at its base. A few were already sprinkled around the trunk.
She pulled her jacket tighter around her. It was a little chilly, which reminded her that they were coming up on winter soon. And winter meant heating bills.
Or burning their furniture in the fireplace.
Ha.
