Until Cece (Happily Ever Alpha World)

“Not to mention you can get your own car using the money Chaz got from selling yours in Montana,” I add, eyeing her and trying to keep the guilt at bay over that too. She sold her car without telling me in order to help pay the bills around here. When Mom mentioned something about it in a phone call, I ripped my little sister a new one. I had no idea we had depleted her savings that much. She made it sound like it was no big deal, that she had plenty to spare.

My sister fibbed.

As soon as I found out, I made her promise not to touch any more of the money she got for selling it. And with a short conversation with Stephanie and Winston about our situation, we got my schedule handled in a way to where I could be home with the girls on the days Mia would work. And it actually worked out perfectly, because most of Mia’s hours would be while the girls are at school anyway.

We cancelled cable, keeping only our Netflix account. My gym membership is long gone. No more makeup box or workout clothes subscriptions. No more lawncare—we do that ourselves. No more shopping just for fun. Grocery shopping is done online on free pickup days, which saves a ton of money since we aren’t roaming the aisles and grabbing things just because they look good. It’s always done with a meal plan in place and only ingredients bought for each meal. Store brand, not name brand.

I bring dinner home with me on the days I work the lunch shift, Winston whipping something up for the five of us, even when I told him it isn’t necessary. I told him early on that I didn’t want to burden him, and that I felt bad for taking his charity. He very quickly shot that notion down, looking downright heated that him feeding me was anything but charity. I could’ve sworn he mumbled something about taking care of what’s his, but I had to have been imagining it.

We’ve gotten it down to where our only monthly bills are the mortgage, utilities, insurance, and my Tahoe, and still, the half Mike has dropped down to paying and what I’m making at the restaurant just wasn’t enough to cover everything, so we were dipping into my sister’s savings with the promise I’d someday pay her back.

Now that her savings are completely gone, we had no other choice but for her to get a job. Hence the overwhelming sense of guilt that’s eating away at me, because not only is my life a dumpster fire, but now I’ve dragged my sister into the flames along with me.

“The Tahoe will be a big chunk we can stop worrying about. A $700 note is absolutely ridiculous when it’s a car you don’t even want and can much less afford,” she tells me, and I nod.

“I never wanted the damn thing to begin with. I’d be much happier with a minivan. I have no shame. Push a button and my freaking trunk opens? That’s way cooler to me than saying I drive a ‘sports utility vehicle.’ Um, okay, Karen. You going off-roading to a deer lease anytime soon? No. You’re driving to the fucking esthetician to refresh your Botox, so calm down. Shit.” I roll my eyes but then grin when Mia lets out a fit of giggles.

“I saw some pretty nice-looking minivans while I was there doing the interview. We’ll get you hooked up, sis,” she assures, and we high-five.

One month later

“Click it.”

“But we’re already struggling money-wise, and it’s not like I have a shitload of extra time on my hands to be wasting more on—”

“Click the goddamn button, Cece. We’ve already talked about this,” Mia growls, and I scoff, my eyes widening.

“Ugh, when did you get so freaking bossy? Fine.” I click the mouse, in which the arrow on the computer screen is hovering over the Submit button on an application.

“And congratulations, sis. You’ve just applied for college. I’m so proud,” she mock-sobs, wiping away fake tears, and I swat at her.

“Shut up. We don’t even know if they’ll accept me.” I shake my head, and she laughs.

“It’s a community college, not an Ivy League university. You’ll get in. And most of the tuition is covered with grants and that scholarship money you won for that essay you wrote. Including the links to your Pinterest and a PowerPoint presentation on your different homemaker tips and tricks was pure genius,” she replies.

“Ugh, it sucks having to start all the way from the bottom with stupid core classes. I thought I’d never have to step foot inside another math classroom for the rest of my life. Oh how the mighty have fallen.” I pout, my head coming down to bang on top of my arm resting on the kitchen island.