“You took my purse, Shane. With my ex-boss’s credit card. I was already putting myself in hot water for staying at his place without getting permission properly first, and then that? It made me look bad. Do you remember that guy that came in yelling?”
He shakes his head. “I remember taking the purse, Jayjay. I don’t know what possessed me.” He shrugs and opens his mouth, nothing coming out for a minute. It’s like he can’t explain himself.
“That was Aiden’s brother, who was moving into the condo that day, who was going to hire me to do for him the job I did for his brother, until he saw the state the place was in, saw you were there getting a blowjob in his brother’s room.”
Shane’s shoulders slump and he closes his mouth.
“And then you took off and I didn’t know what happened to you and my purse was gone with the last of my money and Austin Carmichael found it in the elevator, tossed. You tossed it like I was just a nobody you’d ripped off. And then I was there begging him to not throw me out on the street because I had nothing, no money, nowhere to go and you were… I didn’t know where… gone to party with some girl to get Viagra to help you get off.”
He squeezes his eyes shut tight and starts hyperventilating. He used to do that when Dad would lose it on him, sit there and breathe hard over and over.
It used to make me panic. I was afraid, back then, Shane would stop breathing, give himself a heart attack.
Today, though, I sit and watch him do it and I don’t feel that sense of panic rising in me.
I watch. And I wait.
He needs to hear this. He needs to know what he’s done. I’m not making excuses for him anymore.
He says nothing.
Finally, I speak up again. “Are you back on your meds?”
He nods, not looking at me.
“Are they helping?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet. It takes time.”
I exhale, emptying my lungs and wait. I wait a long time before Shane finally speaks.
“My lawyer is gonna try to get me in rehab and I might spend some time in the psych ward. I might not get jail time. We’ll see if he can cut a deal. I’m sorry, Jada. I really fucked up this time. I own that. I was using because it was taking the edge off what was goin’ on in here.” He points to his temple with his index finger. “Things are wrong in here, baby sis, and I don’t know why I can’t get them to stay right. You did good, you tried to help me and I will never forget that, but I need to fix me now.” He pounds his fist against his chest. “I have to do it; it’s up to me. Okay? You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m gonna fix me.”
The dam bursts and I’m weeping.
“You shouldn’t have had to take care of me, sis. I should’ve taken care of you. You’ve been trying to take care of me since you were five and I was nine, when Mom wouldn’t and Dad couldn’t be bothered. You’ve always tried to take care of me, and I let you down. I’m sorry. I love you baby sis.”
“I love you, t-too.”
“You okay? Where are you staying?” he asks, straightening up.
“Aiden’s. I talked his brother into letting me work for him for the three months he’s here. Well, I guess Aiden’s wife Carly talked him into it. But yeah, I’m okay.”
“Good. Sedgewick works at The Rift on weekends. If you call there you can tell him when you’ll get our stuff. I wouldn’t leave it in that warehouse for long.”
“Good idea. I’ll see about a storage locker.”
“He’ll probably move it for you for a case of beer.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“I gotta go. I’m not feelin’ so good. Gonna try and sleep a little.”
“Okay, Shane. Take those meds. Get better.”
“Yeah.” He looks off vacantly.
“Ask your lawyer to keep me posted on the court date. I really want to see you get well, Shane. And you can. I know you can. I believe it wholeheartedly. I’ll visit again as soon as I can.”
He kisses his fingers and touches the glass. I kiss mine and touch it, too. My chin quivers and I sniffle.
He puts the phone down and walks away.
I close my eyes and blow out a long breath.
I really, truly hope my brother can turn things around.
I really, truly hope he gets a good doctor and the right medicine, the right counseling.
As I leave, I phone my father. It’s a Saturday afternoon and I know what he’s doing. Dad’s doing what Dad does. He goes out to the driveway to tinker with or shine his old muscle car. Then he takes it for a drive and goes for a beer with a couple of his buddies who also have old muscle cars. And then he goes home, heats up a frozen dinner, and falls asleep watching sports with a beer on the TV tray and a burnt-out cigarette in the ashtray.