I punched the final sale into the calculator. Short again. This was the third time this month. I glanced over at the mountain of papers littering my desk. Bill. Bill. Double past due stamps screamed at me from each page. A curse escaped my lips, and I leaned back in the poorly constructed Walmart office chair Lynnette had purchased. It creaked under my weight, a signal that it could buckle under the pressure. Yeah, me too, honestly.
My phone rang. I already knew it was Tony from the loan servicer. I sighed and scrubbed my hand down my face. Grumbling, I snatched up the phone, preparing to stall Tony with an even more elaborate lie than last time. I answered with a curt greeting. I heard only breathing initially.
My brows furrowed. I sat up, locking into the conversation. I heard my name through the receiver after the heavy breaths. I responded, only to be cut off by the person. It was Laken, I realized.
Laken, the brother who abandoned Lynnette and me. He was Lake to me because I could never pronounce his full name as a kid. He left us with shattered bottles and a battered mother. Daddy spared no rods for nobody. I wanted to curse him, cuss him out so bad he felt an ounce of the pain Lynnette and I had suffered. He had ESP or something because he spoke up before my tirade began.
He called me “baby brother,” but I hadn’t been a child since eight when I had to start protecting Lynnette. He rambled on. I caught on to the apology tour immediately. I let him have his say before I let the emotional ammo fly. But he saved himself because he then spoke about wanting to help with the business. The family one that our sperm donor left in ruins to us. So much for wanting better for your kids than you had.
Laken wanted to intertwine his business with ours. I scratched the scruff on my chin. It was past time for a shave. My first words to my big brother in fifteen years were to inquire more about this business. He said a lot of jargon, but I ain’t never heard of a business that worked like that. He finally got to the point, and brows shot up. Unmoored, I answered robotically, real polite. I told him I would think about it and call him back.
I heard the dial tone next. I spaced out. Lake had wiggled his way under my skin. Eight-year-old me wanted to believe him so bad. It would be Lynnette’s and my fairytale ending. Big brother to the rescue. I shook my head. I never wanted to forget that he first taught us that nobody was coming to save us. I sighed and placed my head in my hands, overwhelmed.
Lynnette burst into my office then, narrating her thoughts. I chuckled softly as she flitted around the office. She deserved the world after experiencing so much strife in her 18 years in that hellish home. I contemplated telling her about Lake. Her only memory of him was abandonment. Would she even care even if I explained? It wouldn’t be right not to say anything; we’d struggled together this long. If there was an opportunity for more, I wanted to take it.
Lynnette was calling my name while I was thinking. I braved the rickety office chair swivel to face her. She beamed down at me and jabbered on. I smiled back, but my mind was elsewhere. She took a moment to notice I wasn’t responding with my usual faux gusto about the typical activities or drama of her day. She asked what was wrong. I breathed in. Then, I told her about Lake. Her face was a collage. So many emotions flashed across her features. She had Momma’s almond-shaped eyes and wide nose. But, she had that man’s temperament. It flared up in moments like this, and I worried she would end up hurting someone else, just like we were hurt.
Once her shock wore off, the irritation kicked on like A/C. She told me I was crazy for even considering his offer. She expressed her worry for me and my feelings but also for the mattress store. She said we could lose it if we got caught. Although the past month had been rough, it had kept us afloat with rent and grocery money at the very least. I offered my rebuttals, but she wouldn’t budge. She never did. Just like him. Her anger could be tasted in the peppery air around her. She begrudgingly let me know it was up to me at the end of the day. That I knew him better than she ever would. That I was her big brother, and I’d always taken care of her. It was like she already knew my answer.
A couple days passed. I redialed the number Lake had called from. He answered on the first ring. I told him I wanted to link our businesses, but this was business only. I didn’t want any more disappointment for myself or Lynnette. He said he understood and talked to me about next steps. He told me to wait on a call from somebody named Shorty for the drop. I responded affirmatively, then hung up. I never imagined moving weight through my family’s mattress store. But for Lynnette, I would move mountains so she could have everything she deserved.
Luci Strong is a writer, hailing from Mississippi. Her Southern experiences and love of the Scholastic Book Fair shape her style. Her works have appeared on the blog for aspiring writers, HeyYoungWriter, and the podcast, Her Own Words. When she is not reading, writing, or working in healthcare, she enjoys baking, long nature walks, and connecting with fellow authors at book events. Her current read is Our Vicious Oaths by N.E. Davenport.
Featured image by Julian Hochgesang on Unsplash.
