“Sell some of the shit that Melody and you bought with the ten grand you stole,” I suggest.
“We can’t,” she cries out. “Mel paid off her credit card debt…it was…she bought makeup and things. We can’t sell anything, Cain.”
“She boughtwhatfor ten thousand dollars?” I am incredulous.
She looks chagrined. “Make-up is expensive.”
I shake my head. “Whatever! Like I said, I’ve got no money to give you. Accept Macy’s offer. Or find another job. Live in a smaller apartment.”
“It is small. Just two bedrooms.”
I look at her with a furrowed brow, considering. “Paula, you’re a grown-up. You’re on your own.”
She bursts into tears. “Can you ask Mom and Dad to help? They sold the house. They made money. They can give me some.”
The corners of my eyes twitch in exasperation. “Paula, you gotta earn a living, girl.”
“I hate you,” she flings at me and then runs out.
This is exactly how she acted ten years ago. Like she’s frozen in time, trapped in some emotional time loop—stunted, clinging to her teenage self. Still, she’s my sister, and I love her. I don’t like her very much right now, but I feel responsible for her.
My heart aches for her.
My parents blame Melody, think she’s the rot that crept into Paula’s roots. And maybe they’re right. As the only child of much older parents, Melody was coddled—never disciplined, never challenged. Now, her parents are in their seventies, and they don’t have the strength or the will to deal with her anymore. They want out.
“We want to sell the house and move somewhere warmer—like your parents,” Mr. Brand told me over the phone when everything went down. “But…she’s still here.”
“Sir, you’ve got to take care of yourselves,” I advised. “She’s an adult. Let her live like one.”
From the background, I heard Mrs. Brand’s voice crack: “That’s what I keep telling him.”
So, when my parents listed their house, the Brands followed suit. Melody’s childhood home sold faster than ours, and they were gone within a month, relieved, I think, to finally be free of the daughter who spent her life manipulating them.
“Cain, Cain.” I hear my name being yelled out as I walk to my truck.
Faith finishes her shift at nine on Mondays, because she starts earlier. I’ve set it up so Georgia closes Ripley’s on Mondays, giving me time to pick Faith up and drop her off at her place. I do that every day she works. I pick her up and drop her off. It’s a ritual to start and end my day.
Right now, I want to rush to her.
I need some peace after that disturbing conversation with Paula. I need mysweet thing.
I turn and groan when I see Melody run up to me.
She’s in running clothes. Obviously designer wear.Christ!
“Melody, I don’t have time for this. Paula was here with her palm stretched out, and I said no. I’m sayin’ no to you as well.”
Melody smiles warmly. “I know. I’m not here for…that.”
“Then what?”
She makes doe eyes. Juts her tits out in her sports bra.
I cringe.
Does she really think this is going to work?
“Look, I just…I want us to be friends again. I’m sorry about what happened. I should’ve never gone along with Paula. I know that but?—”
