Speed of Life (12 page)

“I'll be here,” he says over his shoulder.

Before falling into bed, I manage to talk Mom out of seventy-five bucks, which she says is for presents but I know is gambling money. In the morning, I use some of it to buy parts and give the rest to the landlord when he drops off his car. I spend two hours freezing my ass off in the driveway tuning up his piece of shit while Amber and Nat are inside, buried under blankets, watching TV and trying to stay warm.

Me and Amber decide to skip holiday presents so we can buy Natalie something really special, since it's her first Christmas ever. Amber wants to get Nat's ears pierced, so that's what we do. It seems mean to me, and Natalie really hollers. I'm sure it hurts like hell. It kind of pains my heart to hear her wail like that for no good reason, but Amber's thrilled with the results, and after the baby gets over our betrayal, she looks pretty cute. We end up buying Amber a pair of matching studs, but I don't want any. I never wear earrings.

The day before Christmas it's slow at the gas station and I get off early. I come home and find Amber at the kitchen table surrounded by wrapping paper, gift tags, and about thirty little boxes of chocolate truffles from the dollar store. She jumps up when she sees me, her face turning pink.

“Don't be mad.”

I sigh. I know what she's up to. I think it's a waste, but she can't help herself. “Why would I be mad?”

“I spent thirty bucks.”

“Jeez, Am, I'm not Scrooge. If you want to give everyone in the family a box of candy, do it. It's not gonna break us.”

She smiles. “Oh, good. Thanks. Want to help me?”

“Yeah, okay.”

The two of us wrap and tag each box. There's one for each of the aunts and uncles, our grandma, all the cousins, Mom, Gil, and me. Even the babies get their own boxes. I make a mental note to pick up something for Amber so she's not the only one at Aunt Ruby's without a gift tomorrow.

Mom and all my aunts have addictions—​gambling, booze, food, or some combo. Except for Aunt Ruby. She loves money too much to waste it. She owns a tavern, but she never drinks, or plays poker in the back room, or eats the fried food. She just counts the takings. She's the one who gives me and Amber hope. She lives in a nice house that she paid for herself by working hard. And also, she's taken Amber under her wing.

She's generous, too, and closes the bar every Christmas Day, inviting the whole family over to eat like pigs and get drunk on free beer and wine. It's a madhouse of staggering aunts and uncles, competing cousins, wrapping paper, and crying babies.

We've been at the tavern for hours, and Natalie's crashed out in the playpen with her cousin, Rocky. I'm not drinking because I'm driving, and after the hangover from the last party Amber went to, she hasn't wanted to partake. Tonight she's allowed herself one hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps as a Christmas treat, and she's nursing it to make it last.

Me, Jade, and Amber are playing darts, and Jade's kicking our asses.

“Thirty,” Amber says, laughing, as she pulls her darts out of the board. “Man, I'm no good at this anymore.”

Jade throws two bull's-eyes and an eighty without even setting her drink down. She tosses her freshly dyed candy-apple-red hair over her shoulder like, Take that! Ever since beauty school, she can't leave her hair alone. She might as well wear a sign that says, “I'm a hairdresser!” I'm surprised she didn't add green streaks for the holidays. “You're no good at darts, Am,” she says, “because you never have any fun anymore. You spend too much time at school.”

“Don't tell her that,” I beg.

Jade ignores me. “Did you hear? Mom had to fire one of her waitresses yesterday. Rita, I think.”

“Are you serious?” Amber asks. “Why?”

“I don't know. Stealing booze, I'm pretty sure. You could get your GED and work here full-time. Forget about washing dishes anymore.”

I throw a dart at Jade, and she yelps when it hits her bare arm. “Hey! That hurt.”

“Don't be a baby.” I throw another one, and it hits her in the thigh. The darts are soft-tipped, so they barely leave a mark.

“Jeez, Crystal. Chill.” Jade throws one back at me as hard as she can, but I catch it.

“Amber's graduating in June,” I say. “Stop screwing with her.”

“I'm not,” Jade says. “But you could be earning real money, Am, six months earlier if you start now—”

“I know. That's what I keep telling Crystal.”

I let out a sigh that sounds more like a growl. It's Christmas, and I've been pretty relaxed today, but Jade's starting to piss me off. “Six months isn't going to—”

“Ask my mom.” Jade grabs Aunt Ruby's arm as she walks by.

“Ask me what?”

“You're a businesswoman,” Amber says. “Tell Crystal I should get my GED and work for you now, since you have an opening.”

Ruby looks us over, sizing up the situation. She puts an arm around Amber's shoulder. “Finish school, sweetheart. You've got all kinds of time.”

“But—”

“Amber, honey, you and me already have a deal for after graduation. You made a plan with your sister. Stick with it. The worst thing you can do in life is to give up your goals before you reach them. You'll never accomplish anything that way.”

Amber sighs. “Yeah, okay. I guess you're right. I'll stick to our plan.”

“There's a good girl.” Aunt Ruby smiles at me like, Problem solved, and I try to smile back, but I can't help wondering what she'd say if I told her I'm the one who's totally messing with our plan for the future.

I'm hit with a wave of nausea. I rush to the bathroom and throw up the two slices of pecan pie I ate. I don't think my stomach can take all this lying. As I walk by the bar after rinsing out my mouth, I see my uncle Liam chipping away at a giant candy cane with an ice pick. Maybe I should borrow the pick when he's done. I could stab Amber in the back right now and get it over with.

When it's time to leave, it takes Amber almost an hour to go around hugging everyone and telling them Merry Christmas. I watch her give each and every one of our relatives her full attention, smiling and laughing, and I know that while I love them all too, I can definitely live without them. Amber's like Mom—​she wants her family around her. I don't think me and Natalie would be enough for her in Kansas. She'd be lonely and that would kill me.

Han comes over the next day with a present for Natalie—​the most gaudy, girly dress ever made. It's red velvet with a big plaid bow, and there's one of those stretchy headbands to match. I try not to laugh because he's so proud of it. He got it at an after-Christmas sale for eleven bucks.

“Maybe she can wear it for New Year's?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “She's got big plans that night. Pooping. Eating. Sleeping. More pooping.” I'm joking around, but Han looks crushed, and Amber smacks me in the shoulder.

“I think it's great,” she says.

“Me too. I was just kidding,” I say.

Neither of us tells him that redheads don't wear red. Instead, Amber tries the dress on Natalie. It clashes with her hair, but she still looks beautiful, and we all
ooh
and
aah
over her. Han takes a couple of pictures with a digital camera he found on the bus. The display's busted, so we won't know if the pictures will turn out until he downloads them, but it's better than nothing.

“I'll print you some,” he says.

I try to make up for my sucky manners. “Cool . . . thanks.”

We don't actually have very many pictures of Natalie because we don't have a camera or phone, so this'll be good. Sometimes Han is so nice, I don't mind having him around.

Two miracles happen in January within minutes of each other, and while the second one is awesome, the first one changes our lives for good. And it's about frickin' time.

Natalie sleeps through the night.

Instead of waking to whimpers or crying at three in the morning because she's hungry, I open my eyes and am shocked to see the clock says 7:18. And the baby's not even screaming. She's sitting in her crib, babbling away.

There's got to be some sort of mistake. “Amber?”

She rolls over. “Huh?”

“Did you get up with Natalie last night?”

She burrows down in her blanket. “No. Didn't you?”

“No! Do you know what this means?” Amber's eyes open wide. “They said this would happen, but I never believed it!” I jump out of bed and throw myself at my sister, hugging her.

“Cue the friggin' angels,” she says, quoting Mom.

“She slept through the night! She slept through the night!” we sing together.

We jump out of bed and pick up Natalie, swinging her around.

“You slept through the night, you sweet, sweet, beautiful baby,” I say.

We're still twirling around when we hear Mom yelling from the other room. “I won the lottery! I won the goddamned lottery! Where is everybody?”

Amber and I stop dancing and stare at each other. This can't be happening—​good things like this don't happen to us. But then Mom comes thumping through the house whooping and hollering. It must be true! We almost crash into her as she comes lumbering into our room, arms wide, face pink, eyes sparkling.

It turns out that while it's not millions, the jackpot
is
five grand.

“Five thousand buckaroos!” Mom yells.

“Woohoo!” Amber says, and we all hug.

I spin Natalie around some more until Amber points out that she looks like she might get sick if I don't stop. Gil wanders in then and sees us jumping up and down. “Something happen?” he asks, rubbing his eyes.

Mom squeezes him against her huge chest. “You're a kept man, now, baby!”

He grins up at her. “My one and only goal in life.”

Mom's had a couple of big wins like this before, and we have a system so it doesn't all disappear. Once we have the check, she signs it over to me and Amber. We take half of it and pay back rent and also rent as far into the future as it'll stretch. Then the five of us pack into my car and hit the grocery store.

We spend over three hours wandering up and down the grocery aisles with two shopping carts, filling them with all the stuff we can never usually afford. Gil gets a steak, which he promises to cook when we're not home, and a box of instant mashed potatoes to go with it. I throw some sour cream into the cart.

“Live large,” I tell him.

He pumps his fist in the air. “Hell, yeah!”

Then we get cheese, real butter, pickles, fresh bread, that fake vegetarian lunchmeat that tastes really good but is super expensive, yogurt, and two gallons of milk. Amber wants a whole case of Chunky vegetable soup, so we pile that onto the bottom of the cart, and then we get about ten boxes of mac and cheese, some instant rice, and ramen noodles.

Mom picks out tomatoes, olives, and canned mushrooms. She's gonna make her special spaghetti sauce on her night off. We all agree on hot chocolate mix, crackers, chips, a pound of fancy coffee—​which takes forever for me and Amber to figure out how to grind in the machine—​and fifty pounds of kibble for Bonehead, plus some rawhide treats.

Finally we hit the baby aisle and spend a ton on Natalie—​cereal, cases of baby food, formula, diapers, a new bottle, a three-pack of bibs, and Desitin . . . the real stuff, not the generic brand. After we unload our loot at home, we get dressed up and go to the Olive Garden for bottomless soup, salad, and pasta. Amber puts Nat in the red dress, and I try not to laugh at the stupid headband because I know my sister likes it.

I don't have anything dressy, and I refuse Amber's offer to loan me something. Instead, I find a not-too-ratty sweater I don't usually wear because it's itchy, and my good jeans. There's a tiny hole in the right knee, but you can barely see it.

Dinner is so good, and we totally stuff ourselves. Mom wants us all to order one more round of everything except the soup so she can fill the Ziploc baggies she carries in her purse, but we remind her the fridge is already overflowing, and she gives in. To top it all off, we each order a different dessert and share them. Natalie has a couple of bites, but then she falls asleep in her highchair, exhausted from the excitement of the day.

By the time we get home, we're all fat and happy and totally beat, but me and Amber have one more job to do. We get Nat to bed, and after Mom and Gil disappear into their room, we hide the rest of the money all over the house like we're the Easter Bunny. At the bank, we got a bunch of fives, tens, and twenties, and three fifties. We stick them under cushions and in the sugar bowl that no one uses, behind the fridge, in the back of the silverware drawer, places like that. For some reason, Mom gets a real kick out of finding money. This way she won't blow it all at once, too.

As we finally sink into our freezing-cold beds, the one thing I've been refusing to think about all day creeps around the edges of my mind. Tomorrow, when Amber thinks I'm at work, I'll actually be at the community college taking the SATs. The bottomless pasta turns over in my stomach, and I swallow hard to keep it down.

Because I started studying for the SATs so late, I've put off taking the test until the last minute. Applications to McPherson are due by February first, and I'll get my test scores back in about three weeks, so I should just make it.

It never occurs to me to set the alarm, because Natalie's been our wake-up call for the last six months. Of course, now she's sleeping through the night, which I wasn't counting on. It's only when Mom comes home from her graveyard shift that I manage to shake off some crazy dream and realize I've got twenty minutes to get to the college.

Natalie and Amber are already up, and I get dressed fast. I run a brush through my hair while I take a pee, then wash my face and hands. I kiss Natalie goodbye and I'm almost out the door when Amber looks up from the puzzle she's doing at the kitchen table and says, “I thought you were going to work.”