Chapter 2

2: 2

2

"Naomi, don't beg him."

"Come on, I'll take you for a good meal first, then we'll go find a place to stay."

Freda snatched the suitcase back.

Ignoring her sister's protests, she pulled her toward the door.

"Freda, if you walk out that door, don't bother coming back."

"Come back now and I'll pretend none of this ever happened. Are you sure you want to keep this up?"

I finally couldn't hold it in, and my voice dropped into a warning.

Her steps didn't slow.

The door slammed hard behind her. That was her answer.

...

The next evening, on my way home from work.

My phone rang. It was Naomi.

"Leon, are you off work yet? Could you come pick my sister up now and take her home?"

"I've already found a place, right near the hospital, so I can go in for treatment on my own. My sister doesn't need to stay with me."

Listening to that eager, ingratiating tone, a knowing look crossed my face.

Too proud to say it herself, so she sent her sister to do the talking.

"Heh. So your sister's finally realized she was wrong."

"Fine. Send me the address. I just got off work, I'll drive over now. Have her get her bags ready so I'm not sitting there waiting half the day."

An hour later, after circling the block a few times, I found the place Naomi was renting.

The room was tiny, barely enough for a bed and a table to eat at.

The place was scrubbed clean, but the air still carried a stale, moldy smell that wouldn't lift.

"Leon, you're here. Come sit."

Naomi saw me and pushed herself up from the bed, her face uneasy and awkward.

Freda sat beside her, sorting out her medicine.

I cleared my throat and covered my nose in distaste.

I looked at the grimy stool and didn't move a step.

"Naomi, how did you end up in a place like this? The smell is unbearable. How is anyone supposed to live here?"

"I'll skip the seat. Freda, I'll wait in the car. Hurry up and come out."

I turned and walked out of the room. It was too suffocating in there, almost sickening.

By the time Freda came out, several cigarette butts had piled up at my feet.

I looked at her empty hands, confused.

"What took you so long? Don't you know the traffic's terrible this time of day? And where are your bags?"

Freda didn't answer. She just got into the passenger seat.

I let out a scoff and dropped it. I was long used to her acting like this.

After every fight she was the same, saying nothing.

Stuck in traffic for an hour, we finally got home.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and held out my hand out of habit.

"With the traffic, we'll call it twenty."

The car was mine, so gas and tolls got split too.

I was only enforcing the rules, strictly.

Freda said nothing this time. She tapped her phone and sent the money over.

"Payment received: forty dollars."

I opened the transfer screen.

I paused when I saw the note she'd written: gas fare.

Back inside, I pressed her on what she meant by that.

Freda didn't even lift her head.

"Gas fare. Whatever it comes to, that's what it is. From now on, I won't owe you anything."

I opened my mouth to say that wasn't what I'd meant.

But by the time the words came out, they'd changed.

"So this is you admitting you were wrong? Fine, I forgive you this time."

"I'm in a good mood today. Let's go out for the hot pot you love. Same rules as always, we split it."

I went back to the room and changed my clothes.

When I was ready to head out, Freda was still sitting on the couch, not moving.

On the coffee table sat a divorce agreement.