I know. We both do.” She looked over her shoulder at Moe, standing at the register. “And we're sick of the excuses, Vinnie. We're done.”
The fury was quick to strike as I narrowed my eyes. “Are you firing me?”
“No,” she groaned, closing her eyes and planting her hands on her hips. “But I'm sendin' you home today. You need a break, you need to ... I dunno, reassess and think, and I can't have you poisoning customers.”
I didn't want to go home. Andy wouldn't be there yet and all I'd have to keep me company, would be the ghost of my father, lurking around every corner and door. That was the last thing I needed. So, I shook my head, ready to plead with my sister. But she held up a finger and sharpened her stern glare.
“I'm not negotiating, Vin. Get the hell out of here. Zach's comin' by later for a sonogram appointment, so you can come back to see him. But I don't want you here now.”
Jenna was a stubborn woman—she'd inherited the trait from our father—and there was no point in arguing when her mind was already made up. So, I collected my stuff and stormed out, ignoring the curious faces of a few diners.
I wandered the streets for a while, enjoying a cool bite in the late summer air. This had been one hell of a summer, but fall was coming soon, and I couldn't wait, as I occasionally tipped my head back to breathe deep and fill my lungs.
Eventually, I grew tired of walking and knew I had to go home. And it wasn't all that bad, walking through the door into the empty kitchen. I saw Andy's hospital shoes by the door, her sweatshirt hanging over the back of a chair, and a book she'd brought home from work on the table. All these little traces of her seemed to mask what was really in this place, and I could live with that.
I sat on the couch and watched TV, doing my best to ignore the stockpile of cocaine on the coffee table. I didn't like to get high without Andy, but I was also exhausted, unable to stay awake without its influence keeping me energized. Before long I'd fallen asleep, only to be woken up by someone knocking at the door.
“Yo, Vin! You in there?”
It was Zach. Fucking Zach, showing up unannounced. I instantly flew into a panic, grabbing the bags of coke off the coffee table and shoving them under the couch cushions, before rushing to answer the door.
“Hey,” I said, breathlessly. “Sorry, I was sleeping.”
“Yeah, Jen told me you've been tired and shit,” he said, brushing past me and inviting himself in. He slowly surveyed the place—the floor, table, walls—then said, “Holy shit ... the hell is goin' on here?”
My entire nervous system took a jolt as I asked, “What do you mean?”
My brother shook his head. “Vin,” he bent over and picked up a used paper plate, “this place is a fuckin' mess. Don't you guys clean?”
I didn't have an answer for him. The truth was, I couldn't remember the last time the apartment was swept. I couldn't remember the last time I'd even thought about it. Not when all of my time at home was spent getting high and having sex. It was a miracle that I managed to do laundry every once in a while.
Zach slowly walked through the apartment, shaking his head and sighing, probably thinking about what Pops would've said if he was alive. I bit my tongue, watching warily as he got closer to the couch. Hoping that he wouldn't have a sudden urge to lift the cushions, hoping that I had hidden it all, and hoping he'd turn around and get the hell out.
“Yo,” I said, as he got closer to the couch, “I wanna smoke. You wanna go outside with me?”
He glanced over his shoulder, then nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
Relieved, I snatched my cigarettes and lighter off the table in a hurry. I made a beeline for the window, urging him with my mind to follow, and thank Christ, he did. He was close behind me and I opened the window, ready to step over the ledge and onto the fire escape.
“Wait a second.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “What's up?”
Zach was still for a moment, just staring in the direction of the couch. I had hidden the cocaine, though. I was sure of it. But he kept staring, and then he slowly walked over.