Arrogant Bastard - Julie Capulet Page 0,2
railing doesn’t look any sturdier than it did five minutes ago. “Maybe a coat of paint will help.”
Josie gives me a look. “Paint doesn’t hold things together, Loon.” It’s the nickname she gave me a long time ago.
Josie has brown hair that’s pulled back into a messy bun. Her dark eyes glint with that familiar twinkle and a slightly-exasperated expression. Her cheeks are pink with health and the kind of glow that could only mean one thing. Josie found out around six months ago that she got pregnant after a one night stand with a guy she never heard from again. The discovery was a shock, of course, and the past few months haven’t been easy for her, to put it mildly. We cried together, because the whole scenario reminded us too much of the reason we left Iowa in the first place.
But once Josie got used to the idea, we decided there was no reason the two of us couldn’t raise that baby right here in Key West. I promised I’d help her every step of the way. Of course I will. Besides, it won’t be a bad thing for that little baby to grow up watching sunsets and playing in the sand, we figured.
“How’d your appointment go?” I ask her.
Her eyes fill with tears.
“Josie.” Fearing the worst, I pull her into a hug. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s twins, Luna.”
“Twins?” I pull back and hold her shoulders gently as I take in this information.
“Twin boys.”
“Wow. Josie. That’s …”
“Scary as fuck. I know. I don’t know how to raise a baby by myself, let alone two. Luna, what am I going to do?”
I hug her again as she breaks down. She’s done a lot of worrying over the past few months and I don’t blame her. We have a budget health insurance plan that won’t cover all her costs. Our bar gets plenty of customers but the rougher edges of the much-needed maintenance are really starting to show. Who am I kidding, they were always showing. It would be very easy to take this business to the next level—if we had a pile of cash to throw at it, which we don’t. We tried to borrow more but the bank said we don’t have enough equity. In fact the loan officer we spoke to was amazed we got the loan we did in the first place.
But we’ll figure it out, like we always do. That’s the thing about life, you have to figure it out. There’s no other choice. “You’re going to have those babies right here and we’re going to take care of them together. On the beach, like we always talked about.”
“That fantasy included true love and filthy rich men, Luna. Not destitute single mothers.”
I don’t remember the men being filthy rich in our fantasies, not mine at least, but I don’t bother saying this. As for the destitute single mothers comment, I let that slide. When you’re seventeen and on the road to Key West, running from your past and finally excited about what your life might become, your fantasies star hot hunks with surfboards and a sensitive side. When you’re twenty-three, alone, pregnant with twins and working all hours of the day and night to keep your struggling business afloat, I guess things tend to change. Anyway, I try to look on the bright side. “Everything will work out, Josie. You’ll see.”
“Would you get real here, please, Luna? I’m knocked up with twins by a man whose last name I don’t even know who’s now long gone. And I spent my inheritance on a failing business that needs a complete overhaul.” I guess the pregnancy hormones are really starting to kick in. Then again, when she puts it like that, it does sound sort of dire. “Did you happen to see the latest online review, Loon? It went something like this: ‘The food was hearty and the cocktails were strong as hell—and thank God for that because I needed four so I could concentrate less on my concerns that the dilapidated deck was about to collapse and hurl me into the sea, which, four cocktails in, would probably have drowned me.’”
I saw the review. Someone posted it last night. “That’s our only one star review,” I say defensively. It’s the reason I got my hammer out this morning to see if I could try to spruce things up a little. But all I’ve got to show for my efforts is a big-ass splinter, blood dripping from my thumb