Eddie started talking again, shaking me out of the moment. “I gotta tel ya, I’m not getting a happy feeling about this.”
“I’l take care of it,” I told him.
That made Eddie’s face change. I couldn’t read what it meant but I saw the change.
“How’re you gonna do that?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
I shook my head.
“So how’re you gonna take care of it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’l figure something out.” His eyes flashed.
“Something that requires another trip to the bank machine?”
I winced because I felt the question in my gut. I felt it for two reasons. One: Eddie asked it and it hurt that his asking it, and this whole conversation, meant he knew my Dad was a bum. Two: because there was nothing left in the machine.
Whatever it was I did to fix this mess would probably require me taking a trip to the Stripper Boutique and buying a g-string and pasties, which truly was not a happy thought.
“Jet,” Eddie said and I stopped thinking my unhappy thoughts and looked at him.
His face wasn’t pissed off anymore. His eyes were different. That difference communicated itself to me in physical ways, reminding me of his proximity and also reminding me that he was hot.
“That wasn’t fair,” I told him.
He didn’t answer.
I carried on, “It’s none of your business. None of this is any of your business.”
“I’m making it my business.” He told me, “Fair warning, Jet, I’m making you my business.” I felt a flutter in several areas of my body simultaneously.
I felt a flutter in several areas of my body simultaneously.
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that but I was sure it scared the heck out of me.
“Don’t worry about it, Eddie,” I said, wanting to make a move, get away from Eddie (far away from Eddie) and find my Dad and sort this out. “I’l take care of it.”
“What if you can’t?” he asked.
“I can.”
“What do you do if you can’t?” he repeated.
“I can.”
I mean, I did have years of sorting out al my family members’ problems. It wasn’t just Mom’s breakdown after Dad left. It wasn’t just her stroke. It wasn’t just giving Dad cash and a place to crash every time he rol ed into town. It wasn’t just letting Lottie cry on my shoulder, both close up and long distance, when some guy walked al over her heart. It was everything. In my life, “Who you gonna cal ?” was not answered with, “Ghostbusters”. It was answered with, “Jet”.
Eddie didn’t know that, of course, and I wasn’t going to tel him; but stil .
“I’m guessing any problem with Slick is a problem you can’t take care of,” Eddie said.
“I’l deal with it.”
“Jet.”