The Woman in 3B - Eliza Lentzski Page 0,85

become a prisoner to my job ran through my brain.

A goofy smile tickled the corners of my mouth as I observed my family, unnoticed. Dawn and June sat next to each other in the sparsely populated bleacher seating of the elementary gymnasium where I’d watched June play piano only two weeks earlier. Dawn’s texts had said that Peter was testing for his first taekwondo belt that day. I welcomed the mid-day distraction that would keep me from drinking and feeling sorry for myself.

I grabbed my phone from my purse and shot off a text to my sister.

New haircut?

Dawn hadn’t actually done anything different to her hair since the last time I’d seen her, but I couldn’t resist creeping her out, just a little. I watched her rummage in her purse for her phone. When she read my text message, I saw the confusion settle on her features.

I bounded up the risers with a bounce in my step. “Hey.”

Dawn looked up from her phone and folded her arms across her chest. Instead of looking pleased to see me, she actually looked annoyed. “Two visits in a month? That’s got to be a record.”

I tried to ignore her sour attitude. I wasn’t there for her, after all. I was there to support Peter.

“Hey, Junie,” I greeted my niece.

“Hey, Aunt Alice,” she returned.

I noticed another absence in the bleacher seating. “Where’s your dad?”

Her small shoulders shrugged. “He had to work.”

I looked briefly in my sister’s direction. She stared straight ahead, her jaw set at a hard angle. I wondered if David’s repeated absence was the reason for her bad mood.

I plopped down on the bleachers seating next to June. She sat in between Dawn and me. “Has your brother been practicing breaking boards at home?” I asked.

In truth, I had no idea what went on at one of these things or if five-year-old ninjas were supposed to be able to do that.

June giggled at the suggestion. “No.”

“That would be a pretty cool skill to have,” I continued, teasingly. “We could send him outside in winter to chop all the firewood. He wouldn’t even need an axe.”

June laughed again, louder this time, earning a quick glare from her mom as a warning to settle down. I was a riot to seven year olds.

“Uh oh,” I faux whispered, loud enough so Dawn could still hear me. “We’d better behave or your mom’s gonna yell at us.”

I quickly sat up straight, which was uncomfortable to sustain in the bleacher seating. I kept my back erect and stared straight ahead.

My niece copied my posture, but I could feel her smaller body shaking next to me as she tried to contain her giggles.

“Don’t laugh,” I warned her out of the side of my mouth. “The Fun Police will get you. Don’t do it, Junie. Hold it in. You’d better behave.”

June snorted and covered her mouth with her hands.

I heard my sister’s loud sigh. “You’re like a human Pixy Stix, Alice.”

I grinned broadly. I felt lighter and less depressed about my situation with Anissa after only a few moments of being silly with my niece. “Regretting inviting me yet, sis?”

My family and I walked outside into the Saturday afternoon sunshine. I’d happened to park in the same area as Dawn, so we walked to our vehicles together. I gave June and Peter giant hugs and helped my sister buckle them into their respective booster seats.

“Where’s your friend today?” Dawn asked when the kids were both strapped into the backseat.

I frowned at her question for multiple reasons. First, because she hadn’t bothered to ask before. It also annoyed me that she hadn’t used Anissa’s name. Dawn hadn’t forgotten her name; it hadn’t even been two weeks. Instead, it was another of her passive aggressive moves like when people uncomfortable with your sexuality insist on calling your same-sex partner or spouse a ‘friend.’ But I was more upset because I was the reason Anissa wasn’t there.

“It’s a long story,” I said.

“It’s okay. It’s private,” Dawn said in a rush. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I want to tell you. It just really is a long story,” I said in earnest. “Besides,” I frowned, “I’m kind of the villain in this story.”

I could practically see the gears churning in my sister’s brain. I knew she wanted to say more or had questions to ask or at least had an opinion she wanted to share. But she surprised me with the words she finally settled on: “How about a hug?”

Tears immediately welled in