Had she been drinking, she would have fought back. But if being sober meant sitting there and having to take this kind of bitching out, she didn’t think it was worth it.
“With three DUIs, you are not under any circumstances to drive Mom’s car, understand?” Valerie added.
Brenda nodded. That pretty much went without saying. Besides, the cops had just confiscated her driver’s license.
“I won’t,” she said. “Just take me to Mom’s.”
“What about your apartment?”
Brenda didn’t want to admit to her sister that three weeks ago she’d been evicted from her apartment because she hadn’t paid the rent. For months. That was one of the reasons she’d hit the road. She’d been living out of her car, but she was still afraid that someone might see her and recognize her.
Was that what hitting bottom really meant—living out of your car or not caring if people knew you were living out of your car? Which was worse? And did it really matter? Whatever possessions she’d had left had been in the car with her. Now the car was gone and so was everything else.
She tried to lighten the somber mood. “It’s like they say in that old song: ‘I figure whenever you’re down and out, the only way is up.’”
“Don’t even start,” Valerie said. “Give me a break.”
After that they pretty much stopped talking. By the time Valerie stopped in front of their mother’s faux Victorian house on P Street in Sacramento, it was well after dark. A single lamp was lit in the living room, and Brenda caught sight of her mother sitting in the halo of light. She was just sitting there, waiting. There was no television set glowing in the background. There was no book on her lap. She was simply waiting.
Brenda looked at her sister. “Are you coming in?”
“I guess,” Valerie said. “But only for a minute. If I stay any longer than that, I might say something I’d regret.”
“Thank you for the ride.”
“You’re welcome,” Valerie replied. She didn’t say the rest of it, but she was sure Brenda got the message—just don’t let it happen again.
Palm Springs, California
One week later, again on a Friday afternoon, Mina made another trip to the casino, where she found Enrique Gallegos waiting for her in the bar. He sat in a corner booth with an athletic bag on the banquette between them. After a brief chat, Gallegos walked away, leaving the bag behind.
As Mina drove out of the parking lot, she called Mark. “Did they spring with the cash?” he asked.
“Some,” she said. “Not as much as I wanted but enough to bring Richard Lowensdale on board.” The truth was they had given her exactly what she’d asked for in terms of the cash advance, but she wasn’t going to tell Mark the whole truth about that. He’d find a way to fritter away the money on things he felt were essential—like bringing their mortgage payments up to date.
Mark sighed with relief. “So you’re off to see Richard?” It had taken some talking, but she had finally convinced Mark that Richard was their only hope of resolving their technical problems without bringing in a lot more people.
Mina glanced at her watch. “Yes,” she said. “I’m on my way to the airport. If I can get a flight to Sacramento tonight, I’ll go see Richard in the morning. The sooner we get him started working on this, the sooner we get the rest of our money.”
She couldn’t help feeling just a little sorry for Mark. The man was incredibly transparent. He was afraid of losing what they had, and by most standards, they had a lot. Generally speaking, having was better than not having, but Mina wasn’t nearly as hung up on that prospect as Mark was.
Losing possessions held no particular terror for Ermina Vlasic Blaylock. She’d already been through that once. She’d lost everything and everyone she’d held dear as a thirteen-year-old child during the Bosnian war. A Croat by birth, she had hidden in a barn while her entire family was
“With three DUIs, you are not under any circumstances to drive Mom’s car, understand?” Valerie added.
Brenda nodded. That pretty much went without saying. Besides, the cops had just confiscated her driver’s license.
“I won’t,” she said. “Just take me to Mom’s.”
“What about your apartment?”
Brenda didn’t want to admit to her sister that three weeks ago she’d been evicted from her apartment because she hadn’t paid the rent. For months. That was one of the reasons she’d hit the road. She’d been living out of her car, but she was still afraid that someone might see her and recognize her.
Was that what hitting bottom really meant—living out of your car or not caring if people knew you were living out of your car? Which was worse? And did it really matter? Whatever possessions she’d had left had been in the car with her. Now the car was gone and so was everything else.
She tried to lighten the somber mood. “It’s like they say in that old song: ‘I figure whenever you’re down and out, the only way is up.’”
“Don’t even start,” Valerie said. “Give me a break.”
After that they pretty much stopped talking. By the time Valerie stopped in front of their mother’s faux Victorian house on P Street in Sacramento, it was well after dark. A single lamp was lit in the living room, and Brenda caught sight of her mother sitting in the halo of light. She was just sitting there, waiting. There was no television set glowing in the background. There was no book on her lap. She was simply waiting.
Brenda looked at her sister. “Are you coming in?”
“I guess,” Valerie said. “But only for a minute. If I stay any longer than that, I might say something I’d regret.”
“Thank you for the ride.”
“You’re welcome,” Valerie replied. She didn’t say the rest of it, but she was sure Brenda got the message—just don’t let it happen again.
Palm Springs, California
One week later, again on a Friday afternoon, Mina made another trip to the casino, where she found Enrique Gallegos waiting for her in the bar. He sat in a corner booth with an athletic bag on the banquette between them. After a brief chat, Gallegos walked away, leaving the bag behind.
As Mina drove out of the parking lot, she called Mark. “Did they spring with the cash?” he asked.
“Some,” she said. “Not as much as I wanted but enough to bring Richard Lowensdale on board.” The truth was they had given her exactly what she’d asked for in terms of the cash advance, but she wasn’t going to tell Mark the whole truth about that. He’d find a way to fritter away the money on things he felt were essential—like bringing their mortgage payments up to date.
Mark sighed with relief. “So you’re off to see Richard?” It had taken some talking, but she had finally convinced Mark that Richard was their only hope of resolving their technical problems without bringing in a lot more people.
Mina glanced at her watch. “Yes,” she said. “I’m on my way to the airport. If I can get a flight to Sacramento tonight, I’ll go see Richard in the morning. The sooner we get him started working on this, the sooner we get the rest of our money.”
She couldn’t help feeling just a little sorry for Mark. The man was incredibly transparent. He was afraid of losing what they had, and by most standards, they had a lot. Generally speaking, having was better than not having, but Mina wasn’t nearly as hung up on that prospect as Mark was.
Losing possessions held no particular terror for Ermina Vlasic Blaylock. She’d already been through that once. She’d lost everything and everyone she’d held dear as a thirteen-year-old child during the Bosnian war. A Croat by birth, she had hidden in a barn while her entire family was
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