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Authors: Annalisa Nicole
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coming to the bar tonight?” she asks.
“Total surprise to me,” I tell her truthfully. I also don’t tell her that Willow scares me, too. They all do, and when they all get together, which is on a weekly basis, the men are always on their best behavior.
Savvy pulls up to the curb on the street in front of my house and I give her a strange look. She reaches into her front pocket and pulls out a small wad of cash.
“If that’s what I think it is, you put that back into your pocket right now. You work hard for your tips and fixing this car for you is something I wanted to do. There’s still quite a bit of work that needs to be done to make this car safe. I know you’d say no if I offered to buy you a new car . . .”
“I’m never getting rid of this car!” she says, raising her voice. It surprises me that she’d yell and I look at her face. Her eyes fill with tears and I can read the apology all over her face.
“What’s so special about this car?” I ask gently.
She holds onto this car like it’s a living piece of her. She looks down at her fingernails and starts picking under her nails. I noticed her do that before, she does it when she has something that’s hard to say.
“It belonged to my mother. It’s the only thing I have that’s hers. I don’t know what my Aunt Molly did with everything else. This car sat in her garage for eight years after my mother died, covered with a tarp, collecting dust. I’d had enough of my aunt’s craziness and I moved out when I was eighteen. On my eighteenth birthday, we got in a huge fight and she said that if I leave, I leave only with the clothes on my back. And I did, in a heartbeat, without ever looking back. It broke my heart to leave Ruby. I met a guy shortly after that, and I think I falsely fell in love with him when I told him my life story and about my aunt. He broke into my aunt’s garage and stole Ruby. That was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. That relationship ended and I lived in fear of being pulled over and arrested for grand theft auto. About six months later, I found an envelope on my doorstep at the apartment building I was living in. In it was the title to Ruby, signed over to me free and clear from my aunt. I didn’t understand it, I still don’t. She had never given me anything but orders to clean this or iron that. Why did she give me something of my mother’s? Besides, how did she even know where I lived? There were too many unanswered questions and if I dwelled on it, I would have exploded. So I stopped asking questions and just accepted it. I finally had something that belonged to my mother. I’ve dumped more paychecks into this car to keep it running than a human being in their right mind should. I just can’t help it. If I could be buried in this car, I would be,” she says, wiping tears off her cheeks.
That did it. No matter how much it costs, Ruby will be restored. I was right this woman has been given shit her entire life. She’s had to fight for everything in her life. Not anymore. Not ever again.
“Do you have a picture of your mother?” I ask. After I ask it, I wish I could take it back. She said she doesn’t have anything of her mother’s. What if she doesn’t even have a picture?
“I do,” she says, reaching into her purse. She opens her wallet and pulls out a newspaper clipping and hands it to me. It’s creased from being folded and very worn out; it’s her mother’s obituary clipped from the local paper. My heart sinks and my anger soars toward her aunt. What would possess her aunt to be so cruel to her sister’s only daughter, the only living extension of her sister? I dig my cell phone out of my pocket, swipe my finger across the screen and turn it upside down to shine some light on the article. It’s a small color photo and it takes my breath away.
I turn to Savvy and say, “You lied when you said that Ruby was the only thing you have of your mothers. You have her eyes.”
Her eyebrows
“Total surprise to me,” I tell her truthfully. I also don’t tell her that Willow scares me, too. They all do, and when they all get together, which is on a weekly basis, the men are always on their best behavior.
Savvy pulls up to the curb on the street in front of my house and I give her a strange look. She reaches into her front pocket and pulls out a small wad of cash.
“If that’s what I think it is, you put that back into your pocket right now. You work hard for your tips and fixing this car for you is something I wanted to do. There’s still quite a bit of work that needs to be done to make this car safe. I know you’d say no if I offered to buy you a new car . . .”
“I’m never getting rid of this car!” she says, raising her voice. It surprises me that she’d yell and I look at her face. Her eyes fill with tears and I can read the apology all over her face.
“What’s so special about this car?” I ask gently.
She holds onto this car like it’s a living piece of her. She looks down at her fingernails and starts picking under her nails. I noticed her do that before, she does it when she has something that’s hard to say.
“It belonged to my mother. It’s the only thing I have that’s hers. I don’t know what my Aunt Molly did with everything else. This car sat in her garage for eight years after my mother died, covered with a tarp, collecting dust. I’d had enough of my aunt’s craziness and I moved out when I was eighteen. On my eighteenth birthday, we got in a huge fight and she said that if I leave, I leave only with the clothes on my back. And I did, in a heartbeat, without ever looking back. It broke my heart to leave Ruby. I met a guy shortly after that, and I think I falsely fell in love with him when I told him my life story and about my aunt. He broke into my aunt’s garage and stole Ruby. That was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. That relationship ended and I lived in fear of being pulled over and arrested for grand theft auto. About six months later, I found an envelope on my doorstep at the apartment building I was living in. In it was the title to Ruby, signed over to me free and clear from my aunt. I didn’t understand it, I still don’t. She had never given me anything but orders to clean this or iron that. Why did she give me something of my mother’s? Besides, how did she even know where I lived? There were too many unanswered questions and if I dwelled on it, I would have exploded. So I stopped asking questions and just accepted it. I finally had something that belonged to my mother. I’ve dumped more paychecks into this car to keep it running than a human being in their right mind should. I just can’t help it. If I could be buried in this car, I would be,” she says, wiping tears off her cheeks.
That did it. No matter how much it costs, Ruby will be restored. I was right this woman has been given shit her entire life. She’s had to fight for everything in her life. Not anymore. Not ever again.
“Do you have a picture of your mother?” I ask. After I ask it, I wish I could take it back. She said she doesn’t have anything of her mother’s. What if she doesn’t even have a picture?
“I do,” she says, reaching into her purse. She opens her wallet and pulls out a newspaper clipping and hands it to me. It’s creased from being folded and very worn out; it’s her mother’s obituary clipped from the local paper. My heart sinks and my anger soars toward her aunt. What would possess her aunt to be so cruel to her sister’s only daughter, the only living extension of her sister? I dig my cell phone out of my pocket, swipe my finger across the screen and turn it upside down to shine some light on the article. It’s a small color photo and it takes my breath away.
I turn to Savvy and say, “You lied when you said that Ruby was the only thing you have of your mothers. You have her eyes.”
Her eyebrows
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