Page 56 of Fast and Dirty

“Sorry, I have company in the garage,” I explain. “But don’t mind her.”

“Ha!” Agnes huffs as I turn my attention back to my sister.

“I’m just trapped in this draining cycle with the job and taking care of ,” she confides on a long gust of breath. “I can’t work unless I have someone to watch him, and I can’t pay to have someone watch him if I don’t work. My boss is being a total dipshit tightwad. I haven’t gotten a raise in over a year, and he still won’t put me on any of the worthwhile projects. I can’t build my portfolio for shit.”

“Did the money I sent you in March help any?” I inquire as I slowly walk back over to the Rolls and wake up my computer on its mobile cart.

“Yes,” she sighs. “It did for a bit, thank you. I just got behind when the Toyota needed a new radiator.”

I grunt in sympathy. “If you lived here, I could regularly maintenance that thing for you.”

“I know.” She sounds like an annoyed teenager.

“And it sounds like your boss is keeping you off the high-end projects so that he has an excuse to not pay you more. And if he can keep you from building your portfolio he doesn’t have to worry about you leaving for greener pastures.”

“Oh my god, do you really think that’s what’s happening?” Her voice goes up as if in revelation.

“I don’t know, but it adds up. Do you think he’s the type to want to get away with keeping a talented and dependable employee on a meager payroll?”

“Son of a bitch,” she huffs out. I think I hit the nail on the head. “And on top of everything else, some bigwig is buying my condo complex and raising the rent. With what my bosshole pays me, I’m not going to be able to afford it.”

“Alright, slow down Mack,” I tell her, when I start to hear tears in her voice. “You’re right, this is def con two and something’s got to give. First of all, did you hit up the asshole?”

“Of course I did,” she clears the emotion out of her throat. “I called dad, and I even tried dickface,” - that’s the father of her kid - “and there’s no getting ahold of him either. He hasn’t paid any child support in four months and yes, I’ve had him served, but it hasn’t done shit. He’s just holing up somewhere pretending we don’t exist until some cop or lawyer catches up with him, but for right now I’m fucked. Asshole and Dickface, that’s the men in my life.”

“Hey,” I lower my voice in warning.

“Except you.”

“Thank you. You know…” the cogs in my head are starting to turn, since she just pointed out that I’m the one person who hasn’t let her down, not even when I went to jail. “What would you think about moving here?”

“Eh?”

“Eh?” Agnes echoes from herchair.

“Shit’s falling apart, right?”

“Well… yeah but… isn’t that like out in the middle of nowhere?” She questions, not trying to be condescending. “It would probably be hard to find a place to live, and what kind of interior design opportunities are there?” She’s trying to point out her misgivings on how this could help her.

“But there’s community,” I counter. “And while I don’t know of a place to live, you could at least have a place to stay while you figure that out. And plenty of people to watch Aria while you catch your breath and figure out your next move.”

“What?” She sounds incredulous. “Don’t you live in a tiny studio apartment?”

“Yeah,” I answer, still trying to think. I forgot for a second how cramped that would be. “But…what I could do is stay with my girlfriend, and you could have my place for a bit.”

“BULL. HONKEY!” Agnes shouts. How the fuck is she hearing all this? I turn towards her, trying to not look terrified at the prospect of her being a witch.

“It’s the hearing aids, honey,” she explains without me asking. “They pick up everything,” she shrugs, as if to saywhat are you gonna do?“Anyway, tell her she can stay with me. She’ll have a built-in babysitter.”

“Who is that?” Mack presses from her end of the line. “What is she talking about?”

“Well it’s my friend Agnes,” I explain, turning away from the lady in question and bringing up what I need on my computer. “She was offering for you to stay in her place. She does have a lot of rooms, but?—”

“But nothing,” Agnes states from right behind me this time and I scream.

“Jesus!” I exclaim, nearly dropping my phone. How the fuck did she get there so fast? And where’s the memo that it’s my day to watch her?

As I grapple for my phone, Agnes effortlessly puts it to her ear.

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