Page 21 of Your Every Wish
Kennedy shuts the door and starts to laugh. “I can’t believe he heard us. Thin walls in these trailers.”
“That was horrible. The guy fixes our window and that’s how we reward him. Tomorrow, I’m going to bring him a cake or a pie, or something.”
“The guy obviously wants special treatment.”
“Special treatment? Like what?”
“How the hell should I know? But men don’t typically do nice things for women unless they want something in return.”
“That’s a bit cynical, don’t you think?”
“It’s just the truth.”
“What in the world happened to you to make you so . . . distrustful?”
“Life. Your water is boiling.”
I finish the pasta with a sprinkling of Parmesan, and we eat in the living room on little TV trays left behind by the previous tenants.
“You think he ever lived here?” I ask.
“Willy? Hell no. My guess is he won this dump in a poker game and forgot he even had it until it was time to make out a will. And this is what he gave us.” She takes a visual turn around the living room, landing her gaze on the cottage cheese ceilings. “Unless he left you more.”
“You were there in the lawyer’s office, Kennedy. We got exactly the same. Why do you keep acting like I have some inside track on Willy Keil?”
She takes a few moments to ponder the question, or perhaps her answer, then says, “Because you’re his legitimate daughter. I’m the one he had with the young showgirl, who he thought so little of he left her barefoot and pregnant to fend for herself.”
That’s not the way I heard it. According to my mother, Willy left Mom high and dry for the showgirl. “He didn’t think that much of us either because by the time I was three, he was gone.”
Kennedy takes her plate to the kitchen and returns a few seconds later. “Thanks for dinner. I think I’ll turn in for the night. ”
It’s not even nine but it’s been a long day.
“Good night,” I say and watch her disappear down the narrow hallway to her bedroom.
After cleaning the kitchen, I make my way to my own room, plop down on the lumpy bed, and call Dex.
“What’s up?”
“Just calling to see how your day went.” It’s nice hearing his voice even if he sounds surly.
“It’s late, Emma. You of all people know how early I have to get up.”
“Sorry. I miss you, is all.”
“Yeah? How’s it going in Bum Fuck?”
“All right. Kennedy’s still insisting we sell.”
“I can’t say I blame her. But don’t let her push you into anything you don’t want to do. What do you know about this woman, anyway?”
I roll over to my side, propping a pillow under my head. “Not a lot, other than she’s my half sister. I actually like her, though. A lot.”
“You like everyone, Emma. That’s your problem.”
“I like you,” I say playfully. “Are we still on for Saturday?”
“Yeah, about that . . . I have a work thing. The boss invited me for dinner at his club.”
