Page 46 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
“Um no. I was just wondering, could you repeat what you—”
“Fifteen percent. Plus whatever you deem a last-minute turkey worth.” The light turns green before she stops, and Rose revs the engine once more, passing a stopped minivan and an old pickup truck on the left.
“I’ll see you at the shop in five minutes, Ms. West.” He hangs up.
Rose coasts on a flashing yellow across westbound NASA Road 1 and onto Kirby Drive. A few seconds later the engine ticks as it cools in the parking lot of Bay Area Meat Market. I manage to pry my fingers off the panic bar.
She turns to me, all smiles, and pulls a wad of cash out of her bra. “And now we wait for the goods to be delivered.” She starts counting out her money in a calm, unaffected manner.
Meanwhile, my mind is reeling as fast as her car’s acceleration. “You don’t seem at all fazed by this turn of events.”
Rose shrugs. “Just another Thursday for me.” She pauses in counting her fifties. “Too crazy for you?”
Huffing out a breath, I laugh. “Not in the least.” Then I hide my shaking hands under my thighs.
Twenty minutesafter we sped off in her Aston Martin, we arrive back at Mom’s victorious, wheeling a fifteen-pound turkey, already brined, trussed, and ready to fry, in a fold-out wagon.
“Oh my God!” My sister runs over to Rose, throwing her arms around her. “How did you manage this?”
Rose shrugs. “Just knew a guy.”
I scoff. “Knew a guy, my ass.”
Rose glares at me, annoyed that I hadn’t agreed to keep quiet on how she essentially hijacked a turkey on Thanksgiving Day.
“It wasn’t a big deal.” Rose hardens her voice, evil eye still in effect.
“You call arranging a discount price on the next order of beef the butcher buys from your family’s ranch just so he’d be willing to open shop and get us a turkey no big deal?”
Rose takes a menacing step toward me, turkey in tow.
I raise my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay.”
She holds the glare a second longer before tugging the wagon toward Matt, who’s already pulling the lid off the pot.
“And they just had a turkey lying around?” Brit asks me out of the corner of her mouth. “On Thanksgiving?”
“Nope.” I shake my head in amusement, the scene replaying in my head. “They’d sold out. But seeing as the owner hadn’t cooked his own turkey yet, he handed over the bird his family was going to eat in exchange for a number Rose typed into her phone and flashed him.” I whistle, remembering the way the man had nearly thrown the turkey at Rose, even giving her the wagon in which to haul it. “That bird probably costs more than a car.”
In shocked silence, which is a rare occurrence for my sister, she watches Matt help Rose do the honors of lowering the bird into the oil.
“How am I supposed to pay her back?” Brit says, exhaling long and loud.
“If you even offer to, she’ll tit punch you.”
My sister chokes on air, turning to me wide-eyed. “What?”
“Her words, not mine.” I nod at Rose, who puts the lid on the pot, then takes a beer Matt is offering from a second cooler by the fire pit.
She smiles, eyes on Rose. “I like her for you.”
“It’s not really like that, Brit. It’s not serious.” I frown, wondering why when I say that in my head it sounds fine, but when I say it to my sister it doesn’t ring as true.
“I don’t care how serious itwas, I care about how serious you’re going to make it.”
I open my mouth, but Brit talks over me.
“She got my baby brother to finally show up to a family gathering for more than just a plate of food and a good-bye.” Brit throws me some serious side-eye. “I’m smart enough to know that if Rose wasn’t here, you wouldn’t be either.” She punches me in the bicep before I can object. “Don’t fuck this up.”
