Page 13 of Challenged By You
“Yeah? Like how?”
I think about it for a moment. “Determined. Focused. Intent on giving her kids a better life.”
Julian’s quiet. “That does sound a lot like Mom.”
“She’s scrappy,” I tack on, then, “A fighter,” remembering the scene between her and Chef Spencer.
“Is she attractive?”
“I’m sitting here telling you she reminds me of Mom and you’re asking me if I think she’s attractive?” Irritation laces my voice.
“I haven’t heard you talk about a woman like this since Mom, Jonas. It’s a natural question.”
Damn. I have to give him that. I tend to keep my romantic entanglements close to the chest. “She’s a tall blonde who thinks she’s a giant. She has blue eyes that would skewer you in a heartbeat,” I tell him honestly.
“Hmm” is all he says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that. Hmm. I suppose this will be an interesting month for you on several fronts. No pretentious restaurants to eat at, no swanky clubs to go to. Real food and real people, Jonas. Make the most of it.”
While I’m still trying to figure out the puzzle my twin just dropped in my lap, he says, “When does all of this start?”
“Tomorrow. Eight o’clock.”
“In the morning?” Now he’s flat out laughing at me. “I’d better let you get some beauty rest, then.”
“Love you too, brother,” I say, hanging up while he’s still laughing in my ear.
After putting my phone back in my pocket, I grab my bag and head back toward the street. Quickly pulling up my app, I’m told it will be ten minutes before a car can get me. I wince when I see the cost. “That’s highway robbery!” I yelp.
An elderly couple walks by hand in hand. “Problems, son?”
“No, nothing, sir. Just surprised by how much it costs to get back to Manhattan.”
The woman laughs. “You should see the cost of a cab. Before they had those car service things, it made traveling at night even more problematic. Trains don’t run that late out here.”
“I appreciate the problem,” A pair of headlights heads toward us. Quickly, I check the make and model against my app. “I think that’s my ride. I hope you both have a nice evening,” I tell them as I approach the car.
“You as well,” the gentleman calls back. Discreetly, I watch them make their way toward Trina’s building. Fleetingly, I wonder if I’ll run into them again.
Jumping into the car, I sit back and pull up Trina’s complex on my phone while I’m relaxing on the way back to the heart of New York. My eyes bug out when I check out the layout of her unit. “Jesus, I could pick up this whole place and plop it into my bedroom in Manhattan. And there’s three people living there?”
“Did you say something?” the bored driver asks.
“No.” At least not intended for anyone else to hear.
Unable to comprehend it, I mumble, “I’m beginning to understand,” thinking about the words Trina hurled at me with respect to her living situation. And when I add in the memories of my mother on top of it, my heart begins to ache. Fortunately, the car moves quickly through the streets to arrive at my building.
Soon, I’m getting ready for bed in a place that’s way too big for one person. While we didn’t have a lot growing up,City Lightsgave us a lot. As much as I’ve been frustrated with my uncle over the years for his lackadaisical management style, I can’t see myself anywhere else. Plugging in my phone to charge, I set the alarm for—I wince—way too early. Then I douse the lights, wondering what delights await me at Trina’s for breakfast.
As sleep begins to pull me under, I wonder what kind of routine Trina has to go through to get her kids settled after they’re excited to see Mom after work. I know exactly how wound up kids can be when their mother gets home from work.
With the image of me and Julian racing for the door when it opened at the forefront of my mind, I slip into sleep.
* * *
I’m cursingas I tug on jeans and a long-sleeve Henley at 7:00 the next morning. “I can’t believe the hot water didn’t work in the bathroom. I need to call and have that addressed with the maintenance team. The HOA in this place is ridiculous—” Shivering, I catch myself complaining about when the reality is it’s an inconvenience that will likely be repaired in a few hours. It’s not like I’m sleeping three in a one-bedroom.
