Page 129 of Begin Again Again

It was a low voice, familiar but non-specific. Beth blinked. “Who is this?”

“Sal,” the voice said cheerfully.

Beth frowned, at a total loss as to why Byron’s sister would be calling. “Is everything good? Is Byron okay?”

“Yeah, I mean as okay as he ever is. So… I kinda need to ask you something?”

“Sure, fire away.”

“I… well… it’s kinda hard to talk about over the phone.”

Beth blinked. “Do you want to come around to my place?”

“The place you’re housesitting? Yeah, that would be excellent. Is that okay?”

Beth looked around the living room. She should be applying for the job, or at least repacking… but fuck it. It’d keep for a while. “Sure, come over. It’ll be nice to have some human company.”

“Human company?”

“There are a couple cats here. Do you need a lift or…?”

“Nah, I’ll take Klaus’ car. What’s your address?”

After Beth hung up, she wondered if she should tell Byron his sister was coming over. But things had been strained between the siblings since Sal started crashing at his house. According to Byron, Sal played art-pop at insane levels, pestered Derek, and ordered weird shit online—a selfie ring light, talcum powder, and unmarked and suspiciously heavy packages.

“Why don’t you ask what they’re up to?” Beth suggested after Byron bemoaned the Styrofoam packing peanuts scattered through his living room.

“I’m too scared,” he said. “They might be starting a vlog and ask me to be on it. Better to let them work it all out.”

Beth wondered if she was about to find out Sal’s talcum powder secret, or if Sal wanted to talk about Byron because they too were full of unaired housemate complaints. Twenty minutes later, Sal knocked at the door. They were wearing navy and bumblebee leggings over a pink midriff t-shirt that said ‘money makes me cum.’

Beth grinned. “Nice shirt.”

“Exotic Cancer,” Sal said, plucking the front of the tee. “How are you?”

“Good, come in.”

She ushered Sal into Mrs J’s house. Sal’s mouth dropped open as they took in the huge living room and beachside view. “You have this whole place to yourself?”

“For about another eighteen hours.”

Sal paused in mid-rotation. “What?”

“The lady who owns this place is coming back tomorrow, so I need to clear out.”

“Bummer.”

“Gig economy giveth. Gig economy taketh away.”

Muffin and Pizza darted into the room, rubbing against Sal’s legs. They bent to stroke their furry backs. “How did you end up here? Did you have to pay?”

“Nah, it’s through a housesitting website. Mrs J is paying me. Only fifty bucks a week though.”

Sal’s mouth dropped open again. “Seriously? How the fuck do you get into this? That’s what I came to ask, by the way.”

“Oh!” Beth didn’t know why she was so surprised. “I mean, it’s not too complicated. You have to have references and a police check and stuff though.”

Sal’s face fell. “Shit. You have all that?”

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