“You pay for that?” She said it like she was joking, but I could tell by the look on her face she was pissed. Crystal was always helping herself to stuff.
“I need to talk to you about something,” Crystal said, tossing her hair back. Now I could see the scar on her jaw where Mom burned her as a kid. When I asked Mom about it years ago she said it had been an accident with a pan, but I always figured they must’ve been fighting or something because she’d looked really guilty, her face flushing, and she asked me not to mention it to Crystal.
Dallas handed me the box of sweatshirts. “Can you put these up, please? The large ones go in the back, the small ones—”
“In the front, I know.”
Dallas gave me a look.
“Sorry,” I said, hating that my aunt could make me feel like I was five years old in two seconds. She didn’t smile often and she was one of the toughest woman boxers at the gym, but she was always there for me. If Mom was working late, it was Dallas who picked me up from school. When I was younger she’d looked after me a lot. I never messed around or tested her like I did with my mom—if she said it was bedtime, I hauled ass and got into bed.
“I have a class starting in a few minutes,” she told Crystal.
“It’s important,” Crystal said. “Please, Dallas.”
Dallas still looked annoyed but said, “Let’s go to my office.” So Crystal was in trouble again. I wondered what it was this time—she got fired from jobs, broke up with her boyfriends, got evicted, and took off for days. Although I liked hanging out with Crystal, it was still pretty new, ever since I got into DJing. We started talking about different bands, and I’d drop by her place after school just to hang out and listen to music. But she didn’t really talk to me about her problems.
Dallas turned to me. “When you’re done with the shirts, can you clean the mirrors?”
“Sure, Dallas.”
Dallas and Crystal went into Dallas’s office, which had a window that looked out onto the main floor. I tried to see what was going on while I hung the shirts. Crystal was talking, then she leaned her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands like she was really upset. Dallas was shaking her head and talking. I figured she was lecturing Crystal.
Dallas disappeared for a minute, then came back and handed Crystal an envelope. Crystal stood up and gave her a hug. Dallas looked like she was still lecturing, and Crystal was nodding. She must’ve been borrowing money for rent again. When I was little we lived above the gym with Dallas and Crystal. Then Crystal moved in with her boyfriend at the time, and Mom and I found an apartment a couple of blocks away. Dallas still lived above the gym.
I wondered how much money was in the envelope, daydreamed about what I’d do with an envelope full of cash. I had a digital mixer and some Rokit speakers on hold at the pawnshop, had to beg the owner a million times to let me put them on layaway. I went by after work sometimes just to look at them.
I’d wanted to pick up some extra shifts waitressing and asked Mom if she could get me a job. She worked at an expensive hotel downtown and had to take two buses to get there but she made great tips, especially in the summer. She’d said it was too far for me to go at night, though. I think she just wanted to keep an eye on me. At least when I was at the gym she didn’t send me as many of her just-saying-hi-and-making-sure-you’re-okay-and-don’t-forget-to-lock-the-door texts.
Dallas came out of the office, and I focused back on the shirts, watching from the corner of my eye as she walked deeper into the gym.
Crystal came to the front counter.
“I’ve gotta run,” she said, grabbing a Gatorade out of the fridge.
“Everything okay?” I said.
“Sure.” She gave me a smile but she still looked kind of stressed. “See you Sunday.” She was already pushing out the front door. She climbed into the passenger side of a blue car that had been waiting in the parking lot and took off. I got a brief glimpse of the man behind the wheel, sunglasses and a shaved head.
I glanced back into the gym. Dallas had turned around and was watching the car drive off with a worried expression.
*
For as long as I could remember, we had dinner over at Patrick and Karen’s on the first Sunday of every month. Mom was late getting off work and when we finally got to their house that night, Dallas was already in the kitchen helping Karen, who was stirring something at the stove. I picked up a cat winding its way around my feet, and gave Karen a kiss on the cheek.
“How are you, sweetie?” she said.
“Good.” Karen didn’t spend as much time in the gym anymore, preferring to do her crafts at home, but she still worked out a few times a week with Patrick.
Now Mom came over and gave Karen a kiss.