Other Broken Things by C. Desir Page A

everyone? Because maybe we could bring over some food and—”
    I wave my hand. “No. Mom. No. It’s only for the alkies.”
    This probably isn’t true. And I’m pretty sure no one would turn my mom away at the door if she were holding a roasted ham and a bunch of her cookies, but I don’t want her to be part of this. Part of me and Joe and our day.
    Her head drops for a second and she lets out a little sigh. I feel like a huge asshole, but I just can’t deal with them for another day.
    â€œIf that’s what you want, Natalie. I’ll drive you over.”
    â€œNonsense, Sarah,” Dad interjects. “That’s why I fixed up her car. She can drive herself, and you and I can join Steven and his wife for their Christmas cocktail party. I’m sure I can call tonight and let him know we’ve had a change of plans.”
    Dad’s so enthused about this I’m a little sick. I almost want to tell him to forget it just so he has to suffer with my company. But the carrot of Joe is too big to resist. “See, Mom? You and Dad have plans. It’s going to be fine. I’ll go to SFC, do a meeting, they’ll probably have a speaker or something, then I’ll come home. No big deal.”
    Mom’s shoulders slump. “Okay.”
    *  *  *
    Joe’s already at Popeyes when I slide into the seat across from him on Christmas. A box in red candy-cane wrapping paper and a green bow is sitting on the table.
    â€œShit. We’re exchanging gifts? I don’t have anything for you. You didn’t say.”
    He smiles. “It’s not necessary. And I don’t need anything. But this, you need. Well, you actually don’t need it. But . . . just open it.”
    I’m curious and I have no patience and I hate surprises, so I rip it open like a little kid and he laughs.
    â€œJoe,” I say with a big grin. “You bought me a carton of cigarettes. You are a Christmas miracle.”
    â€œThis is the part where I tell you that you probably shouldn’t smoke. You’re young and it’s a nasty habit.”
    â€œAnd yet here I sit with this spectacular gift and it’s perfect. And saves you from having to give up half your supply.”
    He gives me a partial grin and my stomach whoops, and yeah, that needs to stop happening. I look at the cigarettes and swallow down all the things I could say but definitely should not.
    â€œOh wait,” I say at last. “I do have a gift for you.”
    I dig through my bag and pull out a pen. “Close your eyes,” I tell Joe. He closes them and I dig out Elfie. I write the letters KILL on his little plastic fingers, holding in my laughter as I do it. “Okay, you can open them.”
    Joe looks at Elfie and blinks. I hold up the plastic hand with KILL on it and he laughs. “It’s perfect.”
    â€œYeah. Elfie’s just like you. Seemingly all chipper and put together, but he totally has a dark side.”
    â€œYou think I have a dark side?”
    I nod and take Joe’s hand. Which maybe I shouldn’t have done because I don’t really want to give it back now. And I’m pushing, but I can’t help myself. I trace the letters on his knuckles and he doesn’t pull away and I look at his face, and I know he’s right there with me.
    â€œSo. How’d you end up with this tattoo?”
    He shakes his head and pulls his hand back. “Funny story, actually. After I got out of prison and hooked up again with some of my old friends, we got wasted one night and they started talking trash about how I was the only ex-con they knew without ink. So I’m not totally clear on the details, but we found one of those all-night tattoo parlors and the next thing I knew, I woke up with this.”
    â€œCould’ve been worse,” I say.
    â€œYeah? How’s that?”
    I shrug. “You could’ve ended up with ‘Property of