fucking job. Perry Mason never would have allowed this."
Spring groaned. "I’m not about to have the Perry Mason argument with you. Again."
"You could turn him in for selling dope," Lanie suggested, hoping to draw the conversation to the close. She looked fleetingly down the hall in the direction of the toilet.
"He doesn’t sell. I don’t even know if he uses anymore." Spring searched the entryway closet, and Lanie watched as she moved her collection of boas from side to side. "Do we own a vacuum?"
Lanie leaned back and laughed. "Where do you think I buy mine from? You think I put a rolling paper under my pillow and the reefer fairy pays me a visit each month?"
Spring gritted her teeth and stormed towards Lanie. "If you ever, ever say those things in front of Sam, the boys, or the social workers who pay me those lovely visits, I will boot you out so fast you won’t have time to wipe the scuff marks from your butt."
"It’s for medical use anyway. It’s not like I’m doing it cuz I like it."
Spring looked at her sideways. "Insomnia hardly qualifies as a medical emergency. If you wouldn’t play video games all night you might sleep."
Lanie crossed her arms and stared at Spring. "What crawled up your butt this morning? Sam still not giving you any?"
"No, but that’s not my problem." Spring looked at the wastebasket with the shredded letters. "Things are difficult right now, Mom. My life isn’t turning out anything like I planned."
Lanie looked from Spring to the No Smoking sign Sam had scotch taped up on the kitchen wall. "Whose is?" she asked and trotted to the bathroom.
Ten
It didn’t take John more than one full week to realize that coming to Phoenix had been a mistake. The employment application ad had been misleading.
"Artist, my ass," he said when he discovered his job would be airbrushing off the wrinkles and veins of women who modeled in the penny saver ads. His artistic talents were being wasted. To compensate, he tried his hand at painting in his apartment at night. But everything he created was flat and uninspired. Not much better than his pictures of corn. What he needed, he decided, was a muse. But muses were few and far between in this oven city and he considered, not for the first time in the last seven days, going back to Samson.
"You could always look up Amy," Pete suggested helpfully on the phone. "I hear she’s single again. At least get laid while you are choking on the heat. Kind of like a souvenir."
"You do realize that’s your cousin?" John asked, too tired to even be disgusted.
Pete chuckled on the other end.
"Give it a few more weeks and see what happens. You were so sure about going. I’m sure whatever you are looking for is bound to pop up sooner or later."
John heaved an agreement into the receiver and went back to watching the cartoon network.
He had been certain at the time but maybe he had just been crazy.
Spring was summoned to Kimberly’s office the moment she arrived into work.
"Don’t hate me," Debbie said, handing her the neon pink post-it note. "...I’m just the messenger."
Spring entered the room and was relieved to see that Sarah was also there. Kimberly stood akimbo before her, like the warden of a POW camp.
"First things first," Kimberly said, never taking her eyes from Sarah. "Jane wants you to come up with an act to perform at the city centennial. Something lively and relevant. Maybe a dance."
"A dance?" Sarah’s thin knees clattered together. She looked at Spring for support.
"Kimberly," Spring said. "Sarah can hardly walk in that thing, let alone dance."
Kimberly gave Spring a wan smile and tapped her chin. "I’m thinking..." She paused. "...Fred and Ginger."
"Fine. We’ll figure it out. Can we go now?"
Sarah looked paler than usual. Spring touched her arm and noted that it was warm.
"Not yet. These promotional videos need to be delivered to all the VIPs in Phoenix. Today." Kimberly
Spring groaned. "I’m not about to have the Perry Mason argument with you. Again."
"You could turn him in for selling dope," Lanie suggested, hoping to draw the conversation to the close. She looked fleetingly down the hall in the direction of the toilet.
"He doesn’t sell. I don’t even know if he uses anymore." Spring searched the entryway closet, and Lanie watched as she moved her collection of boas from side to side. "Do we own a vacuum?"
Lanie leaned back and laughed. "Where do you think I buy mine from? You think I put a rolling paper under my pillow and the reefer fairy pays me a visit each month?"
Spring gritted her teeth and stormed towards Lanie. "If you ever, ever say those things in front of Sam, the boys, or the social workers who pay me those lovely visits, I will boot you out so fast you won’t have time to wipe the scuff marks from your butt."
"It’s for medical use anyway. It’s not like I’m doing it cuz I like it."
Spring looked at her sideways. "Insomnia hardly qualifies as a medical emergency. If you wouldn’t play video games all night you might sleep."
Lanie crossed her arms and stared at Spring. "What crawled up your butt this morning? Sam still not giving you any?"
"No, but that’s not my problem." Spring looked at the wastebasket with the shredded letters. "Things are difficult right now, Mom. My life isn’t turning out anything like I planned."
Lanie looked from Spring to the No Smoking sign Sam had scotch taped up on the kitchen wall. "Whose is?" she asked and trotted to the bathroom.
Ten
It didn’t take John more than one full week to realize that coming to Phoenix had been a mistake. The employment application ad had been misleading.
"Artist, my ass," he said when he discovered his job would be airbrushing off the wrinkles and veins of women who modeled in the penny saver ads. His artistic talents were being wasted. To compensate, he tried his hand at painting in his apartment at night. But everything he created was flat and uninspired. Not much better than his pictures of corn. What he needed, he decided, was a muse. But muses were few and far between in this oven city and he considered, not for the first time in the last seven days, going back to Samson.
"You could always look up Amy," Pete suggested helpfully on the phone. "I hear she’s single again. At least get laid while you are choking on the heat. Kind of like a souvenir."
"You do realize that’s your cousin?" John asked, too tired to even be disgusted.
Pete chuckled on the other end.
"Give it a few more weeks and see what happens. You were so sure about going. I’m sure whatever you are looking for is bound to pop up sooner or later."
John heaved an agreement into the receiver and went back to watching the cartoon network.
He had been certain at the time but maybe he had just been crazy.
Spring was summoned to Kimberly’s office the moment she arrived into work.
"Don’t hate me," Debbie said, handing her the neon pink post-it note. "...I’m just the messenger."
Spring entered the room and was relieved to see that Sarah was also there. Kimberly stood akimbo before her, like the warden of a POW camp.
"First things first," Kimberly said, never taking her eyes from Sarah. "Jane wants you to come up with an act to perform at the city centennial. Something lively and relevant. Maybe a dance."
"A dance?" Sarah’s thin knees clattered together. She looked at Spring for support.
"Kimberly," Spring said. "Sarah can hardly walk in that thing, let alone dance."
Kimberly gave Spring a wan smile and tapped her chin. "I’m thinking..." She paused. "...Fred and Ginger."
"Fine. We’ll figure it out. Can we go now?"
Sarah looked paler than usual. Spring touched her arm and noted that it was warm.
"Not yet. These promotional videos need to be delivered to all the VIPs in Phoenix. Today." Kimberly
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