“Are you going to see him?”
“No. He lives in California.”
“I’ve always wanted to go visit television.”
I squinted. “What?”
“Everything on TV is located there. California is television to me.”
“Ah.” I smiled. “Well, maybe we can take a trip there someday when you’re old enough.”
“My parents won’t let me.”
“Well, when you’re older, you can make that decision for yourself.”
“We won’t know each other anymore then.”
That hurt me to hear her say that. She just assumed I would ditch her at some point?
“What makes you so sure of that?”
“You’ll get sick of this. And I’ll be too old for this Little Sister stuff.”
“Don’t be so sure. I kind of like bugging you every week. This would be a hard habit to break.”
Lilith abruptly changed the subject. “Does anyone ever call you Jasmine?”
“What do you mean?”
“You look like Princess Jasmine from Aladdin, except your skin is a little lighter, and your eyes are green. Your hair is exactly like hers, though. Do you pretend to be her when you’re dancing at that Gyro place?”
“Gyro place.” I chuckled. “You’re funny.”
Barely out of my belly dancer garb, I rushed to pick up the phone when it rang at eleven on the dot.
Out of breath, I answered, “Hello?”
Landon sounded full of energy. “Hey!”
“You seem…happy. Are you drunk?”
“Full disclosure. I am drinking, but I hold my liquor pretty well, so sadly, I’m not drunk like I’d hoped I would be.”
“You’re failing at this drunk dialing thing.”
“I know. I’m more like a buzzed dialer.” He laughed. “So, how was work?”
“It was okay. My feet are tired.”
“When did you learn to belly dance, anyway?”
“I taught myself. Video tutorials. I have the exotic look, so I figured I’d go with it. Took a while to learn and find a gig, but I put my mind to it, and it finally happened.”
“I still can’t picture you belly dancing.”
“That’s because you’re picturing roly-poly Rana Banana.”
“Maybe. So…you look different? What do you look like now?”
“You won’t get to find out.”
“I’m starting to think that. I’ve tried to look you up on social media, but I couldn’t remember how to spell your last name for the life of me. The best I could come up with was Salami.”
Laughing, I corrected him. “Saloomi with two ‘O’s. But I cancelled all of my social media accounts, and there are no pictures to be found of me.”
“I don’t have Facebook, either,” he said.
“I know.”
“Oh…so you looked me up before the drunk dial? Was that like the prelude to dialing me? I guess I should be grateful. If you could’ve just quietly stalked me, you might not have called.”
I promptly switched gears. “What did you feel we needed to talk about tonight?”
“You seem to have some misconceptions about me that need to be cleared up. When you first called me, you started spewing crap—assuming things. You said you believed I thought my shit didn’t stink. You also assumed I lived in a mansion. What kind of fuckery is that? You seem to have the impression that I think I’m high and mighty.”
“Now, I just think you’re mighty high.” I snorted. “Just kidding. Sorry, I wasn’t in my right mind when I said those things.”
“Okay, but alcohol is basically like truth serum. Those assumptions were there before that night. Let me clarify something, Rana. I never thought I was better than you growing up just because we had more money. I never thought about those things. Anyway, my parents aren’t supporting me financially anymore. I’ve fended for myself for a very long time.”
“Where are they now?”
“They’re still in Michigan.”
“How did you end up in California?”
“That’s a long story. I want you to tell me what happened to you first.”
“I’m gonna need alcohol, then.”
“Well, by all means, go get some. You’re late to the party.”
“Hang on.”
I ran to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of chardonnay from the bottle that had been chilling in the fridge.
Returning to my room, I lay down on the bed and kicked my feet up.
I took a long sip then started to open up. “You remember my mother.”
“Yeah. She was like a teenager compared to your dad.”
“Yes. You know, they had an arranged marriage. She was never in love with him and never ready to be a wife and mother. Well, she basically left us soon after we moved. She ran off with her boyfriend. The last I heard, she was living somewhere in Ohio. I haven’t seen her in over a decade.”
“I’m sorry.”
Taking a deep breath in to squelch the pain of thinking about her, I continued, “Anyway, my father took his anger over the whole situation out on me. He became super strict. He didn’t want me to turn out like Shayla…like a slut, in his mind. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere, to do anything. But I rebelled behind his back. There’s a lot of stuff that happened, but basically, I ran away for a while in my late teens after graduation. My grandparents had given me money that was supposed to be for college, and I took it and blew it on other things. I feel very guilty about that.”
“Well, you were young and stupid.”
“Very.”
“Are you still living near your grandparents?”
“No. I moved back to Dearborn ironically a few years ago. My father followed me.”
“How is your relationship with your dad now?”
“We’re working on it. The two of us are closer than we ever were.”
“Happy to hear that. How does he feel about the belly dancing?”
“He’s not thrilled about it. But he has to accept it. He knows I’m saving up to go back to school and to also pay my grandparents back.”
“What do you want to study?”
“I keep changing my mind, but as of late I think I’d like to run a daycare someday. So, maybe early childhood education or child psychology.”
“Very cool.”
I made myself more comfortable on the bed. “Okay, so tell me how you ended up in California.”
“It’s complicated, but the gist is that when I turned sixteen, my parents told me I was actually adopted.”
What?
I definitely wasn’t expecting that.
“Jim and Marjorie aren’t your birth parents?”
“No.” He let out a breath. “So, when they dropped that bomb, I went through a tough time after that, came out here when I was eighteen.”
“Did you go to college out there?”
“Nope. I never actually went to college.”
“Gosh, you were always so smart. I’d always pictured you going to an Ivy League school.”
“I’ve had lunch at The Ivy,” he joked. “Does that count?”
“I guess not.” I chuckled. “Why did you choose California?”
“It’s where I was born.”
“You went to find your birth mother?”
“That’s why I came here, but I didn’t pursue it right away. It took me a while to garner the guts.”
“Did you ever find her?”
“Yeah, but it’s too much to get into right now, and I’m not in the right frame of mind. I think that might be a story for another time, okay?
There was going to be another time?
“No problem.”
“Fuck. That was a total buzz kill. Quick, Rana. Tell me something funny.”
Wracking my brain, I said, “I caught my roommate sleeping with a pair of my leggings on his face today.”
“The same guy who wants to kill you?”
“Yes.”
“Apparently, he wants to inhale your pussy, too.”