Page 8 of Whiskey and Regret

“Are you at work?” I ran a hand along my harp and started lighting candles. It didn’t matter that it was still daylight. Feeling their heat comforted me no matter what time of day it was.

Even though I wasn’t playing Sunshine right then, the balls of my bare feet automatically pressed against the cherry wood floor, flexing my calf muscles. I was in playing position.

“Yes, like normal people,” she quipped.

“I get it. I’m trash. I’m trying to work through that though.”

“Are you? Doesn’t seem like it. You’re about to get evicted and you have no idea how you’re going to pay me back or come up with the money for your next car payment.”

“I also have nowhere to live so can I please crash on your couch at least for a few weeks, Navy?”

“Nope. Not happening.” There was a pause on the other end before she continued. That pause seemed to have promise, so I listened closely. “I might be able to get you an interview for a job that also offers free housing.”

“Free housing? I’m cautiously curious,” I told her, positioning my fingers against the middle register of strings.

“My boss needs a nanny for his…”

“Nope. Next.”

“Xari, you can’t be picky right now. His daughter is twelve so it’s not like you have to watch a baby or a toddler. She’s super independent and you’d get your own guest quarters, a car, and a paycheck weekly. You can’t beat that in your situation.”

I shut my eyes and mimicked the movements of Donizetti. I was born to play the harp. Why couldn’t a seat on the New York City Philharmonic open up for me? I’d take the Maryland Philharmonic or the National Philharmonic too. That was the only thing I wasn’t picky about.

“Hello?” Navy’s voice cut through the melodies dancing through my brain.

“I’m here. I’m sure your boss is nice but do you think I’m the right person to watch a twelve-year-old all day? I just fucked one of the movers taking my boxes to storage and I don’t even know his name.”

“She’s in school most of the day…wait. You did what?” Her voice exploded over the phone and I held it away from my ear.

“I needed to let off some steam. He was fine. He was here.”

“You don’t care about STI’s or kids or marriage or anything huh?”

“I didn’t see a ring.”

“He’s a mover, maybe he doesn’t wear it.”

“Let’s be clear, whatever his name is had a mouth. He could have spoken up. Anyway, like I said, you really think I’m the right person?”

“Not really but I know you’re good with kids. Especially teenagers and preteens since you’re basically one yourself.”

“Ouch. Fuck you.”

“It can’t hurt to come down here and interview. He hasn’t found anyone yet and he’s getting frustrated.”

“Wait, your boss is the senator guy, right? The fine one with a stick up his ass?”

“He doesn’t have a stick up his ass. He’s nice.”

“You like him because he’s boring like you.”

“Why the hell do I try to help you? Why? You don’t do anything but stress me out. I’m so tired of this shit.” Her voice was steeped in exasperation. “Everything in life isn’t going to always come easy to you. Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to just to survive.

I know everything was always handed to you because you’re a prodigy but this is the real world. Nobody cares that you can play six instruments and speak three languages. Nobody cares about Julliard or the fact that you graduated at twenty. None of that is going to pay your bills if you don’t go out there and work your ass off for it.”

Her frustration bled through the phone and slicked my ear with heat. I hated when Navy got frustrated with me that she was ready to throw up her hands and be done.

I dropped my fingers and let my arms hang at my side while I pinned the phone to my ear with my shoulder.