“Is that the plan?” I questioned, returning her frown.
Izzy sighed, a look of shame and disappointment marring her face. But then she smiled. “I doubt it. I don’t know. It takes a lot of money. I’m working as a waitress on the side. Weekend tips pay pretty good.” Izzy’s grin wasn’t convincing. It seemed fake. Something weighed heavy on her mind. I could tell Izzy had trying events in her life, too. I wanted to hear all about it, every last detail of the past thirteen years. Everything.
“Oh, yeah? Where?” I tried not to sound depressed. I wanted her to have the fairytale, the one where she was happy, in love, and successful. I suddenly thought of Paxton and his fury. The digital clock screamed for me to turn around and go home where I belonged.
Izzy laughed and jiggled her boobs. “Hooters.”
I giggled and glanced away from the clock. I need this time with her.
“You’re doing all right for yourself. I love your house, the neighborhood, the beach. You live by a beach! Oh, my God, Gabby,” she said with happy excitement.
“I know. Who would have thought, right? Do you have someone, Izzy? Are you married, kids?”
Izzy playfully drummed a rimshot off the dashboard with two fingers, the kind a drummer plays after a joke. “No kids, and I just got out of an eight-month relationship. Before that, I was just a slut, trying to drink you away.”
She meant it to be cute and happy. I didn’t feel that way. “That makes me sad, Izz. You drink?”
“Nah, not much. I’m fine. I had a decent upbringing. I’ve made mistakes, but hey, who hasn’t, right?”
I stared up the street and agreed. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Let’s go somewhere and talk. I want to hear all about these little girls.”
The market loomed ahead on the right. I knew with everything in me that I should turn in, go to the store, drop Izzy back off at her car, and go home. That’s what I should have done.
The pit of my stomach balled and tightened. A gut feeling. That dreaded instinct when you know you’re doing something wrong, or you can sense something bad about to happen. I passed the parking lot with a deep sigh.
It was worth it. I would deal with Paxton later. For an afternoon with my sister, I would face Paxton’s wrath. With no direction in mind, I drove through town and took the next right. My nerves jerked a little when I realized I’d driven way past my boundaries. Paxton would be furious when he checked my mileage. I had gone past my seven-mile allowance within minutes. Three point two miles each way. That gave me a little bit in case I needed to detour around a block or something. I was at nine. That was two miles over.
“Remember when mama would pull us out of bed in the middle of the night, needing to run. The stupid games we played on our way to our next destination?”
My lips turned upward while thinking about it, allowing the memory to creep back in. “Do you think she really ever knew where we were going?”
“Hell no. Why do you think we slept in the car half our life?”
“True, but think about it, Izz. We didn’t care where we slept, how long we stayed, or where we went next. Remember how we would park underneath bridges and climb up the concrete walls every time it rained? We didn’t even care that we were eating peanut butter sandwiches again.”
“Yeah, we would sit up there and listen to the rain while mom told us stories of how our lives were about to change. Remember how she always promised we were going to have our own house with matching twin beds?”
“Or the dirt roads we would take for the hell of it? Like taking all rights. There is no way in hell she knew where we would end up. Not like that.”
“Jonnie and her Clydes,” I concluded, lifting the corners of my mouth in wistful memory. That’s what she used to call us. She did have a boy name. Unfortunate for her, she’d been born without a penis. Her parents still named her Jonnie. After a dead uncle or something.
“I’m Jonnie, and these are my Clydes. Get it, Jonnie and Clyde?” Izabella said, voice mimicking our mother’s. She always said that. Every time we met someone new, she’d stick out her hand and introduce us as Jonnie and Clyde. The name was perfect. It suited us just fine. Most little girls got cute nicknames, like Princess and Half Pint. Izzy and I got the same one. Clyde. If my mom yelled for Clyde she meant both of us. I was Clyde and Izzy was Clyde, and we were Jonnie and Clyde.
“Want to go right?” I asked, eyes twinkling to match the smile on my face. Izzy was here. Izzy sat beside me. My Clyde. I told myself that I wouldn’t go far, maybe turn around at the next stop sign. That was my plan. An uneasy feeling bubbled in the bottom of my stomach. The darker the clouds became, the more the strong breeze picked up. The treetops swayed back and forth, whipping wildly across the ominous sky as sporadic gusts of wind shook the car.
Izzy’s eyes grew larger and she nodded. “Uh, yeah!” Thirteen years had been such a long time to be away from her. How surreal. I always knew we would find each other again. I just didn’t know in what way or when.
For the first time since I had met Paxton, I defied him. Not with little things that irked him, like being a few minutes late. I mean something big. Something like this. I would be punished for a month, but I would face it. It was worth it to spend an hour with my sister.
Happy memories were spoken in words between us as miles flew by. One hour was quickly over and I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the time, Paxton’s anger, or the storm. I didn’t even feel anxious when I glanced at the clock, knowing he was angry with me. The damage was done. His feet were pacing back and forth, dialing my number, and watching out the window. I could see it in my mind as plain as day.
I listened to Izabella tell a story about our mother’s song while I tried to keep my mind there. With her and nowhere else.
“Free Bird. Lynyrd Skynyrd,” Izzy recalled through a yell when it suddenly came to her.
I remembered the story well. We’d slept outside on a beach in California that entire summer. Tent City. My mother had crazy danced to that song. I mean straight-up crazy. Arms flowing in the air while her body rose and fell with the tune, her eyes were closed and she had an expression of appreciation on her face. It had been as if she’d talked to God, praising the universe through twinkling stars. Izzy and I sat huddled up in front of a fire, waiting for her to come down. We couldn’t have been more than four or five years old, but we knew. We didn’t know that she acted like that because of the shrooms they talked about. We just thought she was sick.
I silenced my phone with the controls on the steering wheel, seeing Paxton’s name take over the screen on my dash. I’d already immersed myself knee deep, but that was no different than chin deep. The consequences were the same. “You do know she was higher than a kite that entire summer, right?” I questioned.
“It didn’t matter. Those were the best days of my life. Think about what a boring life we would have had if we would have been born to a sane mom. Turn right,” Izzy said while directing me with a straight finger. I turned right again and silenced my phone for the fourth time. An hour and fifteen minutes of nothing but right turns can have you out of the city and in the middle of nowhere pretty damn quick. I had no idea where we were headed, and I didn’t care. I would figure it out later with the GPS. For now, I was enjoying my time with Izzy, reminiscing about the good old days.
“He’s just going to keep calling, you know?” Izabella assured me.
I shot her what I hoped to be an evil smirk and held the button in on my phone, shutting it down.
Izzy got all serious on me, her face matching the gloomy tone. “Is he good to you, Gabby? Are you happy?”
I didn’t respond to Izzy’s question right away. I stared straight ahead, contemplating my answer.
“For the most part, yes.”
“What does that mean? For the most part?”