Every Other Weekend(2)
“Whoops. Probably should introduce myself. I’m Shelly, I live here with my boyfriend, Robert. It’ll be so nice to have some new faces on the floor.” She laughed and popped her hip against the doorframe in a way that drew my eye despite my mood. “Those are vacant.” She pointed at the two apartments directly across from ours. “And then the Spiegels and their new baby live on the other side of you in 6-1, but don’t worry, the baby doesn’t cry a lot. There’s a guy who lives in 6-2, but he’s not around much, and honestly, he gives me a creepy vibe. That’s mean, isn’t it? It’s just that this generally isn’t the kind of place that attracts non-creepy people.” She made a face. “I know your dad is going to fix it up, but it’s kind of a dump right now.”
She lifted a hand as if to shield her eyes from the flickering bulb. “We wouldn’t be here if Robert’s queen bitch of an ex hadn’t taken everything in the divorce, and I mean everything. The house, the cars, his sports memorabilia.” She started ticking things off on her fingers. “You wouldn’t believe what he went through just to get Jo every other weekend.” Shelly shook her head. “So this is it for now. It’s better inside though. We might still have some pizza left over, I think.”
She leaned back into her apartment, and I thought Jeremy was going to pass out at the rear view she presented. “Jo, did you eat all the pizza? Jolene?” Back in the hallway, she half rolled her eyes, then smiled. “She’s kind of a nightmare, and I’m not exactly her favorite person.”
I blinked at the sheer amount of information this complete stranger had just vomited at us. “Maybe you shouldn’t call her mother ‘queen bitch.’”
“I know, but...” Shelly shrugged. “It really suits her.” She stressed the word and laughed again. “Do you know she had their dog put down while Robert was out of town? I mean, who does that?” She leaned forward. “Just between us, she’s a drunk, too.”
I wasn’t sure that Jeremy was listening as much as he was watching the way Shelly’s chest rose and fell when she took a deep breath—which she did constantly.
I leaned into Jeremy while Shelly continued to grossly overshare. “You realize she’s probably wondering what size diapers you wear.”
Predictably, Jeremy reacted by slamming me into the opposite wall. His nostrils flared. “I’m so sick of your crap.”
“Yeah?” I straightened up from the wall with a smile. “I’m not exactly—”
Shelly had fallen quiet as soon as Jeremy pushed me, but she started up again as Dad crested the stairs behind us. “And here he is.” Her voice held a note of relief, like she expected my brother and me to fall in line at the sight of our father. Once, that would have been true.
Dad’s arms were filled with bags. Jeremy went to help him; I did not.
“Thanks, Jer.” Then he stared at me. Dad looked about ten years older than the last time I’d seen him, with a scruffy half beard and more salt than pepper in his light brown hair. His normally suntanned complexion looked paler, too. But he was smiling, and that made me want to knock his teeth out. “Hi, buddy.”
“Don’t worry,” Shelly called out, drawing all eyes once again. “They only just got here. We’ve been getting to know each other. Paul, you didn’t tell me how cute your sons are. Jeremy looks just like you, and I bet Adam has the sweetest smile.” She flashed an inviting grin at me, and I continued not smiling as Dad thanked her and led us inside his apartment.
That was when I discovered Shelly’s first lie: it was not nicer inside. There were two tiny bedrooms, a small eat-in kitchen, and a slightly-larger-than-the-hallway living room that barely fit a couch and TV.
“So—” Dad clapped his hands “—who wants a tour?” Jeremy and I kept silent. “Guess I should save the jokes for after dinner, huh? I’ve got a lot of plans and I’m hoping you guys can help me with some of them. This building has good bones, you’ll see.”
“Yeah,” Jeremy said. “We’ll help.” He tried to catch my eye but I ignored him.
Dad pointed at the closed doors on the right. “I’m giving you guys the bedrooms. One has access to the balcony and the other has slightly more space.”
“Adam’s the youngest, so he can take the couch.”
“And you’re practically a hobbit,” I said. “I wouldn’t even fit.” Jeremy had nearly two years on me, but it’d been clear for a while that I’d gotten the height in the family. I’d grown two inches in the past year. Jeremy was five-nine with his shoes on and I was six-two barefoot. I enjoyed Jeremy’s reddened face before heading into the bedroom with the balcony.
“Okay then. Adam, I got a pillow for the lounge chair out there, but the balcony is probably held together by rust more than anything right now, so be careful.” He moved back to dig in one of his bags. “The lady at the store said it was fine to leave outside even in the snow—which it feels like we’re going to get early this year.”
I shut the door behind me and heard Dad’s voice trail off. The walls were paper-thin, so Dad and Jeremy’s somewhat stilted conversation chased me onto the balcony. It shook but felt sturdy enough. The view was... Well, it was the side of another building.