You Can't Break Her

Chapter seventeen: part four | April

April 2007
Bayhollow, Ontario

"My cousin is going to stay with us for a few weeks. My mom didn't want him staying in her place, so she got him to call me."

I turned my head from the computer to see Patrick standing at the kitchen door, shirtless with jeans on. "What's he like?"

Patrick rolled his eyes, "He's a real winner. He's a pothead that doesn't understand responsibility."

His comment might have stirred something within me if I could see myself. In my head I was still a child who wanted freedom, instead of being exactly what he described.

John showed up a few hours after Patrick informed me he was coming. "I know a guy who can get your product for a good price. Are you looking to sell?" His cousin was no more than the simpleton he was described as. "I can call him now. You could be in business tonight."

I watched Patrick mull over the offer for a half second before his eyes locked with mine. "What do you think?" His eyes told me that he already knew the answer.

I could barely contain my excitement over the conversation, "I think it's a great idea. Can we really do that though?"

Patrick nodded.

"I'll give him a call." John stepped out into the hall.

We met with the guy after sundown in the back parking lot of a bank. "I need the money before I can give you the product," the tall bearded man announced when we came to stop in front of him.

Patrick gave him a handful of bills and grabbed the bag from the man's hand. There were no more words required, money and items had been exchanged so we left for our house.

I invited my cousin, Kat, over to explain what we were doing. I hoped she knew anyone who would buy from us. She and I took a handful in a baggy to the newly refinished boardwalk; where we sat in the gazebo in the darkness on a clear, beautiful night.

"Did you know my dad was a pot dealer when we were kids?" She asked before taking a puff of the joint I had just rolled.

"No. How did you find out?"

She passed back the doobie, extending her legs, resting her weight on her hands behind her. "I used to bake brownies, and I would sprinkle mint from the freezer on them," she admitted. "One day I asked my parents why we kept our mint leaves in the freezer."

"How long before you put two and two together?"

She giggled, "Much longer than it should have taken."

We grew up together. We weren't blood related to our knowledge, but we were best friends and as close as family. We talked for the rest of the night in that calm, safe-space. Reminiscing and enjoying each other's company.

Though we wished the night could last forever, we knew it couldn't. It was a night of peace and tranquility. A marker in time before everything spun out of control.