Creampuffs

Chapter Twenty-One

"He used you as patsies!" Dolores blurted, horrified. "How can you be happy about that?"

Michelle giggled. "'Patsies'?"

Bryan scowled. "You're not taking this seriously."

She gave an expansive shrug. "What is there to take? Uncle Gary's a career criminal. Maybe not anything big, maybe he didn't do anything scary, but he ran with people who did. Look at that whatisface who killed that other guy. Look at Leo." Dolores' face fell, presumably in commiseration with Marietta. "Sorry, Lola. But just because he's our uncle, B, doesn't mean he should get away with all the shit that he's been involved with over the years."

"I guess."

"You just want to think of him getting away with it because it's one more wild Haley living fancy-free, like Grandma always went on about. Speaking of, how's Dad?"

"The usual."

Michelle nodded in understanding. "Half-way to a coronary and not saying anything about it."

"Bingo."

The silence stretched out; there was little to add, and Michelle was surprised to discover she wasn't even all that curious. Uncle Gary—at some point over the past eight months he'd quietly turned back into plain 'Uncle Gary'. She examined that realization, turning it over her mind like a shiny artifact, noticing a corresponding lack of rage in herself.

She wasn't angry any more. Yes, Uncle Gary had played them. But it had been a learning experience, and she'd come out better for it. It was what it was. She looked up at her brother, realizing she wasn't disappointed in him any more either. It, too, had just slipped away, no longer reinforced by unhappiness in other areas of her life. "How are you doing?"

Bryan tilted his head, registering the new tone. "I'm... I'm doing okay."

"You look tired."

He ran his hands through his hair again. "I guess. A little."

"We turned the little office into a kitchenette," Dolores said, looking between them. "Maybe I should put the kettle on."

"Derek's got this new scheme." Bryan wrapped his fingers around the steaming mug, while Michelle seated herself beside him in one of the folding chairs. She glanced at the clock over the door; about ten minutes before people would usually begin arriving for the first class of the day.

"New schemes are always good."

"This one's complicated... there's points now. Points for new clients, points for re-signing regulars, points for fuckin'... showing up and doing your job. Then you can trade them for, like, extra days off, whatever. I dunno. I try not to pay any attention to it. Maybe Derek thought it would be like gold stars or something but it's... we're all pretty competitive guys. People," he corrected. "I mean, most of us literally compete in sports or matches or whatever."

"So instead of being a reward, it's used like a stick," Michelle finished for him, nodding in understanding.

"Right. Right. It's like a stock exchange in there. People used to yell but that got disruptive, so they actually flash their goddamn fingers now, every time they make a point. Like in an old movie about stockbrokers, you know? And it's all anybody talks about on breaks. And the couple of us that don't... that want to just concentrate on doing a good job?" He let a whoosh of air through his lips, then took a sip of tea. "I still think about it, you know."

She knew.

"I was just so wrapped up in trying to please Mom and Dad that I didn't stop to question any of it. And now I watch guys giving the hard sell to people they're supposed to be helping, just for the same thing—a pat on the head. It's nuts." He looked at the clock. "Classes starting soon?"

"Yeah," Michelle agreed. "Lola takes first class. Then we alternate. We've just signed a trainer—cute as a button. Speaks Cantonese and wants to do classes in it, so we can finally say we do Cantonese lessons like in that article."

"Fun."

"She says she knows some Korean, too. Might be easier for beginners; no tones."

"Tones could be fun."

"Tones could be fun too." She agreed, pulling the phrase away from her, like a rubber band, until it snapped and dangled. Dolores stretched in the opposite corner. Tinny music from the speakers in the corner added to the silence, instead of subtracting, and outside the two half-basement windows snow fell in big fat flakes onto the still uncleared path.

It was cozy. It was hers.

"You know, we're looking for new trainers," she said, finishing her cup.

Bryan shook his head. "Yeah? I don't know."

"I don't mean teach classes—you could bring clients here for after-hours weights. "

At that, he did stop and consider, his nose twitching. "...might work." He looked at her from the corner of his eye. "You're not mad any more. Not even a little?"

She smiled, touching her socks on the radiator to see if they were dry yet. "Nope."

He smiled back, relieved. "I was a bit of a jerk."

"You were."

"Although you were a bit of a bossy boots."

"I was," she agreed. "I was afraid. I didn't know what I was doing and I didn't want it to show." The outside door opened, Ally stomping her feet clean to the sound of jingles.

"You seem happier."

She shrugged. "I like what I do."

"Dolores seems happy too."

"Of course she does—she gets to help people all day long by being silly and moving around." Michelle stood as the door jingled again. "I need to go sign people in and then shovel the alley."

"Yeah. I don't want to get in your way—I just wanted to tell you about Uncle Gary in person. We still haven't gone over details."

Michelle shrugged. "You're not in the way. Once the class starts we can talk as long as we need to." She raised her voice in cheerful greeting: "Hi girls! Be right with you!"

Once the alley was shoveled clear, they spent the rest of the hour camped out by the reception desk, catching up, enjoying the tea, conversation, and music, while the class went on around them.

As Lola wrapped up, Bryan prepared to leave. As he slipped on his jacket, he paused, remembering. "I forgot to mention—you know down the street, that big empty place?" he asked. "That big glass-fronted shop next to the furniture store."

"Yeah, yeah. Took a while to get leased. Paper all over the windows last week. What about it?"

"You should go knock on the door, say hello." Bryan zipped his coat. He had a slight smile that Michelle couldn't fathom, and she was sure her confusion showed on her face.

"But they aren't open yet."

"I know." His smile deepened. "But do it anyway."