luckie street

chapter 10 »

Her lonesome little space glowed dimly from one small lamp without a shade sitting on a side table next to her couch. The old, off-white refrigerator garbled as it struggled to make ice and deposit in the freezer. Two day old plates and cups sat unwashed in her porcelain sink, which was currently incapable of disposing unfinished food. The small bits of potatoes and mushed meat on the plate gave her a flashback.

"Why aren't you touching that loaf? Your father made it with the seasoning you like." Her mother nagged in a monotone voice.

She was a very unfeeling woman, Riley's mother. Unlike her daughter, she wasn't fond of indulging in activities that evoke emotions.

"He's not my father," Riley began, "and I'm not hungry."

Her step dad looked up from his plate, angrily. "I don't care if you're not hungry. If I put food on that plate, you eat it."

Riley was never fond of father figures. The only positive male influence she had in her  life was her late grandfather. Everyone else was simply just another background role in the play.

"You're trying too hard." She responded, her arms crossed and her head down.

"Excuse me?" Glenn, was his name, sounded.

"You're trying too hard. Just like Henry, Sal, and Alexander, you're trying too hard to play dad. You having a kid with my mother makes you a dad, sure. But my dad? You're a good 15 years late for that one. And even so, I don't know why you'd strive to be an alcoholic, abusive bastard that can't get bail or parole."

Riley snapped back to the present. Nine years had passed, and Glenn still bothered her.

She begun to gather her clothes and prepare for her shower. Closing and locking the door behind her out of habit, she undressed. When she stripped her jacket, the napkin with Steve's phone number on it was pulled out of her pocket and proceeded to float to the tile floor. She bent down and picked it up, not sure if she should actually call like he said to.

Riley huffed to herself, putting the napkin on her sink. It can wait until after I shower, she thought.

The warm water slid down her back and her muscles slowly went from tensed to relaxed. She took her hair out of her ponytail and let the water turn it from medium brunette to a solid black.

-

"Riley?" A muted, deep voice asked.

"Yes, it's me."

"I'm glad you called." Steve sounded relieved.

"Sure, sure."

He sighed. "Randy's a good guy. Vin still is, he's just...distracted, I guess. I've known them both since high school, and that's when they hopped into the drug scene. A few grams of marijuana here, some Adderall there. Nothing major. Then some dumb fuck convinced the even dumber fucks to start pushing harder stuff. The dude recruited them from small time dealers to his main correspondents. I knew it wasn't going to end well.

"Randy, I wasn't worried about. Vincenzo, however, I knew it was only a matter of time. He's always been easily influenced. He promised me he'd only deal, but around seven months ago he started using. Curiosity killed the cat, I suppose. After we all left lunch, I realized I worded something wrong. They aren't dangerous. What they do is. I wouldn't get too attached if I were smart about this." Steve finished, expecting silence.

Riley wasn't wasting time. "Do they move around a lot?"

"No, they've been pretty fortunate in not having a slip up with the feds. I was convinced it wouldn't last as long as it has, but I guess I was wrong."

She was confused. "How'd Randy end up in this anyway if he's "a good guy"?"

Steve breathed hard. "He's super good at math. Like, ridiculously good. He does the books for Vincenzo's bar. Funny how he's such a prodigy with numbers but can never properly work the scale and seperate the bags by their weight. I think it's because the coke makes him nervous."

"He just does it because Vincenzo's his friend?"

"Yup. He's a people pleaser like that." 

Riley pondered on the thought of the rugged, callous Randy could feel the compulsive need to keep others happy. She craved a beer at the thought of him. Steve noticed her silence.

"You're starting to like him, aren't you?"

"I barely know him."

"It was a yes or no question."

"No."

"I don't believe you."

"You don't have to."

"I'll talk to you later, Riley. If you have any questions, give me a ring."

"Who says "give me a ring" anymore?" 

Steve ignored the jab. "If you're in any trouble, give Randy a ring. I'll give you his number."

"Thanks." She graced him with sarcasm again.

"If you want to find love, then you know where the city is." Steve hung up.