hanging up, so you can stop laughing at me.”
Hanging up the phone with a bang, she turned and glared at Jess, who was helplessly snickering, draped across the back of her office chair. “I hope you are happy; he’s going to hold that over me forever. G ah! Would you get to work on the Donnelly project, please? And stop laughing at me!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jess retorted, turning back to her screens, but not before she laughed out loud again at the image of Mica so embarrassed during the phone call with Gentry.
Taking a deep breath, Mica dialed Michael’s cellphone next, hearing loud laughter and fast rock music when he answered. She closed her eyes and asked, “Hey, Michael, where are you on the Smithson design?” He responded with a laugh and shushed someone near the phone. “I’m working on it right now, Sis. Got changes or something for me before I book for the day?”
Brushing her dark bangs back from her forehead and biting softly on her thumb, Mica closed her eyes to ask the question she dreaded, “Michael, have you been drinking?”
Clinking glassware sounded clearly through the phone. “No, Sis, I’ve not been drinking, fuck you very much.” Hearing laughter in the background again, and a voice that said, “The fuck you have not been drinking; here’s the next round, you bastard,” she knew it was time to cut the cord, probably for the last time. They’d been down this road so many times over the past six months, but it was finally time to turn that corner for good.
“I told you what would happen the last time you did this, Michael. You can’t keep doing this to yourself…and me. I can’t let you. We all know it’s not your fault Emily died. No one blames you, Mikey. Her life—well, we both know how hard it had been. She—it’s simply…you are killing yourself just as surely this way as any other.” She stopped to take in a deep breath. “But this is it, I’m sorry. I’ll have all your stuff boxed and sitting at the end of the driveway by the time you get to my house. Don’t try to come in; you are not welcome in my home any longer.” Michael started yelling at her, but Mica just kept talking over him steadily and without anger. “Anything I miss packing up can be mailed to your new address, once you have one. Locks will be changed by the time I get home, so don’t bother keeping the key. Goodbye, Mikey.”
Abruptly hanging up the phone despite his protests, she put her cold, tense hands on either side of her face and asked Jess, “Did you hear?”
Nodding sadly, Jess affirmed without speaking, keeping her gaze steady on Mica’s face. Picking up the phone again, Mica called a locksmith she had used for the loft and made arrangements for him to change all the locks on her house. Thank goodness I didn’t give Michael a key to the office , she thought as she sat back in her chair. The emergency service call and work on her home would set her back a few hundred dollars, and that would hurt dipping into her slim reserves.
“I gotta go take care of this; I’ll try to be back later,” Mica said, jackknifing up to snag her coat and purse as she fled the loft and space that had so often been her refuge. She knew her family was shit, but couldn’t bear Jess’s pitying looks any longer. “I’ll take the train down. I’m leaving the car here in case you need it. If you don’t, then leave it in the lot and I’ll pick it up tomorrow.” Tossing the car keys from her purse onto the desk as she went through the door, she wound a scarf around her neck while waiting for the elevator.
Jess watched her leave through the glass doors, and waited until Mica had descended out of sight before she picked up the phone to make a call of her own. “Mason, shit’s hittin’ the fan, man. She’s gonna need you and your Rebels.”
8 - In an instant
Exiting the train a few blocks north of her house, Mica walked briskly down the sidewalk while keeping her head and gaze down
Learning to Kill: Stories