Rev by JC Emery Read Free Book Online

twenty-three.
    “Bulb’s busted,” I say and point to the ceiling. She purses her lips and gives me a big smile. It’s the kind of smile our fathers hated when we were growing up because, when Mindy smiles like this, it means we’re going to get in trouble for doing something we shouldn’t. Back before the world fell apart and then everything sort of…crumbled…I used to love that smile. I longed for it when we were in the church pews on Sunday mornings and trying to pass notes. I lived for that smile back when we were in high school, and I was nearing graduation, but Mindy had just begun, and she convinced me that we so totally had to crash a frat party at Humboldt State. That smile even made me laugh when her dad, my uncle Harry—the cop—had to come pick us up at the frat party at Humboldt State because my car had been broken into and Mindy didn’t give a damn about daddy’s lectures because she’d gotten a freshman named Heath’s phone number. And that smile nearly made me split in two when, a few years later, Mindy had returned home after leaving two days after graduation and telling me she’d married Heath in Reno.
    But that was the before Mindy, and the before Mindy could be silly wild. She could get into a little bit of trouble and eat too much ice cream. But I don’t know which Mindy this is, and her smiles don’t sit right with me anymore. I can’t bring myself to smile all silly-like and to just go along with whatever little scheme she has cooked up. I just can’t trust that she won’t go back to that place.
    So I don’t smile. I just stare at her, waiting for an explanation. It’s probably not the best way to get started rooming with someone, but this is Mindy—regardless of which Mindy it is—and she gets it. She was there, mostly the cause of it, and she doesn’t take things all that personally. At least she didn’t used to.
    “Relax,” she says, with the big smile on her face waning slightly. “I was just thinking that we could walk down to the hardware store, and then we could grab a pizza while we’re out. Nothing crazy.”
    “Sorry,” I say. The words come out forced, and I sound like I’m being strangled. I don’t really want to apologize for my reaction, but it’s the polite thing to do. Besides, even though I know Mindy will forgive my rudeness and selfishness, I don’t think I would. I’ve been over this with myself a hundred times. It’s about time I stop blaming Mindy for the last four years. I silently repeat the mantra my community-provided therapist taught me: I am not powerless; I have a choice.
    “It’s fine,” she says and waves my comment away. Her smile is totally gone now, and her eyes find the floor. It’s obviously not fine, and this is one of the reasons I didn’t think us living together again was such a great idea. We have too much baggage and too much tormented history to peacefully cohabitate. But peace or no peace, I can’t afford to live on my own right now, so my options are limited.
    “No,” I say and reach out for her hand. She doesn’t pull away, but nor does she offer it to me. Snaking my fingers between hers and squeezing, I pull her closer to me. “Pizza sounds great, and maybe if I eat, I’ll stop being a jerk.” A small smile creeps onto her face, and I know I have her. We leave the shadowy room behind and head down the long hallway until we’re in the narrow galley kitchen that shares its space with a small dining area. I let go of her hand to grab my purse, and then we’re out the front door and down the stairs. Within a minute, we’re on East Oak—just half a block off Main Street.
    Uncle Harry doesn’t like the location because of its proximity to the town’s resident motorcycle club, and my mother doesn’t like it because I’m almost ten minutes away from her. But the rent is reasonable, parking is easy, and Mindy doesn’t even have to drive to work anymore. Plus, after living with my mother for the last three