Chapter 3
I was dozing on the couch in my apartment several hours later when my cell rang. I rolled over to grab it and glanced at the screen: my mother. I rolled my eyes and momentarily considered letting it go to voicemail, but then thought better of it. She'd continue to call until I answered.
"Hi Ma,"
"Lizzie! I need a ride to the doctor this afternoon, can you come pick me up?"
"What?" I wasn't entirely sure this wasn't another one of her tricks "When?"
"In an hour, I need to be there Liz, this is important."
I sighed. My mother can drive and she knows her way around town, but she seems to only do so when it's convenient for her. Which meant that if she wanted me to give her a ride, she had other plans for me- plans I was sure I didn't want to be part of.
"Ma, I'm at work right now, I can't come."
"Liz, don't you lie to me. I know what time you get done at work,"
Shit, I thought. I hadn't bothered to look at what time it was when I answered.
"Isn't Mike still in town? Can't he take you? Or Nate?" or anyone, I thought to myself.
"Your brothers are busy, Elizabeth. Now, come over here I need to get going,"
Ugh. Apparently there was no getting out of this.
"Alright, fine. I'm on my way,"
"Good. See you soon honey, be careful driving," Ma said, pleased.
I rolled my eyes and sat up off the couch, more annoyed than ever. Having Mike home was beginning to be a huge pain. He couldn't even drive mom to one appointment? God knows I've paid my dues trucking her around for the last ten years, you think he could at least take her one. But of course, Ma probably didn't even ask. She'd much rather bother me with useless stuff then my brothers because "they're busy". Please. I knew for a fact they were both out stealing, Mike from SanCo and Nate was probably at least still stealing cable. We were a family of thieves, at least that much I knew.
I resigned myself to my fate and got myself together to take mom to her appointment. After I picked her up at home she rewarded me by keeping up a near constant chatter on the way there.
"Wasn't it so nice to see your brother?" she asked, pulling out her cigarettes.
"Ma, please don't smoke in my car."
She ignored me.
"He's been gone so long. I just love it when we are all home together. I wonder how long he will stay this time; " she continued all while lighting up her cig and taking a puff, blowing the acrid smoke into the dash.
I pressed the window button my driver's side door, rolling down all the windows at once. Another reason I hate driving my mother around. My car smells like bar for days afterward.
"Wasn't it so nice to see him?" she asked again.
"Yeah." I said shortly, keeping my eyes on the road.
"I just hate that he missed your father's funeral."
Oh God. Here we go. She just can't help herself.
"I'm sure he's fine with it ma," I said rolling my eyes.
"They were so much alike, you know? It must have been so hard on Michael,"
What? I hoped I was taking her to a mental health appointment, because I think she might have lost her mind.
"Ma, they were nothing alike. They hated each other!"
"Oh Lizzie, don't say such things! Your father and brothers got along so well, remember all those times working on the car? They loved it,"
"Uh, I remember them dodging the wrenches he threw." I said.
This is my mother, completely delusional. Its like she tries to fix the past by ignoring it, telling us it didn't happen. She prefers to make believe we all grew up in a normal loving home- maybe it just easier on her to remember it that way. I wish I could say the same. There was no easy way for me to remember, just that I preferred not to.
"Well, I'm hoping he will stay at least until this weekend. We're going to have a family dinner on Sunday."
"We are?" I asked, incredulous. We had never had a Sunday family dinner, ever. We hadn't even really had a dinner together since Mike left. Nate and I lived our own separate lives, coming together only when Ma prodded us or tricked us into doing something together. It was easier for me that way. The less family stuff the better in my opinion. I had my own life and my own friends who treated me far better then my family ever had.
"Yes we are. And don't sound so surprised!" mom snapped. "It's going to be very nice!"
Thankfully we had just pulled up to the medical building and mom hopped out, before I even had the car off.
"Ma, wait I'll come in with you." I called out to her,
I shut the car off as she peered down through the window. "No, honey its ok I know you have work to do, you go ahead."
"Well when do you want me to come get you?"
"Oh don't worry about it honey, I'll call your brother." With that she turned and walked away quickly, her flip-flops smacking against the pavement.
She'll call my brother. The brothers that she couldn't call earlier, cause they were busy? Ah! That woman drives me crazy. I bet she didn't even have an appointment. She's going to go right into that office and call Mike or Nate to come get her. This was just her way of inviting me to Sunday dinner.
I shook my head. I should know better. Nothing is ever easy in this family. My only consolation now being that at least one of my brothers was going to sit through the same beautiful car ride with her back home.
As I drove back to my apartment my mind was still on my brothers. Nate and I were a lot alike. We only had two years between us and we got along pretty well. We didn't see each other very much now that we were adults, but I'd still exchange sarcastic text messages with him about mom's antics.
Nate was the one who helped me out when I was desperate. He wasn't great at playing the protective older brother, but I at least knew I could rely on him if I really needed it.
Thinking back, Mike was always the one who protected Nate and me from our father, our mother, even the neighborhood bullies. I remembered one time when Nate when was being picked on by several older kids, and Mike stood up for him -landing one solid punch to the leader kid that knocked him out cold. The other kids just stood there in complete disbelief, their friend unconscious at their feet. Mike always did have a strong right hook, I thought to myself smiling.
I mentally chided myself for thinking about Michael and our past again. It was so frustrating to have all these memories keep forcing themselves upon me. It had been years since I thought about those neighborhood kids. And since dad's death I'd let myself lock away all the memories of him as well. I lived in the moment now, always thinking about where I was going, and not where I had come from. It was the best way I knew to deal.
As I arrived back at my apartment, I couldn't shake the thought of what Michael had been doing at that firm, and what he was doing back in Miami. It had already been over a week since I'd first seen him in mom's dining room, far longer than he had ever stayed home before. The last time it was only two days. I understood why he never wanted to stay, and accepted it, but it was making it that much weirder that he was still hanging around. Something was definitely going on.
I tried to push past my curiosity and suspicion and called one of my best girlfriend go out of for dinner, ready to move on. We went out to eat at one of my favorite Cuban places and had a great dinner but I kept finding myself getting distracted.
Maybe he had been discharged from the army. If he were, why wouldn't he just say so? Unless it was a dishonorable discharge- that might keep him quiet. Maybe he was a deserter- he just couldn't take the killing anymore and disappeared. That'd be like him. Just run away from a problem.
My friend noticed my distance throughout the night and continued to question me about it. I refused to comment. Not even my closest friends know about all my family drama, and even my best friend thinks I only have one older brother. I mean, how do you explain that your oldest brother willing disappeared at 17? And that you hate him for it? Not exactly, an easy topic of conversation.
She eventually got tired of my distance and suggested I go home and get some rest, instead of coming out to a party with her and some other friends. She said I looked tired; maybe I was coming down with something. I knew that she was really just tired of asking me what was wrong.
I let her go and headed back home, angry at myself and at Michael for ruining my night.
As I turned on the television in my apartment, hoping to let the meaningless chatter drown out my inner thoughts, one thing struck me. If I was going to stop thinking about Mike I'd have to figure out what was doing back here. If I knew that he was back for good, I could avoid him. If I found out he was leaving again, all the, better I could go back to my normal life. One way or other I needed to know, all this speculation was driving me insane.
At work the following day, after spending the morning answering polite questions regarding my health after two days of absence, I used the county computers to do a little research on my brother. Working for the county housing authority doesn't give me access to everything, but with a little know how and an access code I've been able to get ahold of necessary documents in the past. It's one of the reasons I have never had a parking ticket.
I searched for records of Michael for most of the day, in between answering phone calls and managing my daily offices tasks. I found almost nothing on him. He didn't come up in any of the housing directories, which meant he hadn't signed lease on any apartment. He didn't have a mortgage, or any type of insurance records. He didn't have a police record, or any court documents. The one piece of information I found on him was his first driver's license, still listing mom's address as his home.
A dead end.
I'd have to come up with another way to figure him out.
It wasn't until the next day that the idea of following Sam came to me. Sam and Mike obviously worked together and seemed to be friends, so it was likely that Sam knew what Michael was up to, or at least where he was living. I decided to have lunch at the Carlito, the restaurant that Sam I had recently met at to exchange the key card. I remembered him being fairly flirty and familiar with the waitresses so I figured he was a regular.
When I arrived at the restaurant, I was surprised to immediately spot Sam sitting a table with both my brother and Fiona. I turned back around, quickly not wanting to be spotted. It took me a moment, but I was able to make my way to the back of the restaurant and enter through the side patio dining space, avoiding them. I kept behind the group, not looking, using only my peripheral vision to keep an eye on them.
I calmly made my way to an empty table that was situated near the door to the patio and sat down, picking up the drink menu that was sitting on the table. I had chosen the seat of the table nearest the open door so that part of my view was obscured by the glass and frame. I was still able to see the group however, Michael and Fiona with their backs to me and Sam sipping on a mojito talking to them.
I couldn't hear what they were saying from where I was, but that didn't matter, the important thing was that I found them. And relatively easily too, I was surprised by that.
I studied the drink menu, casting slow sidelong glances at the group. Sam and Fiona seemed relaxed, both chatting and sipping their drinks. Michael sat up straight, his impeccable posture noticeable once more. I wondered briefly if that was a military thing. Neither Nate nor I had the ramrod posture Mike held, so he must have picked it up outside the house.
The waitress brought me a menu and I perused it, deciding to only order a drink since it looked like the group had already finished eating and might be leaving soon. I planned to tail Michael back to where ever he was staying, hoping it might give me a clue as to how long he might be around.
The waitress brought me my requested iced tea and left me to examine the menu once more.
I continued to watch them from the corner of my eye, regretting not choosing a closer seat. Seeing them was great, but I was anxious to know what they were discussing. Whatever it was, I could see it wasn't making Fiona happy. She scowled into her drink as she sat sipping the straw. She didn't seem like a particularly cheerful woman the first time we met, but seeing her look so angrily at her Bloody Mary was making me nervous.
I glanced away from them, digging into my bag and bringing out my phone, aimlessly scrolling through my text messages and contacts, trying to look inconspicuous.
Their waitress brought over their check, smiling down at Sam flirtatiously. I saw Fiona roll her eyes and stifled a laugh. Mike reached into his back pocket and the same time grabbed the black book that held the receipt. He glanced at the paper, and stood up opening his wallet, Fiona stood with him and Sam finished off his drink. I saw Mike push a small handful of single bills into the book, before setting it back on the table and turning to walk away.
At his turn, I leaned back in my chair, using the wood frame of the door to block myself from his view. The three walked outside and stood chatting momentarily just outside the restaurant. Now that they had moved my table choice wasn't that great, but the wind had picked up and fragments of their conversation floated towards me.
"….ok.. back at the loft…" Michael was saying.
"I'll see…." Said Sam.
That was all I caught before they walked away, each going a different direction. I quickly reached into my bag, pulling out a $5 dollar bill and leaving it on the table. I figured that would be enough to cover the tea, and I wasn't about to wait for the waitress to bring me a check.
I threw my phone in my bag and slid of the restaurant, trying to look casual. I had lost Mike after they left the front of the restaurant, but saw that he headed south- away from the back parking lot where Fiona had gone.
I just caught the backside of his suit jacket, as it turned the corner onto Salita Avenue. I quickly rushed to follow, needing to keep him in sight. When I turned the corner, I spotted him- walking down the street cell phone pressed to one ear.
He paused, standing on the sidewalk and threw his head back in frustration. Ha. I smiled to myself. I knew that one. He was on the phone with mom. No doubt about that horrible Sunday dinner she wanted. It was nice to see he didn't want to go either, although I knew we would both end up there.
Michael walked a few paces before hanging up with mom. The first thing he did when he got of the phone was scan the area around him, as if he was looking for someone.
Maybe he's meeting someone I thought, careful to stay out his line of sight.
I continued to follow him for several more blocks, having to duck behind bushes and walk into random shops several times along the way, as he kept a close eye on his surroundings. He was constantly checking and double-checking the area after every turn he made. I wonder if he knew how suspicious he looked to anyone watching.
I nearly abandoned my little stalker watch when he finally led me down to a more industrial part of town near the water.
Now he's just walking aimlessly, I thought to myself. There's no way there is anything down here.
As he came around another corner, just in front of a vacant looking club called The Warehouse, he froze and turned around, now facing my direction.
I was still nearly a block away, standing behind an old post office box and a telephone pole.
"You wanna tell me why you're following me?" he called out, standing and looking in my direction.
I couldn't believe he had seen me. I'd stayed far away, almost losing him several times, but somehow he still knew.
I didn't move from my spot immediately. He just stood in the middle of the sidewalk expectantly, not saying anything.
I sighed and stepped out to face him. When I did he began walking towards me.
"So, you wanna tell me why you're following me?" he asked again, quickly crossing the distance between us and coming to stand in front of me.
"I'm not following you," I lied reflexively. I don't even know why I did that. I was clearly following him, there would be no other reason for me to be in this area of town, on foot and alone. Sometimes the lies just slipped out easier than the truth.
"You're not huh?" he asked "So you just happen to be walking through the an industrial park in Miami on an afternoon stroll?"
My mind spun to come up with a clever lie to cover my tracks. As I opened my mouth to begin my tale, Mike held up a hand to stop me.
"Save it. Stop following me. Its not safe." He said tersely. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell, quickly dialing.
"Who are you calling?" I asked.
"A cab. You're leaving." Mike was on the phone with the cab company in moments, giving them our location.
I sighed, defeated. So much for my plan. We stood in silence while we waited for the cab to arrive.
"What do you mean it's not safe?" I asked suddenly.
Mike didn't look at me, just stared out to the water, his hands in his pockets.
"Like this area of towns not safe?" I asked again prodding. Maybe I could get something out of him and my day wouldn't be wasted.
He tilted his head to look at me. "You know what I mean."
I did know what he meant, but I'd rather hear it from him. Being around him wasn't safe; I got that much- I really just wanted to know why.
I was debating my next line of questioning when the cab pulled up in front of us. He opened the door and ushered me in, handing the driver a folded bill through the window.
"I can pay for my own cab," I called angrily through the window.
Michael just grinned at me, clearly enjoying my irritation.
I gave the driver my address and we were off, Mike still standing on the sidewalk as we pulled away. I slumped back in the seat, tired and annoyed that I was no closer to figuring Mike out.
