The Best I Could by R. K. Ryals Page B

in.”
    “Sounds like your love life,” Deena
tittered.
    My eyes widened, my hand lifting dramatically
to my chest. “Well, I’ll be. Was that a joke? Was the almighty pain
in the ass cracking a joke?”
    Deena’s face fell into a scowl. “Seriously,
fuck off.
    My amusement died. “It was funny, Deena. It’s
okay to laugh, you know.”
    The morning started off cool but turned hot
and humid much quicker than I thought it would. The sun beat down,
slashing my skin. A lightweight jacket I’d removed sometime after
breakfast was tied around my waist, and the silver hoop earrings
I’d pushed into the lobes of my ears were warm, the heated metal
brushing my neck.
    “Did you say something?” my grandmother’s
voice asked. Throwing a look over my shoulder, I found Hetty
standing in the grass behind me. Her eyes fell on the window
screen. “How did that happen?”
    I didn’t have to look to know Deena had
ducked out of sight.
    “No idea,” I answered.
    Hetty’s gaze slid to the open window above
me. “I’m sure.” Sighing, she gestured at the ground. “Look, I don’t
know what you’re going to need to work on the yard, but here.” She
handed me a roll of money. “It’s my ‘use when needed’ stash. This,”
she gestured at the lawn, “is a good idea, Tansy. You can take the
van into town if you need.”
    Above me, I heard a faint snicker and a
taunting, “Dirt whisperer.”
    The night before suddenly washed over me,
ramming my thoughts with scarily seductive images of Eli Lockston
standing in the overgrown lot next to the rescue. My heart
pounded.
    “What if … and this is going to sound crazy,
but,” my gaze rose to the window, “what if we enrolled Deena in a
boxing program. I heard there was one in town that caters to
troubled youth.”
    Deena’s head popped up above the windowsill.
“Hell, no!”
    Hetty studied my face. Minutes passed, her
voice full of suspicion when she asked, “How do you know that?”
    I fidgeted, my fingers fisting around the
bills she’d given me. “I heard it from the new guy working at the
rescue. He was talking to Vanessa about it when he first came
in.”
    Smooth lie. Not so smooth delivery.
    “The asshole alcoholic?” Deena screeched.
“What the hell, Tansy?”
    I glared up at her. “It’s part of his
community service.” My gaze dropped to Hetty. “From what I heard,
he has experience in boxing.”
    She frowned. “He’ll be training troubled
youth?”
    Deena laughed. “When he’s all messed up
himself? What a load of bullshit!”
    “Deena!” Hetty warned.
    “Whatever,” my sister continued, unfazed. “It
doesn’t matter because I’m not doing it.” She crossed her arms.
    Hetty’s jaw tightened, Deena’s reluctance
pushing her over the edge. Stepping forward, she touched my
shoulder. “Boxing for troubled youth, huh?”
    “You can’t be serious!” Deena scoffed. “Are
you actually considering this, Nana?” Her hands fell to her sides.
“The man is a criminal! You want me to take lessons from a
criminal?”
    “He had a DUI, for God’s sake,” I intervened.
“He didn’t murder anyone.”
    “He could have,” Hetty muttered, her
shoulders slumping. “But I don’t see how getting involved could
make things any worse.”
    “There is no way in hel—” Deena began.
    Hetty’s face hardened. “Then hell it is.
You’ve got to find some way to channel all of this rage.” Pulling a
set of keys from her pocket, she handed them to me. “Take your
sister into town and stop at the boxing club. See if she qualifies
for one of the classes. If not, maybe they’ll change their minds
when they meet her.”
    “Total shit!” Deena spat. “There’s nothing
wrong with me.”
    “No,” Hetty agreed. “Nothing except a
complete lack of respect for other people and anger toward anyone
who tries to help you. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”
Shaking her head, she walked away.
    My gaze trailed her.
    “I hate you, Tansy!” Deena