Hammer Read Free Page B

where we are today. Of course, my sister and I could have worked at a grocery store for the rest of our lives and still been better than them. Mom worked at the local diner that paid jack shit because she thought it was “groovy,” and our father was a long-haul trucker because he couldn’t get any other decent paying job due to his record, and both of them couldn’t have cared less about the kids they left home alone.
    My sister pops her head around my bedroom door, her dirty blonde hair hanging like a waterfall. “Aren’t you ready yet? I’m itchin’ to go!”
    Rolling my eyes at her impatience, I keep one hand on the towel wrapped around my body and use my other hand to grab one of the pillows on my bed to throw at her. She dodges the fluffy missile, continuing to walk into my room with her hands on her hips.
    With a big smile, she jokes, “You’re gettin’ ornery in your old age.”
    Giving her the stink eye, I look over her outfit. Tonight, she’s wearing a shimmery black, spaghetti strap tank top; tight red pants; and four–inch, shiny, black, snakeskin heels. Total class and sass.
    If we weren’t only a year apart in age, I would seriously wonder if she wasn’t joking. Suzie lives her life at a hundred mile per hour pace. One could easily figure that out about my sister after being in her presence for a few minutes. She’s so full of energy that she practically bounces on her toes. Her brown eyes are super expressive, and she usually has a bright, easy going smile on her face. Her wardrobe often matches her no-holds-barred attitude.
    I huff and shoo her out of my room so I can dry off and get dressed. I wouldn’t say I’m the opposite of Suzie, but I would say I like to live in the slow lane. I also don’t stand out as much as my brightly shining younger sister. It is okay, though, because I’m good with who I am, inside and out.
    Physically, Suzie and I only have two things in common: lush, curvy bodies and our warm, espresso-colored eyes. She is tall to my somewhat short five-foot-four height, and her curves are more hourglass to my pear. The years of running make my bottom half stronger than my top, but daily activities keep me toned throughout.
    Unlike my sister, I keep my rich brown, curly hair short in a messy bob. It is easy to style yet still sexy. I also dress a bit more low-key with my own kind of flare. Tonight, I have pulled out my favorite black dress pants and paired them with a white, short-sleeved blouse that has a black lace overlay. Slipping my feet into a pair of black leather peep-toe booties, my outfit is done, and I’m headed back to the bathroom to do my makeup and hair.
    Quickly, I glam up, and then we head out for the night. First stop, Sparky’s. It is a small hole in the wall joint with dollar drafts and karaoke.
    Two beers in, I smile as my sister dances on her bar stool. She has been glancing around since we got inside, making me wonder if she’s expecting someone. Curiosity fills me.
    “What brought on the surprise visit?”
    She seems caught off guard by my question and almost stumbles off her stool. Gingerly sitting back down because of her heels, she starts peeling the label off her beer. “I missed ya. Plus, I wanted a change in scenery.”
    Raising an eyebrow at her, I smile. “Long-term change?” I can’t hide the hope in my voice.
    She gives the same carefree laugh she always has. “Coastal life isn’t for me, Desirae.”
    “You’re here now. That should say something.”
    “Yeah, it says, occasionally, I need to clear my lungs and breathe fresh air to funnel some of the smog out of my system.”
    The music changes, and the mood around us shifts as the eighties beat blares through the speakers. My sister and I both hop off our bar stools and hit the dance floor like two girls who just wanna have fun.
    Childhood memories flash in my mind of hair brush microphones, big hair, and high-top sneakers. Then, we had our high school days and those nineties