Our car, a 2010 white Jetta, pulled up behind us.
Margo, one of Zack’s many sisters, had driven it for us.
When she stepped out of the car her wine red hair, wife beater, camo pants and
black leather boots instantly clashed with the Leave It to Beaver surroundings.
“Holy shit!” When she spoke her words seemed to vibrate
through the quiet streets. “You really are moving to the middle of nowhere.”
Zack hugged his sister, but I hung back.
Margo Willis never seemed to warm up to me. She was nice
enough, but it was clear that she always thought her brother could have done
better. When I had failed into talking him out of buying the store, and the
move, she made it clear that I was on her shit list.
That fact was going to make her staying with us even more
fun. Things were already tense enough, and now I had an angry, punk rocker
lesbian living down the hall for the next couple of weeks, or at least until
Zack got the store up and running.
I was hoping Beach Reads caught on quick.
“Isn’t it gorgeous? And can you smell that? Clean air!” He
glanced back at me. “Darren, when was the last time you smelled non-polluted,
fresh air?”
“1995?” I shrugged. “My family went to the Hamptons for a
weekend.”
“Come on, lets get this bitch unpacked so we can get to
celebrating your big move.” Margo brushed past me and headed towards the back
of the U-Haul. “And by celebrate, I mean drink heavily.”
She threw open the back of the U-Haul and began carrying in
all of Zack and I’s memories from New York.
All I wanted to do was start packing them back up.
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