Page 28 of Penny
Emily scoffed and shook her head slowly.
“Do you mean lunch?” I retorted, hiding my laugh.
“I think we can call it brunch,” Emily affirmed, nudging my leg with her foot. She hated when I pushed Connor’s buttons, but what were brothers for if it weren’t for button-pushing?
“Call it whatever you want. Emily, I got some clothes delivered for you. They are on the doorstep. Be a doll, Liam, and carry them up for her to get ready.”
***
We pulled into the valet for Connor’s favorite breakfast restaurant. It was two blocks from the Hudson River, and he said it had the best Eggs Benedict. We stepped out of the truck, and Emily cautiously looked around. I intertwined my arm with hers, making sure she didn’t try to make a run for it. The house was at peace, and I didn’t want to deal with her getting in trouble for trying to run off.
She looked at me with panic flooding her eyes. Our connection was severed before I got a good read. She looked back to the alley next to the restaurant at a brown-haired homeless woman inspecting the dumpster. She pulled me in her direction, and I let it happen, wanting to know what she planned to do.
The homeless woman jumped when she turned around, and her blue eyes with flecks of green widened. She put her hands defensively up and pressed her back against the black dumpster.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” Emily cooed, putting her own hands up. “The owners here put bleach in their garbage. It isn’t safe.” She frowned, already starting to retreat from her.
The girl looked at the dumpster and then at us in disbelief. Emily’s shoulders slumped, and the crook of her lips fell. Choosing to believe in her, I pulled my wallet from my pocket and grabbed a few twenties. I laid the money on the ground and turned around to leave the girl to do as she pleased. Connor stood at the end of the alley, scowling at both of us.
“You know that’s going to go to drugs, right?” he muttered, shooting a glare at the alley.
“Not every homeless person does drugs, you know that, right?” Emily snapped, pulling me past Connor to get to the restaurant's entrance.
“Yeah, I would say ninety-nine percent of them do,” he grumbled behind us as we entered the elevator that took us up to the nineteenth floor, where the restaurant was. Rooftops had always been his favorite.
Our food was placed on the table, and Emily looked at her plate, laughing.
“What’s funny?” Connor asked, furrowing his brows.
“That they are serving it on a cutting board. Did they run out of plates, or do they really think this is better than using an actual plate?” She didn’t hide her cynical laugh, and Connor couldn’t help but join in with her. “These types of places try way too hard to be trendy,” she added, digging into her food.
It was silent as we ate, and the cool October breeze blew in with the open-style layout. I watched as Connor kept looking up at Emily while he ate and snapped at the waiter when her coffee or water was empty.
“How long were you homeless before Connor picked you up?” I asked, broaching a subject that I knew may upset her.
“Hm, I think eight months, but I didn’t know that until Connor took me and I saw a calendar. I had to stop checking the paper stands because the owners always thought I was going to steal one or that I didn’t deserve to even look.” She shrugged, shoveling another bite of food into her mouth.
“Did you steal the newspapers?” Connor chimed in, smirking.
“I thought about it, because if I got caught, I would at least go to jail for a moment, and I heard the showers were always good there.”
“You’ve never been…?” I tilted my head in disbelief at that.
“No, I always wanted to make sure once I was off the streets, I wouldn’t have a record,” she confessed, looking up from her meal.
“What would you have done if you ever got off the streets?” Connor questioned, pausing his endless shoveling of food into his mouth. He ordered two Egg Benedicts and steak 'n eggs.
“An RV and a dog, away from everyone,” she answered, letting out a small huff of air and shifting her attention back to her food.
“What?” Connor snapped and shifted forward. “That is still homeless. How are you going to shower every day?” he demanded, forgetting about his food.
She refused to look at him and continued to eat as if he didn’t exist. Knowing that would aggravate him, I kicked her foot under the table, needing her to have a little self-perseverance here and not wanting to ruin our meal. Her lip curled for a split second until she beamed at him with a mischievous gleam.
“Oh, you are right. I guess that was silly of me to think living a life that is not in line with the general consensus could bring me happiness. Doesn’t matter anyway, as I’ll be fucking God-knows-who in a few months,” she retorted, slamming her fork into her veggie omelet. She beamed at Connor with a fake smile, making me want to leave the restaurant before a shit show happened.
“Why did you want to live where no one else is?” I asked, trying to grab her attention.
She cast her gaze over at me, hatred still marring her forehead. War raged in her features as she tried to contemplate how to tell her story, making me curious if she would confess the truth or lie.
