“That’s eleven in boy years.”
We’re quiet for a moment and I scroll through choices on Netflix, settling on a minimalist documentary. The show starts to play. Aunt Karla’s eyes narrow at the TV screen. “Jerzie, what the hell is this?”
“It’s a documentary. About minimalism. I love the concept. I think I wanna be one.”
“When black people have very little, they call us poor. White people do it and they’re called minimalists? Jerzie, don’t watch this. How you get so uptight, niece?”
I playfully punch Aunt Karla on the shoulder. “I am the very antithesis of uptight.”
“See? Nobody your age should say ‘very antithesis.’ Thus proving my point. This seems like a good time to tell you about a little surprise. I have exciting news for you, girl.”
“Oh?” I perk up.
“Yep.” She stands. “Follow me, little niece.”
I follow her through the living room and down the hall to the master suite, where her annoying-as-shit, yuppie-in-training roommate stays. Farrah is her name. She’s in law school and wants to be a prosecuting attorney. All she talks about is politics, and I imagine all she dreams about is putting people in prison.
“Why are we standing in front of Farrah’s room?” I ask.
“Open the door,” Aunt Karla instructs. “Don’t worry. She’s not here.”
I do as instructed, and we both step into the master suite, which is twice as big as the room Aunt Karla sleeps in. The bedding is stripped. The closet door is open, revealing an almost empty space. I turn to Aunt K. “She movin’ out? Cuz that would be the best surprise ever.”
“Not quite. But she is out of town. She left this morning.”
“For how long?” I cross to the large bedroom window and stare out at the balcony. To add to the appeal of Aunt Karla’s place, it’s an end unit, so the master suite has this cool balcony attached. Aunt K has it set up with lights and plants and patio furniture. It’s too bad only Farrah gets to enjoy it.
“She’s on some sort of internship. In Amsterdam. Twelve weeks.” She sits on the edge of the bed. “So we get the place to ourselves this summer.”
“You’re lying.” I grin. “Farrah’s gone all summer?”
She nods.
“Aunt Karla!” I clap my hands excitedly. “This is the best surprise ever!” I feel my sour mood beginning to lift.
“There’s more.” She leans back on the bed now. “Judas gets to stay, too.”
“What?” My brow furrows.
“Yep. He’ll be here tomorrow night. Or the day after. I can’t remember. Your mom and dad are bringing him. He’s gonna help out this summer. Take you to work. Pick you up. Watch you at the house in the evenings when I have to work.”
“Oh my God, Aunt Karla.” I groan. “Judas is my babysitter? I’m too old for that. Why can’t he stay in Jersey? Doesn’t he have a bunch of stuff to do before leaving for college?”
Her phone chimes, and she glances at the caller ID. “It’s your dad calling. Why not ask him?”
She hands me the phone. I press the button to accept the call.
“Hey, Dad,” I say glumly.
“Jerzie?” Dad’s voice booms through the speakers. “Hey, honey. Why you sound so sad? Something happen?”
I look at Aunt Karla. She shrugs.
“Well,” I start, “Aunt Karla told me that Judas was staying here this summer, too, and I think that’s kind of...stupid.”
“Stupid?” Dad replies.
“I’m just sayin’. Why can’t I stay with Aunt Karla by myself? That was the original plan.”
There’s silence from the other end. I imagine he’s taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples the way he does when he’s frustrated.
“You staying by yourself was the original plan when Farrah was gonna be there,” Dad replies. “You should be grateful he wants to help. He should be relaxing before college starts in the fall.”
“I’m grateful, Dad. I am. But let’s be real. I don’t need a babysitter. He doesn’t even know anything about New York City.”
“Neither do you, Jerzie. And how is it gonna work when Karla wants to go out with her friends or on a date? How are you gonna manage being alone in Brooklyn when she has to work late? You’re sixteen years old, and—”
“Seventeen,” I correct him. “I’ll be seventeen this summer. I’ll be an adult in a year. Judas will be dragging me to the financial district to stare at the stock exchange building or taking selfies in front of banks. I’ll be stuck with him.”
“So what’s wrong with that?” Dad asks.
“I don’t wanna spend my summer with Judas!” I’m pacing around the room now. “Can’t I just have this for myself? This one summer. I feel like I’ve earned it. Please, Dad.”
“Jerzie. The only thing you’ve earned is the right to not be kidnapped or killed while alone in New York City.” He’s pissed off. Which is somewhat normal for Dad. When it comes to me and Judas, he’s always mad about something. “Judas is coming. And you will deal with it. And if you’re not grateful, pretend to be.” And just like that, he ends the call.
Damn. I hand the phone back to Aunt Karla. She leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her braids falling over her shoulders. “Sorry, hon.”
“He’s being unreasonable!”
“Don’t hate me, but I think he has a good point.”
“Are you serious?”
“Kinda. Yeah.” She stands. “I can’t take you to Times Square and pick you up every day. It’s too much. Take now, for example. I have to go back in to work for an emergency meeting, and I don’t like the idea of you being here by yourself.”
“You’re leaving? Now?”
“Take-out menus are in the top drawer in the kitchen. Money, too.” She crosses to the closet and yanks out a pile of fresh bedding. “You gonna be okay for a few hours?”
“Yeah. I’ll be cool,” I reply. “I guess.”
She hands me the pile of neatly folded sheets and blankets, squeezes my shoulder, and exits the room.
I take my time making the bed. Pulling the fitted sheet so it’s smooth. Making sure the flat sheet is even on both sides. Fluffing the pillows. When I’m satisfied, I grab my bag off the floor and type in the code on the keypad mounted beside the window. A second later, a soft beep lets me know I’ve successfully deactivated the alarm system. I slide open the window in Aunt Karla’s master suite, climb through, and step onto the balcony.