He shut off his car as soon as he pulled up in front of the trailer. The sudden quiet, though welcome, made me uncomfortable. I placed my hand on the door handle.

"Could we talk for a minute?" His sexy voice had dipped to an even lower tone. Shivers ran across my skin.

"Talking won't change anything."

"This talk might." He sounded so sure of himself.

I turned to face him. "Look, Reed, I'm not going to be your girlfriend. I don't need rides home or your jackets." I was such a liar. I never wanted to give up the jacket enveloping me in warmth and his scent. I wanted to roll in his smell, coating my body with Reed Tyler.

"I'd like you to work for me."

Well that made me laugh. "Doing what? Your laundry, cleaning?"

"Don't you think it's a better gig than Tasty Burger?"

I'd said my last words as a joke, but, God, he was serious. "I am not going to be your maid. The idea is ridiculous."

"Just hear me out."

"No." Why did he always bring my pride to the forefront?

"I have an apartment over the garage. It has two bedrooms. Jon could sleep inside the main house and you and Bitsy could have separate rooms."

It took my brain about five seconds to put two and two together. Once I understood, pride was the last thing I felt. A slow, angry buzz built in my brain.

It made perfect sense: baseball player, too much money, an easy lay whenever he had the need. "You want a live-in whore?"

His voice exploded in the car. "You drive me crazy. No, I don't want a live-in whore." He took a deep breath and spoke one decimal softer. "Spring training starts in two weeks. I'll be in Florida. I have a cleaning service that comes in once a week, but there's always something neglected when I'm gone. I need someone to oversee things, let the pest control guy in, make sure the yard is tended by the yard crew. It's honest work. Your sister and brother need this. You can't do it all and I have the means to help. Christ, I would just give you the money, but I don't see you taking it. Instead, you risked your life robbing me and you risked your brother's and sister's lives too."

His words only fueled my anger. "You know nothing about me or my sister and brother. You live in your mansion and think you have the right to butt into my business. Tell me this-did you plan on keeping your hands off me? Are you providing my own room so you can sneak in at night and get a little extra for your money? Is that part of your overall scheme?" Reed Tyler was a creep the same as all the men my mother brought home and that included the three that fathered me and Jon and Bitsy. I threw open the car door and slammed it closed behind me. I ignored the screeching tires and fought back tears. Squaring my shoulders, pushing the internal pain aside, I knocked on the trailer door. The soft crying coming from inside registered at the same time Jon opened the door.

"What's wrong?" I looked past Jon to Bitsy.

"It's-it's-Don Gato." Tears covered her scrunched up face.

My heart broke. She held the mangy old cat in her arms.

"Oh, honey, he was very old. It was his time."

"He'ssss not dead; he's sick and he won't walk."

Now my heart broke even further. Jon closed the door behind me and I walked over to look at Don Gato. He was lifeless, but I could see the slight rise and fall of his chest. I didn't even have money to end his suffering. Life crashed in, but I had to control myself. I angrily wiped a tear from my face.

"You need to go to sleep, Bitsy. You can't stay up holding him all night. It won't make a difference." And I knew it wouldn't. It didn't matter how long I'd held my mother's hand, she died anyway. She'd left me alone to care for my sister and brother. People died. Cats died and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it in my fucked up life.

An hour later, I lay down with Bitsyone arm under her pillow and my other across her small body resting my hand on Don Gato. His small chest continued to rise and fall. I needed him to die by morning. Bitsy didn't need to go through this any longer. I cried quietly so Jon couldn't hear. I'd seen Jon's eyes. He knew the same thing I did.

It sucked to be poor.

***

"He's still alive, Jaycee. Can we take him to the doctor?"

I opened my eyes and saw Bitsy petting Don Gato softly. Couldn't anything go right for once?

"If you go to school, I'll take him to the doctor, honey." It was the worst possible lie I could tell, but I had to.

"You will?"

"Yes, I will. But I don't know if the doctor can do anything."

Her little mouth turned down at the corners and her lips trembled. "Sometimes I think doctors help. Don't you think so, Jaycee?"

No, I didn't think so. "Yes, honey, sometimes they can help."

"Give my bunny money to the doctor so Don Gato will be better, okay?"

Bitsy didn't have a piggy bank, hers was a chipped porcelain bunny bank we'd found at the thrift store for a quarter. It had maybe two dollars in it, but Bitsy had been saving for a long time. Everywhere we went, she searched the ground for pennies. She called it her bunny money.

"Get ready for school and after the bus comes I'll take Don Gato to the doctor." I was the worst person on earth. I should never have lied and given her hope, but I did it anyway.

Bitsy hugged Don Gato goodbye and kissed him on the head.

"Hey, sugar." I put my fist out. Bitsy added her small one on top of mine and we both looked at Jon. He placed his fist on Bitsy's and then I put mine on the top. At the same time, we flattened our hands and whispered, "Shhhhhh." It meant Shumways stick together, have each other's backs, and take on the world. I came up with the goofy tradition while our mother was dying in the hospital and child services brought Jon and Bitsy to visit. Mom lingered for two months and those weekly visits were the only time I saw my siblings.

They were the worst days, and no matter how bad things were, they would never be that bad again. I'd see to it.

I watched Bitsy from the end of the trailer while she waited for the school bus to pick her up. My heart became heavier when the bus pulled away and she gave me a small wave from the window.

"What are you going to do with Don Gato?"

Jon, the realist.

The cat was now laying on a towel on our couch, unmoving, no change good or bad. I'd never killed an animal in my life.

"I'll take care of it, Jon. You need to get to school too."

"I can do it, Jaycee."

He knew. He understood, and that was as sad as lying to Bitsy.

"I've got this, Jon. Go to school."

He looked at me for a long time before picking up his black safety pinned backpack and walking out the door. I sat down on the couch, but I couldn't touch Don Gato. My knees came up and I dropped my head and circled my arms around them. I screamed as loud as I could.

I just needed one fucking thing in our lives to go right.

Only one.