Killing Kate(23)

“I’m glad you and Devin are going to live closer,” Justin says as we merge from Lake Shore Drive onto 55. “If you guys are up for it, my mom says to come by tonight for dinner. I mean, if you’re not too tired.”

“That’s sweet of her,” I say sincerely. “I feel like we should bring something, though, and we really aren’t going to be able to find anything for at least a week. Can we stop and at least grab a bottle of wine to bring over?” And a bottle of Jack Daniels for when we’re done moving, I think to myself.

“She knows you’re moving, Jenna, she just wants to fill your bellies and then subsequently fill your fridge,” Justin says, smiling. “She’ll probably send you home with a microwave to go with the leftovers she’s planning to unload on you if you tell her you haven’t unpacked yours yet.”

“I’m pretty sure Jack’s microwave is still intact,” I say, “Though it’s probably from 1968 and full of radiation or something toxic.” He laughs and I look out the window at the old sights. I haven’t been down 55 in forever. Maybe since I was a teenager. We get off at Cicero and as usual, the homeless guys are out panhandling and some are selling roses that are wilting in the ridiculous heat. “You know what I never understand?” I say, “Why the hell do these guys sell cotton candy when it’s freezing out and socks when it’s 100 degrees?”

Justin shrugs. “No idea. About a month ago I pulled up here at this light and this lady knocks on my window and asks to use my cell phone. She pointed to that same car right over there,” he points to a car parked under the overpass with the hazard lights on, “and tells me that her car broke down and she needs to call Triple A. I said no, of course.”

“Of course,” I agree. I wouldn’t have rolled down my window either. Which might sound rude to someone who doesn’t live in the city, but you never know.

“Anyway,” Justin continues, “Last week here I am again, same spot. Same lady knocks on my window and points to the same car and says the same shit.”

“Of course!” I laugh. “I guess she expected you to believe that she’s been waiting all week for someone to help her.”

“Right,” Justin agrees. “At least they tore those projects down. I’m thinking eventually it might get a little better over here.” We pass by the gaping area where the projects once were and I see what he means. There used to be people all over the place, but now just a random bum or prostitute. Some of the gas stations I used to pull into to pick up a quick pack of smokes are abandoned. The same “four hour nap” motels are still in business, I note, along with fast food places and small quick marts and a barbershop that specializes in “fades and perms”. After Midway Airport, things start to get a little bit better as we head to Oakdale. I see Judy’s restaurant and Marlin’s Pub and feel like I’m back home, although it’s not exactly a heartwarming feeling, but it’s not filled with dread either just yet. We wind down a few streets and get to Central and turn down 99th and then left to Menard. Justin and I pull up to the house and Devin isn’t there yet.

“I’ll give him a call,” I say and pull out my phone and dial Devin. He tells me that he stopped for some fast food and will be at the house with something for us to eat in about five minutes. I relay the information to Justin and I get out of the car and look at what is now my new home. The house is a bungalow, built in the 30’s, with one and a half stories and a full basement. The outside is red brick and well landscaped with bushes that Devin or I will need to learn to maintain. Trees line the street. I notice that there are a few more new constructions in the neighborhood than the last time I was here, which somewhat comforts me. Things aren’t the same as they were.

I was only here once after I finalized the transfer of property tax forms and received the key from Drake’s office, not even from Drake, but from Debbie, his secretary. Upon closer inspection, the house looks worn out, despite the freshly mowed lawn and trimmed bushes. It’s fitting, and kind of how Jack looked at the funeral inside of his casket. Even though I quit my job at Appleseed last week, much to Alicia’s dismay, there was still $50,000 at Devin’s and my disposal which would go toward some renovations in the house. I plan to find a part time job and go to school with the rest of the money. Or at least that’s what Devin is under the impression I’m going to do. I’m not sold on the idea of school just yet, and I’m afraid I might freak out or jump out a window or something in the middle of a lecture. Devin was trying to help me find a job by telling me about local daycares and malls that were looking for help, but I was more inclined to apply at Polekatz, the local strip club. We’d already had an argument over it.