He's as blind as he can be,
Just sees what he wants to see,
Nowhere Man can you see me at all?

By the following week, things were still tense. Not unbearable, but Phee was quiet. Where she would normally babble about work or Cass or friends or wonder aloud about her applications, she kept to herself, only talking and joking about surface things—TV shows and what not.  She was back to smoking several cigarettes a day—a habit JC wasn’t fond of but far be it for him to tell her what to do.

It was Wednesday. He had been working alone all morning, applying a nice, even coat of construction white in the nearly complete shopping center. Once the walls were painted, the carpet company could come in and start laying down pads and carpeting. JC felt he was an integral part of the process. Not to mention the labor, not having to stay on the move and basically walk from one end of town to the other, and being able to eat steady meals was filling him out and building him up. Phee was just saying the other day how his biceps were becoming more defined and how he was changing every day, it seemed—he had more stamina and his chest had taken on a shape and he had developed a faint six pack. He was still thin, but was more solid than skin and bones, these days.

Jeff came to grab him for lunch, since the whistle couldn’t be heard from where they were working.

“Let me ask you something,” the shorter, older man said as they walked together to the other end of the site. “You uh… you think you might be interested in something full time?”

JC pondered the question. Oddly, he hadn’t thought about it. He sort of liked the freedom and the choice to not show up on the corner if he really didn’t want to. Not that he’d never shown up on a day when he was asked to work, but the option was always there. Going back to full time employment meant giving up a certain amount of freedom that he’d come to enjoy. And, Jeff had said it himself. He was a desk job kind of guy. At least, he used to be.

“What did you have in mind?” JC asked, just to keep the conversation going and his options open. Jeff went on to explain the base rate for entry level construction was $5 per hour over what he was making as a day labor employee. Add in benefits and almost guaranteed overtime since they were always backed up and he’d be making hand over fist, not doing much more than he was already doing. Added to the stack was a learned trade that he could always fall back on in hard times.

“I saw you out there that first day and I thought there’s a kid who’s ready to work. He’s hungry and he’s willing. I liked that. You’ve never let me down, and you’ve had a lot of opportunities. I’m not offering jobs to all the guys we pick up on the corner. Just so you know. I pick and choose based on who I like. I like you.”

JC nodded, grateful for the compliments. And shy about them, too. “I like the work. I could use the money. I’m just not sure if full time construction is where I want to go. I mean, I’m kind of still putting my life together, you know? And—“

Over the past few weeks of working together, Jeff had managed to squeeze JC’s story out of him.  Jeff subscribed to the Phoenix School of Thought: It was a mistake. Learn from it. Get over it. JC wasn’t so sure. “I get it. I get it, kid. But you know… you don’t want to regret not taking a good job because you feel like you need to pay penance for a mistake you made.”

JC nodded again, nervously scratching at the paint flecks on his jeans. “I’ll think about it. Can I let you know? I mean, can I keep working for a little while, make sure I really want to do it?”

Jeff nodded. “No problem,” he said, but held up a finger in JC’s face. “Don’t take forever, though. If I have an opening I have to fill with someone else, I need to know.”

“Yes sir.” JC veered away from Jeff to the lunch line, dug out his lunch ticket and piled his plate with a ham and Swiss sandwich, fresh cut fruit, a bag of chips and a Pepsi. He wandered off with his plate to sit and eat and think.

Full time. $15 an hour. Benefits—no more worrying about getting sick. A guaranteed paycheck every two weeks. It sounded like a poor man’s dream on the outside. Something about it nibbled at him inside, though. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

He didn’t tell Phee about the offer. He wanted time to think about it and contemplate his choice with a clear head. She would fill his mind with what he had to do and how good of an opportunity it was and talk him into taking the job, even if that wasn’t really what he wanted. And he wasn’t sure that was what he wanted.

“What’s wrong with you?” Phee asked, that Saturday night. He’d had a haircut and Phee wanted to do a little shopping. She was now the proud owner of a DVD player and several DVD’s.  They ordered Chinese, hooked up the DVD player and put in a movie.

“Nothing. I keep forgetting that you lived on the street for 6 years. You haven’t seen Rush Hour and that’s like… amazing to me.”

She unpacked the cartons of stir fried chicken and vegetables, chow mein, white rice and honey chicken and set them out on the floor, got up and grabbed two forks from a box and sat back down in front of the TV. 

“Why is it so amazing to you? I don’t remember it being hailed as a cultural institution or anything. Did it give people ideas for solving world peace? Did it ease relations between North and South Korea? Or wait… it’s Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker, right? Relations between the blacks and the Chinese?”

JC laughed so hard he almost choked on a mouthful of noodles. “You are wrong for that, Phoenix. Just wrong.”

“Quit calling me that. You’re the only person that calls me Phee. Call me that.”

He eyed her over the carton of vegetables. They didn’t even use plates, just forks, and passed the containers back and forth. JC insisted that this was the real way to eat Chinese food. 

“Okay. Phee. Phee Phee?” She glared. “No? Okay. So, I guess you’re not mad at me anymore?”

She shrugged, digging into the Chow Mein JC had just passed her. “I wasn’t really mad. I just worry about you.”

“You worry about everyone.”

“Yeah. But I have a different worry about you. I just…” She sighed, shoveled a forkful of food into her mouth and then uttered a muffled, “Whatever.”

“You can say it. I have potential for more but I won’t go for it and that’s pissing you off.”

She nodded while she chewed, then swallowed and said, “Yeah. That.”

“Was that something you fought with Davey about?”

Phee paused, sticking the tines of the fork in her mouth. Then nodded. “I finally got him to think about getting off the street. Seeing a Social Worker to find out if he could get work, maybe go to school. We were going to go to the office together the day after…”

JC ate and contemplated and then ate some more, his attention returning to the movie. “Now watch this part, it’s hilarious,” he said, pointing toward the screen and inadvertently changing the subject.

In the back of his mind, the wheels were churning. He’d give it another week and if things still seemed okay, he would take the job with Jefferson. He wished he could feel happy and settled about it, but it was like Phee said… there was no in-between. Either you had a ton of responsibility and wished you had none, or you had no responsibility and were held prisoner by the smallest of tasks, like finding food to eat and a place to get out of the rain. 

***

A week later, first thing Monday morning, JC found Jeff and asked to speak with him.

“Is this about what I think it’s about?”

“Yes sir,” said JC.

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder, then gripped him and shook him hard. “This is a good opportunity, son. Congratulations on moving forward with your life.”

JC smiled, mostly because Jeff seemed so happy about his decision. The more he’d thought about it, the more he had come to accept that this was something he had to do, and the better he felt about it. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m feeling okay about it.”

“It’s an adjustment, I’m sure. You’ll do fine. So, you’ll continue working as day labor until you’re an official employee. On your day off, go on up to the Corporate Office and fill out your paperwork. Easy as nailing a two by four.” Jeff grinned at his construction joke.

JC laughed, and joked back, “Or painting a wall.”

“That’s the spirit. Now get back to work. You’re costing me money.”

By the time the truck dropped him back at the corner, the decision had settled so much within him that he was excited about it. In a few days, he wouldn’t be picked up at the corner anymore, because he wasn’t a day laborer anymore. He would have to find his own way to work and pay for his own lunch, but that was a small price to pay for steady employment and benefits.

He rushed to the room and showered and changed. He waited for Phee to get off work and get home. Maybe they would go out that night and he’d break the news to her over a nice dinner. She would be proud. Maybe she would even cry. Nah, she wouldn’t cry. But she’d be excited. He couldn’t wait to see her face when he told her he’d finally done something right.

Phee was late, by at least an hour. He hadn’t been paying attention, but the sun was setting and she wasn’t home yet. He got up from the mattress where he’d been laying down and watching a movie and peeked through the curtains to see if he saw her coming from the bus stop.

A car pulled up. It was shiny and black and fancy and did not, by any stretch of the imagination, belong in the neighborhood. The person driving had to either be lost or looking for someone they knew… maybe they were looking for the guy who lived upstairs at the end of the hall and sold weed. Both doors opened and, to JC’s surprise, Phee got out of the passenger side. She was wearing her uniform and had her trusty bag with her and was carrying a large envelope. The woman that got out of the driver’s side could only be Phee’s mother. They looked nearly identical, except for the older woman looked… well… older.

They were talking, but JC couldn’t hear what they were saying until they got close to the door.

“Really, mom. You don’t have to come in. I’m sure it’s not clean and it’s real small. And you’ll just get all snooty about it.”

“I just want to see where my daughter is living, Phoenix. Can’t I at least see it?”

“Well… JC is in there, I’m pretty sure. I don’t know if he’s uhm… decent.”

Her mother blanched and reached for a necklace that dangled from her neck. “Is he the… dangerous type? Should I take off my rings, and such?”

JC almost laughed out loud. He could hear Phee’s eye roll from inside the house.

“If you’re going to act ridiculous, you can just go home. He’s not a thief.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be good.” Phee stood there, unmoving. “Promise,” the older woman said. Finally, Phee inched toward the door and held up her hand.

“One second. Let me… let me just check on him, okay?”

Her mother sighed and stepped aside. Phee opened the door and quickly shut it behind her.  JC was waiting there for her.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “She picked me up at the hotel and wouldn’t leave unless I let her bring me home.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. It’s okay. Just… don’t take her seriously. Like, at all.” JC nodded and she reached for the knob. 

Her mother, dressed in a nice jacket with a blouse underneath, a skirt and expensive heels, tentatively stepped into the room. She tiptoed around, looking at the system of baskets on and under the desk, frowning at the mattress on the floor, rearing back at the makeshift kitchen.

“How… err… cozy,” she said, moving into a corner and then standing there. The room was just barely big enough for one. Three was pushing it. “I’m Susan,” she said to JC, offering him her hand. She shook his, limply, and pulled back, surreptitiously wiping her hand on her thigh and clutching the straps of her handbag.

JC didn’t like her much at all. Phee seemed to hold the same sentiment.

“So, you’ve seen it. This is where I live. With my uhm. Boyfriend.”  His head whipped around to Phee at the mention of boyfriend. Obviously they were together, but they hadn’t put a label on it as of yet.

“Yes. Well.” She sniffed, looked around, and then sniffed again. What was she sniffing at? “Do… errr… let your father and I know your decision. The offer stands.”

“Yeah, sure,” Phee said, opening the door and ushering her mother out the door and toward her late model Mercedes. “You should probably go. This isn’t a safe neighborhood for the car. Bye, now!”

Phee closed the door before her mother could wave goodbye. Moments later, he heard the car start and pull away.

“What was that about?”

Phee rolled her eyes, exhaling a long breath. She stripped off her clothes right where she stood. “That’s classic Susan Gredvig, right there. Isn’t she stuck up? How did I come from her?”

“It’s probably your name,” JC said, teasing. She didn’t seem to catch the joke. “Hey, put something on. Let’s go eat. I have something to tell you.”

Phee froze in place, in her underwear, in the middle of the room. “Uhm. Me too. But do you mind if we just stay here? My mother wears me out.”

JC shrugged, slightly disappointed. He’d wanted to make a big deal out of it, but he wasn’t about to drag her out if she didn’t want to go. “If you want.”

She glanced up from digging through her baskets, noting the change in his voice. “I’m sorry. You seem excited about something and I’m screwing things up. What did you want to tell me?”

“Well…” He paused for a beat or two, simply for dramatic effect, which made Phee flick her eyes up to him and scowl. “I got offered full time at Jefferson. I have to go do my paperwork on Thursday. As of Friday I’m official.”

“Really. Wow.” Okay. That wasn’t quite the response he had been hoping for, but she was tired.

“Yeah,” he continued. “I’ll get more money and benefits and probably overtime.”

“Yeah, probably…”

“And I was thinking… once I get my first full paycheck, we could maybe get a bigger place together. I don’t know if you’re ready for that or not, and I don’t want to push you into anything, and I’m not saying I’m not happy here with you because I am, it’s just that—“

“JC.”

He stopped talking and looked at her. Really looked at her. She was pale, with dark circles under her eyes. Her nose was red and so were her eyes. She didn’t look tired…she’d been crying.

“Phee… what? What’s wrong? Why do you look so…bad?”

“Thanks, JC.”

“Sorry. That was a bad choice of words. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, picking out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts and slipping them on. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. I’m happy for you. I’m really happy for you.”

She stepped over to him and drew her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Something is wrong. Tell me what it is. What did your mom mean by your decision? What decision? Did they ask you to come home again?”

“Nothing. She didn’t mean anything.” Her voice was muffled up against his chest. Her arms tightened around him. This Phee was not the Phee he was used to. He lifted his head, glancing around the room. There was nowhere to go, really. He was stuck standing there in the middle of the room with Phee clinging to him for all she was worth.

His eye caught the envelope in a passing glance, and then a more pointed stare. It was large and kind of thick. The admissions applications! Maybe one of them had come back. Had she been rejected?

Well then, she would need some comfort.

“What’s in the envelope? Is that what’s making you sad?”

“Just some stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“College stuff.”

“A rejection?” She shook her head. “No? Not a rejection? Then why do you look like you’ve been crying?”

Phee didn’t move or answer for a few moments and then pulled away, grabbed the envelope and showed it to him. The return address read Columbia University.

JC’s eyes were big and around as he reached for the envelope. “Columbia? This is…” He felt it, measured the heft of the envelope. If she’d been rejected, it would be small and thin. This was large and thick. “You got into Columbia?”

She nodded, then moped over to the mattress and plopped down in her usual spot.

“But… I don’t get it. Why aren’t you happy?”

“I am,” she said quietly. “I never thought I would get in. My mother brought me the envelope. They mistakenly sent it to their house. She had opened it and she was all excited and making plans for me and everything. I didn’t even get to be excited about it first.”

“But now… are you proud? Excited? Sad?”

“All of the above.”

“Okay. Let’s talk about the sad part.”

“Well…” She shrugged, and then slowly lifted her head until her eyes met his. “The idea of staying here and having an apartment with you sounds amazing. And if I leave and go to New York, who will make sure Jamal stays in his classes at the Community College and Cass keeps herself on the right side of DFCS, and you—“

“We,” JC interrupted, “Are all grown up people. You remember when we talked about dreams and goals and stuff? 7years ago, you gave up the idea of going to school to follow Davey around.  How he let you do that, I don’t know. But I’m not Davey and I’m not letting you give that up again to follow me around. You’re going to Columbia.”

“But—“

“But nothing. You’ve been taking care of everyone for so long, Phee. You get to take care of you, now. And you can always come back and visit. I’ll take over this place and you’ll always have somewhere to come home to.”

“I thought you were getting an apartment?”

He shook his head, trying hard to hide the disappointment. He’d almost been day dreaming about a cute little space for them. “There I go, dreaming again. So your mom is excited?”

She nodded, leaning against him, her cheek on his bicep. “Way. More than I am. She said they’ll pay for it, if I go. And they’ll give me the car.”

“What’s wrong with all of that?”

“It feels like a bribe.”

He tipped his head back and had a hearty laugh at her expense. Eventually she joined in. After they stopped laughing, JC asked, in his most serious tone, “Do you want to go to Columbia?”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“Then go to Columbia. However you have to do it, just go.”

“What about you?”

He sighed. Yeah. What about him?

“Don’t worry about me, Phee Phee. I’ll be okay.”