Which one of us is actually living?
— Claire Jenkins
My new plan was a huge success in Miami. I texted Claire to celebrate.
"Cantaloupe? Tequila?"
We hadn't spoken since she stormed out of the house a few months ago. I was worried she might not reply. Was she still pissed?
She called a few minutes later.
"Claire! Hi!"
"Hey, Shay. I haven't heard from you. I was starting to wonder."
"Yeah, I've been busy."
"Oh?"
"I'm ramping up to bigger things. Right now, I'm in Miami."
"Miami?"
"Yeah, remember when we were in Chicago? I showed you my valet parking idea."
"That's the new scam?"
She made it sound so dirty, as if she didn't have dirt on her hands too.
"It's the new thing," I said. "Different cities, in and out like a surgical strike. It works. So what's new with you?"
"Me? Well... I've got a real job now."
"You what?!? You've gone straight?"
"It's nothing big. I'm pouring drinks at The Bitter End. I figured I needed to start bringing in some legit income. The Bitter's great because it's busy, so it's easy to feel anonymous, not that I need to. I'm renting a place with a backyard now, too. I'm turning it into a garden."
"Wow, you really have gone straight."
"I'm playing the long game, Shay. The real long game."
"What's that?"
"Live free or die, remember? There's a reason the first word is live. You're trying to build a fortune. I'm trying to build a life. Which one of us is actually living, Shay?"
"Huh."
"So, here's my new thing. It's gonna sound lame, but, remember Elliot? One of the marks that turned out to be a bagel?"
"Yeah?"
"I started going to his writers' group again. I figured there's no harm in it since he didn't have any Bitcoin to steal. He was just a guy, y'know? Obviously, I'll never tell him why I met him. But yeah, I've been doing some creative writing."
"What do you write about?"
"I'm working on a story about an urban outreach and assessment analyst. Y'know, from the phony backstory stuff we used to make up. I'm writing that, but for real."
"It doesn't sound very interesting, Claire."
"It's actually about somebody who helps get a working girl off the street."
"So, it's about me? Hahahahaa!!!"
"You wish! It's about making a fresh start, I guess. I don't know how it ends yet, but I'm working on it."
"Sounds like it needs work."
"Sure, but that's half the fun. Oh, I've got another one you'll probably like! I wrote a short story about a woman pretending to be somebody she's not so she can marry a guy for his money."
"Is that your next plan?"
"Hell no. I thought of that for you. Sort of. I thought, 'What if Shay found a whale of a whale, but she couldn't rob him the easy way. How would she do it?' The answer seemed obvious."
"You're saying I'd marry him, so I could divorce him and take half?"
"No. You'd take it all."
"How would I get it though?"
"Let's say you found a whale. Or maybe a whale found you. Trick him into making you part of his life. Maybe even live together. Stroke his ego so he'd teach you everything he knows as he boasts about how brilliant he is. Get him to teach you how to steal his Bitcoin. Then, you take it all and move on, to a new city with a new name."
"I'm never gonna get a whale that way, Claire. I'm not built like you. You can have any guy you want. The only guys who even look at me are losers."
"It's not about the body. It's all in the eyes. You need to look at a guy like the two of you have a connection. That's how you reel 'em in. Make him feel like you're his. Make him feel like he matters."
"That's the problem. Before I even meet a guy, I already know he doesn't matter. None of 'em do."
"Oof."
"I just call 'em like I see 'em, Claire."
"Speaking of that... Keep checking in, yeah? Especially now that you're traveling so much. What can I say? I worry. It's good to know you're OK."
"I will!"
I smiled as I hung up the phone.
I told Claire I'm not built like her, but I wasn't just talking about her body. I'm smarter than her, but she's got heart.
I was starting to forget I had one.
Huh.