Page 2 of Saved By the Pitcher

“Guys, stop! Do we have to go through this all the time?” Nadia snapped, though unable to hide her amusement. “I wish you each had a dose of humility to go with your handsome features.”

“Ask her out,” Billy prodded, ignoring Nadia.

“What? I don’t know the first thing about her. She could be taken,” James reasoned.

Billy glanced around the café to see if he could spot the server. “Hmm. I don’t see her. Bet you ten dollars she’s in the ladies’ room primping to make a better impression with you.”

“You don’t have ten dollars to bet,” James rebuked. “If it hadn’t been for the government aid to pay for your trip, you two would never be able to afford to leave your apartment.”

“That’s the truth,” Nadia said. “We might not have had to pay for the trip, but it was also three weeks where neither Billy nor I made money. I’ll be glad to get back to my own server job so I can pay this month’s bills.”

James knew both his brother and Nadia spent most of their spare hours working. Billy tended bar at a busy club while his girlfriend was a diner-counter waitress. Together, they had to earn enough to cover the rent of an East Village walk-up apartment and pay their living expenses. Nadia’s parents were of modest means, and it was with some hardship they were helping her with college expenses. Despite his wealth, Charles Vicksburg was willing to cover only the cost of Billy’s NYU tuition and books as he continued his education to become a veterinarian.

“You could tell Father that you’ve had an epiphany, and you’re joining the Proud Boys or some other white supremacist group.” James laughed. “He’d pay for everything then.”

Nadia rolled her eyes. “A Proud Boy dating a biracial girl? I think there’s a big hole in that plan.”

“Yeah, the big hole being Father,” James sniped.

“I’ll bet Lilah will have all expenses paid for anything she wants when she gets out of high school.” Billy pouted.

Lilah was the last child of Charles Vicksburg, courtesy of third wife Victoria. Unlike his first two marriages, Charles was pleased with the stuffy, proper Victoria Kent-Vicksburg—a woman with an abundance of money, cosmetic surgeries and blood-red lipstick. Lilah was the precocious offspring Charles had always craved—besotted with Daddy, agreeing with his every word and looking down on anyone from another social class. She was eleven. James shuddered to think of the monster she’d be once she hit adulthood.

“Hmm, Lilah the Pariah.” James smiled. “But can we be sure she’s Father’s child? Some speculate she’s the devil’s seed.”

“Same thing,” Nadia added.

The server brought the customers their food, and James admitted to himself that she was making overtures with her eyes and smiles. He grinned at her in return, but looked away quickly enough to discourage a connection.

Once the three were alone, Billy laughed. “Told you.”

“If I ever start flirting like that on my job, please rip out my tampon and use it to wipe up my leaking dignity.” Nadia gagged.

James paused mid-squeeze of the ketchup on his veggie burger. “Um, bad timing for that image, thank you.”

“And why would you be flirting with the customers?” Billy asked.

“Maybe because my boyfriend hogs all the French fries,” she replied, pointing at how he’d dumped the ‘shared’ platter of potatoes next to his hamburger.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, looking down at his plate with embarrassment. “You know you’re welcome to pick food off my plate.”

“And I will,” she responded, taking a napkin to grab a handful of fries and relocate them to her dish.

“So, are you guys still coming to the show tonight?” James asked once their mouths were chewing instead of bickering.

“Of course,” Billy replied upon swallowing. “I told you. We’re bringing Maria. She can’t wait to see you, dude.”

James smiled. Maria was the woman who had helped care for him and Billy when they were being raised in their father’s house. She had been brought illegally to the United States by her husband several years earlier when much of their family had been executed by a Mexican cartel in a case of mistaken identity. Maria’s husband had crossed back to meet with the gang leader, hoping to secure safe passage home, but had ended up losing his head instead. Maria had performed cleaning services in progressively wealthier homes, working the last several years in the residence of Charles Vicksburg. The irony of him employing an illegal immigrant was never lost on James or Billy, considering his campaign slogans about closing the Mexican border to everyone, including asylum-seekers. Nevertheless, James and Billy never called out his hypocrisy for fear he’d fire or deport Maria in response.

“I can’t wait to see her,” Nadia said. “She’s the only one in that Vicksburg house that’s normal.”

“She’s wonderful.” James grinned. “I love that woman.”

Billy chuckled, turning to Nadia. “One of Father’s favorite things to do was to challenge me or James as we started eating dinner. He’d ask about our grades or our political positions on something, and if he didn’t like the answer, he’d tell us we were dismissed from the table. It was his way of sending us to bed without supper.”

James laughed. “What he didn’t know was Maria would sneak food to us, and as kids, we always thought it was better than the fancy shit he made us eat.”

Billy smiled. “It was the only time we ate grilled cheese sandwiches, burgers or chips.”