Sigh of Relief

Chapter 2

Nila

I approach my front door, struggling to grab my keys from my tote bag with clammy fingers and pretty sure my dress has visible sweat patches after the long walk home. I say I like summer until it actually arrives.

After my last housekeeping job, I'd worked Monday to Friday as a private gym receptionist and being used to sitting around most of the time, I've barely survived my first three days. I wouldn't have considered this type of work if not for the pay and my lack of choice – the building had been shut down for renovations and I couldn't afford to wait.

Anyways, they've just moved in, so the house needs even more cleaning than it should and my whole body is sore from hours of bending and scrubbing. Right now the only thing I'm looking forward to right now is spending the rest of the day in my bed.

At long last, I manage to fish out my keys and get inside. From the sounds of Keeping Up with the Kardashians playing on the TV, I know exactly who's inside. I toe my shoes off and lean against the frame of the living room door.

"You tired of your new husband already?" I ask, smiling at Caia, who is looking way too comfortable on my couch.

"Yup. I've opened applications again," she manages to say while stuffing her mouth with my popcorn.

I chuckle, shaking my head as I plop myself down next to her and sink into the couch.

"Long day?" Caia asks, pausing the TV to turn to me.

I pick up the remote to continue the show. "Yeah. Pay is worth it though."

It's undoubtedly going to help with bills, groceries and getting more money into my savings and the accounts I opened for my siblings. There's been a few times where I struggled to afford these things, but it was comforting to know that at least we wouldn't lose the roof over our heads.

I was shocked when I found out my father decided to pass our childhood home to me instead of my mother, but his reasons for that became clear not long after he died.

And Caia's no stranger to hard work, but sometimes I'm amazed at how we ended up being best friends when our lives are so different. I'm a 23-year-old with no college degree, trying to support a little family of three with two jobs. And doing that alone feels close to impossible. Caia's a 25-year-old English teacher and already a member of SLT at her high school, married to Nahum who is a software engineer. Together, they probably bring in five times what I do.

"Poor thing," she says as she drags my legs onto her lap, "I'll be here to rub your feet."

"Nahum's gonna blame me for how little you're at home," I huff.

"That man knows what he signed up for. He's on his way with pizza."

I reach into my bag to grab the deck of cards I carry everywhere – an Alice of Wonderland set my dad got me as a kid – and start shuffling. Me and Caia have a long-standing rivalry when it comes to Old Maid and it's one of the few times I let my potty mouth run loose.

"Before we start," she beamed, "I actually came by to drop off something."

Caia reaches into a white paper bag sitting on the floor and pulls out a light green crochet tank top with halter straps that tie at the back.

"Well damn. If you weren't already married, I'd be proposing right now," I gush as I turn the piece over in my hands. I'm happy to feed her ego if it means more clothes like this.

She bats her eyelashes. "You're welcome. I made one for Tamara as well, but I haven't seen her since I got here."

Translation: she's in a mood and would rather poke out her own eyeballs than have a conversation.