Cost of Living

Whoever gave them rich-sounding car names in the Bealy family was a fool.

Middle sister, Alexus, shook her head as she stared at the paperwork to do the tax return for her baby sister, Mercedes. The papers piled on her modest home office desk from the night before mocked her by the aging computer. Did they even make this brand anymore?

They were not rich.

Nope, correction: She and Mercedes were not rich.

Oldest sister, Porsha, was close to rich after marrying a guy with his hands in finance as a stock broker. Their home in Queen’s Harbor and three cars proved it.

Alexus’ husband was in finance too with her, but they didn’t deal million dollar deals and billion dollar accounts. They handled basic CPA duties and helped people, mostly single mommas, get the maximum (legal) amount of money during income tax season. .

Alexus and her husband, Martin, stayed in a modest community with HOAs and a noisy neighbor aptly named Karen Looks.

Mercedes had a house in a place that featured crime of the week each time the local nightly news came on.

Alexus groaned. She did not want to do taxes this year, especially baby sister’s taxes.

Mercedes had gotten especially demanding.

Two kids and one of the way had her baby sister hustling. It had her brother-in-law, Aston, especially hustling. For Alexus, that meant hustling to get a slap to the face by her. Or Martin.

If that man came up with another pyramid scheme, LLC scam or “look what fell off the truck...

Her cell phone began to sing. “Hello?”

“Hey sis!”

“No, your refund is not back.”

“That’s not why I...okay, that is totally why I called, but I still love you.”

“Then, what can I help you with?”

“Found another way to claim the baby.”

“Mer, you can’t claim the baby until the baby comes out.”

“Yeah, but-”

“We’re getting to borderline fraud here, Mer. I would like not to go to jail. Who's gonna watch Richie if I’m locked up?”

“Umm, Martin?”

Alexus hung up on her and placed her cell on IGNORE mode. Thanks for the concern for your nephew. She dropped her head to her desk.

“Tired?” A rich baritone intoned in her ear.

“Of family.”

Alexis heard the chuckling. "We can end the friends and family discount."

Martin was a darker skinned guy with what people called a "dad bod." To her, however, he was the perfect formula. Like good coffee in her coffee pot she brewed daily, he was warm and inviting. He stood in the doorway with a small black notebook in his hand.

She looked up. "Mer called trying to tell me a new way to defraud the government when I'm already working every tax credit I know for her."

"And Ash?"

"Who knows what new marketing scheme has won him over."

Martin came, dropped the notebook on the desk and proceeded to rub her back. "What do you need, baby?"

"Five thousand dollars for a cash car and for you to pretend to be a stripper named Delicious."

Her husband's laughter made her feel slightly better. "That'll be a lot of one dollar bills."

"Well, at least let’s pretend after Richie goes to bed."

He leaned down toward her ear and whispered. "I'll throw on the music and be your private dancer like Tina said."

She raised her head to gaze at her husband. "I love you, including inappropriate you."

"Hey, gotta be romantic with a three year old any way possible." He smiled down at her.

"Being romantic got us the three year old, Delicious." She picked up a pencil and pointed it at him.

"Perfect Venn Diagram." He teased then took a seat in the empty chair next to her. "We'll get another car."

"That accident-" it was one of the scariest phone calls she had gotten earlier this year.

"I'm not paralyzed so thank God for that."

"It's been six months."

"And we took a loss, but finally got our credit sorted out. We don't need to finance anything, especially when one of us may go back to an actual office."

"No, no, that will be in at least three more years. Daycare will sink us."

"I know." He sighed.

"We have enough clients to survive."

"But, to thrive?" Martin asked very intently.

Alexus sighed. "Move into Merry Lane, they said...the subdivision will be great, they said."

"It is. If we can get the old lady to move."

"Oh gosh… did she measure our trash from the curb again?"

"Nope." Martin rolled his eyes. "Our grass is too high."

"You cut it last weekend."

"Exactly. She is a self-appointed botanist too."

"Maybe we can get Ash's crew to do us a trade. Free payroll for cuts?"

"Two Lawn Crew? They do good work, but they want the Deerwoods and Kernan Dast type places. Merry Lane is a low ball to them."

"Have we asked?" She folded her arms.

"No, but we also have created our perfectly balanced budget with the right amount of cushion."

"Crud." She threw her pencil.

"Lex, don't sweat it. I can still work virtually and we can still trade off on watching Richie. The mom groups around here do help."

"Think Porsha will help me?"

"Think walking in traffic will keep you alive?"

Alexus sighed. "She will make me regret it every minute of it."

"If you ever had to borrow money from Porsha or wrestle a lion, stretch for the lion." He said, making a sketching motion.

"She is my sister."

"Yeah, the one that makes you feel like it's a federal crime to sit on her good furniture." He snorted. "Like we don't recognize knockoff Ashley Furniture. Imported my big toe."

"I know it's not fun with kids running around your house and you have none."

"Broker Boy counts. Except his toys require full coverage."

She looked at the desk and remembered the notebook he bought. "What’s that?"

Martin looked down and smiled. "Oh, oh yeah. This little black notebook was your Uncle Charles' notebook. Your aunt Essa Mae wanted us to go by his house and see if there is anything left before his outside kids come take it all away."

"My uncle had an interesting life to say the least." She thought of the old flirtatious man who died a three time married man and ex-WWII local war hero who hated banks, yet loved big screen TVs.

"Your uncle should have practiced keeping it wrapped up and not chasing women." Martin shook his head. "We'll drop Richie off with my Mama then go to the house before we have a good lunch. The fancy new sushi place has a lunch special." He sang to her in a happy voice.

"True." She nodded. “Besides, this isn’t getting done today. I might as well save my work.”

"We can take one Friday off, Lex."

"You're right." She leaned over and kissed her husband on the lips. "Maybe we can be romantic before picking Richie up."

"I love you, especially inappropriate you, Lex."

Alexus watched her husband fight with the old lock on the colonial style home. "Old man who buys a new cell phone every upgrade, but wouldn't fix a lock."

"The young honey dips were important." She shrugged.

With a football type shove, Martin managed to get the front door opened.

A stale stench hit them.

"Babe, he's not in the house still right?"

"Hah-hah. You were at the funeral too, Martin."

"Just saying."

The young couple made their way around the home of the later Sergeant Charles Stanley Williams. Alexus saw that her uncle lived like a bachelor until the day he died.

"Where was my aunt in all this?" Alexus asked as she took in the mismatched furniture, huge TV and mix of electronics in various states of repair.

"Which one? The one he left, the one who left him or the young one he left all the money too? Haven't gotten to the mistresses yet."

"Martin, don't speak ill of the dead."

"Yeah, let him be the one in Heaven trying to finesse God." Martin grinned. "What was in his little black notebook?"

"Phone numbers, but I think he wrote down the combination to a lock, like he had a safe."

"Your aunt said he was packing."

"Packing what?" Alexus demanded.

Martin laughed.

"Keep it cute."

"Hey, I was the one nephew-in-law who didn't jump into the funeral melee of wife one and wife three."

"Is that the safe?" Alexus pointed to a nightstand size piece of solid black metal.

"Yep. Under the underwear drawer as predicted." Martin kneeled down and started trying the numbers...to no avail. "Aww man! This isn't the code."

Alexus grabbed the black notebook and turned pages.

"Babe, is it his birthday?"

"Not his. He was born in May. The numbers are 0-1-5."

"Wife's birthday?"

Alexus made a face.

"Ok, ok, I won't even suggest children…"

"It's his momma! Granny Bell's birthday." She exclaimed. "January 5th."

Marin paused then started the combo anew until the heavy safe opened...right along with her husband’s jaw.

"Martin?" Concern crept up Alexus's face. "Babe, what is wrong?"

"Money."

"Huh?"

Martin moved to the side and pointed. "I think I just counted twenty grand here."

Alexus kneeled down. "What?"

Stacks of money in bands of hundred dollars bills like green towers rose.

Her uncle died with stacks of money shoved into a cutout in his dresser.

Back in their SUV, both she and Martin sat frozen in their seats.

"Lex, are we moving weight?"

Alexus stared at her husband. They had managed to shake their shock and find an old gym back to stuff the money in and get back to the car.

"No-what?" Alexus shook herself. "Stop watching low budget drug dealer movies."

Martin exhaled. "This is surreal."

Alexus held up a hand. "Okay, let's use logic here: My uncle left us, the three girls, the house, since we are his baby sister's kids. It was in his will. Plus, all of his kids are fighting and he left them out of it."

"Okay."

"The will is legal and no one in the family wanted his house."

"Points were made."

"Porsha and Mercedes both said we can do as we wanted."

"They did." Martin held up a finger.

"House is paid off, will is a done deal so the money is ours. Legal and clear."

"Yes, yes, it is."

Martin looked at her and they both squealed in delight. "We're rich!"

She squeezed her husband tight. "Martin, we can get another car already paid off."

"We can take Richie to Legoland."

"We can fix that leak."

"We can open another account and build our rainy day fund."

"..we who?"

The couple froze mid-hug. Who was talking?

"...who got rich?"

They pulled away and started down.

Alexus's phone had dialed her baby sister.

Alexus prayed her sister would take the butterfly excuse and run with it.

But, as evident with both Mercedes and Ash darkening the door of her home, Mercedes wouldn't let any stone remain unturned. Especially one about money.

"Hey sis!" Her sister bounced at the door, her bosom moving as excitedly as her.

Aston needed to turn that goofy smile down.

Alexus knew that fakey fake high pitch tone meant something worse to follow. "You didn't have to drive here, so just admit you were noisy and drove here because of our conversation."

"Ok, fine-" Mercedes' hair was blonde and coiled and dyed to Hell and back.

Ashton had chosen this day to wear a t-shirt with something ridiculous like SHE’S THE BOSS emblazoned on it. "Whose rich?"

Mercedes slapped Aston's arm. “Be subtle!”

“Not when I slam the door in their faces.” Martin grumbled from his place behind as he stood guard behind her.

“Mer, you still don’t want Uncle Charles’ house, right?”

“No, that’s a present with strings.”

“K, bye, thanks.” Alexus pushed both of them out of the door and closed it.