Sometimes All That Glitters IS Gold

“What. Is. That?” Jenny leaned in for a better look, pulling her hair back to avoid getting it in the plate of fries in front of her.

“Nothing.” Johnny was smiling, but he did not look up at her. Instead, he slid the little black notebook back into the backpack beside him, exchanging it for want he had been looking for, his phone.

“Well, it’s certainly NOT nothing, but okay.” She conceded. Something about the way he had pulled the little notebook partially out and then waited for her to notice it before dropping it back out of sight told her that her brother was up to something.

Jenny let her hair go and picked up the glass of soda. Leaning back into the tall vinyl seat, she pinched the straw and guided it into her overly pursed lips. She narrowed her eyes, taking a long sip as she stared at him.

Johnny ignored her melodramatic display of suspicion, glanced at his phone, and set it down near the condiment rack before he looked back up at her. He picked up the giant burger from his plate and stuffed his mouth with an equally enormous bite, and began chewing and grinning at her.

“Alright, fine.” She conceded as she swirled a fry around in a little puddle of ketchup.

Jenny knew that not unlike herself, her twin could clam-up tight when he wanted to, and while that would make for an enjoyable game for him, it would be a frustrating time for her and not how she wanted to spend their birthday lunch.

“How’s Mad-Max?” She asked, offering to change the subject.

“Great,” he took a swig of his drink to swallow down the remaining mouthful. “He’s finally stopped tearing the place apart when I’m at work.”

“Well, that’s something.” She kidded while already contriving how she could nudge the conversation back around to the notebook.

“What about you?” He asked, “Any luck with the job search?”

“Nope.” She answered him, making sure to put the emphasis on the ‘P’ sound as she swapped the plate of French fries in front of her for the small side of salad.

As much as he supposedly did not want to discuss the notebook, she did not want to discuss the utter disaster that was her life currently. However, she had no backpack to slide that topic conveniently into.

“Are you still moving back home?” He pressed.

“Yep.” Again, the emphasis was on the p, as she flicked a too-large tomato wedge to the side of her plate and speared a nearby crouton.

“When are you moving?” He continued at it.

“Probably the end of the month.” She said, trying to be nonchalant, and wondered how it was that he was so much better at pulling things out of her than she was at getting information from him.

Moving back home wasn’t the issue; instead, it was the absolute destruction of everything she had built over the past three years, her management job, studio apartment, and genuine autonomy, all because of something totally out of her control. That mysterious thing called the economy had tanked. Albeit apparently badly.

“Well—” he started to console her.

“Maybe,” she cut him off, desperate to get out of the emotional territory, “I should just move in with you.”

“Oh, sure,” he willingly took the off-ramp she provided, “You and Max can share the couch.”

“No-no,” She shook her head as she swapped her nearly untouched salad back again for the plate of fries, “you and hairy beast get the couch.”

“Yep,” he said, this time putting his own emphasis on the p, and looked up at the approaching waitress, “and that’s why that’s not happening…”

The waitress arrived smiling and asked, “How are you two doing?” She glanced down at them both, “Is there anything else I can get for either of you?”

Jenny looked at Johnny and shook her head, then smiled appreciatively up at the woman.

“I think we’re good.” He answered her.

The waitress thanked them and placed the check at the table’s edge before turning to leave.

“Alright.” Jenny started, giving him her fiercest look. “Being that it’s my birthday, I think you should let me see what you’re writing in that notebook.”

“Being that it’s MY birthday,” he volleyed, “I think not.”

“What on earth are you hiding?” She accused, happy to be miles away from the topic of her life.

“Me?” He stuffed the last bite of his burger into his mouth and shook his head.

“Mmmhmm,” she murmured as she finished up most of her fries and then placed the plate of remaining salad on top, clearing the space immediately in front of her.

“Okay,” She said, wiping her hands and tossing the napkin onto the pile of plates. “Let’s do this.”

“Let the games begin,” he agreed, clearing up his area and adding to the stack of dishes.

From her bag, she pulled out two still connected glittery-gold lottery cards with the promise of $1,000,000 Golden Riches emblazoned across the top of each one.

She split them apart and held them both up. Johnny reached out for the one in her right hand, and she pulled it back out of his reach.

“Final offer!” She challenged.

“What now?”

“If I win the most,” she began explaining, “I get to see that notebook.”

She handed the card he had initially reached toward out to him.

“Fine.” he agreed as he plucked it from her grasp.

“But if I win—” he began while he was looking over the scratch-card layout.

“Yeah, Yeah.” She interrupted, “I know, I don’t get to see it, and I’ll never mention it again.”

Johnny picked up the clean butter knife and used its serrated edge to unceremoniously scrape off the card’s coating, sending little gray and gold balls all over the table.

She used her thumbnail to clear first the top four numbers and then began uncovering the numbers below, keeping an eye out for any matches as she went along. She worked to keep the card debris in a neat little pile that she planned to collect with a napkin later.

“Woop!”

“How much?” Jenny asked without looking up.

“buck-fifty!”

“What?” She stopped scratching and looked up; she knew that there wasn’t anything lower than five-dollars on these cards.

“Look!” he said, pointing out the winning seventy-five dollar amount with a times-two multiplier. “One hundred and fifty-buckeroos, baby!” He put the card down, picked up his empty glass and tapped the remnants of ice from the bottom into his mouth, and began crunching it while humming the happy birthday tune.

“Okay, I’m almost done.” She said.

She felt no small amount of disappointment as she was already more than halfway through without any matches. Nearing the bottom row, she thought she found a match and froze and even held her breath while examining and reexamining it.

Johnny stopped his humming and crunching and asked, “What?”

“I’m not sure.” She passed the card over to him—a sensation of lightheadedness washing over her.

Johnny took the card, looked it over, and went as motionless and quiet as she had.

“Is it?” She asked.

“O'yeah.” He answered her—his expression hidden behind the oversized scratch card.

“Twenty. Thousand?” She asked, barely louder than a whisper, begging for confirmation.

“Twenty-Thousand.” He confirmed, beaming as he lowered the card and handed it back over to her.

She took the card from him and couldn’t stop looking at it, torn between the desire to feel utter happiness and the need not to get too attached to the idea of it.

Finally, Jenny allowed herself to give in to the flood of relief and joy. She grabbed one of the used napkins to wipe the tears that had begun streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh. My. God!” She looked up at him. “I don’t have to move!”

Johnny placed his hand on the top of hers and shook his head solemnly.

“What?” She asked, immediately panicked.

“That’s not what’s most important.” He answered.

“Why?” she felt instant dizzying confusion.

Johnny smiled and patted her hand to reassure her and turned to pull the black notebook out of his backpack.

“Because,” He grinned, “this is!”

She could see in his eyes that he was genuinely sorry for just having terrorized her, but the indomitable grin across his face also said that he couldn’t help himself.

Her heart rate began to lower again as she put the life-changing little piece of card stock paper down on the table and took the notebook from him.

She turned the book over and saw her name embossed in gold near the bottom with a little butterfly centered above it.

She opened the cover to the first page and read, “Sis, I’m not breaking the rules; this isn’t a birthday gift. It’s a, ‘I know you’re having a brutal time of it right now, but hang in there’- present! Love ya, Johnny.”