Free Family Affair by Saxon Bennett Page A

good-looking and smart. Everything would start like that until her muse—the dark, ironic comedian—got hold of the scene and everything fell to crap. She would devour Chase's beautiful imaginary world, spitting out great chunks of falsehood and making fun of the world's foibles and demonstrating how failure and dashed hopes were much more interesting than perfection.
     
    Chase glanced over at Gitana who looked the picture of serenity as she gazed out on the mountains with the green of the scrub just starting to blossom—the yellow flowers of the rabbit bush and the wild purple asters bursting forth as if afraid of missing their arrival date.
     
    Chase brought herself back to the task at hand. "So got any ideas for side dishes?" She hadn't found anything within her limited abilities in the magazines.
     
    "Go to Costco and get those medallions..." Gitana said.
     
    Chase interceded. "You mean those little round steaks with bacon wrapped around them." She wanted to be clear about this.
     
    "Yes, they're filet mignons but very well priced. Then get two bags of fresh artichokes, a couple loaves of sourdough bread, a tub of spinach dip, a bag of fifty count shrimp with cocktail sauce and a bag of russet potatoes," Gitana instructed.
     
    "Will you write this down?"
     
    "I'll make a list."
     
    "And I can buy all this at Costco?" Chase inquired, hoping she wasn't going to have to run all over town.
     
    "Yes."
     
    "Why do I subscribe to these magazines?" She smacked the cover of the BonAppetit.
     
    Graciela looked up from her continuing text argument and smirked.
     
    "Because we all like to dream. We imagine the possibility and loathe the reality of doing it," Gitana said. She finished her orange juice and smiled patiently at Chase.
     
    "That fucking bitch!" Graciela screamed at the phone while her fingers flew across the keyboard.
     
    "We're going to have to talk to her about her language," Chase said, remembering that she'd said "fuck" seven times so far today.
     
    Gitana nodded.
     
    "Does everyone do this thing?" Chase jabbed a finger at the phone.
     
    "Texting is very popular. I have to reprimand the crew at the greenhouse all the time. They're supposed to be working not texting their friends. I find them holed up in the oddest places—I caught Josh behind the manure pile one day. It was disgusting," Gitana said.
     
    "Why don't they just call instead of texting? It seems like talking would be more expedient than all this finger flying."
     
    Chase bent down and picked up the tennis ball Jane had rolled toward her. The dogs had returned from tormenting the rabbits.
     
    She threw the ball and Jane went after it. Annie rested at Gitana's feet, her long pink tongue hanging out.
     
    "I think it's a form of detachment," Gitana was saying. "Graciela is most likely texting things she wouldn't necessarily say if she was actually talking to Andrea."
     
    "All right, that's it, we're through," Graciela said. She chugged her beer.
     
    "You should train to be a court stenographer with fingers like that," Gitana said. She was always trying to counsel Graciela about finding some sort of lucrative career.
     
    Graciela faked a yawn. "Boring." She looked over at Chase. "Want another beer?"
     
    "Sure."
     
    "How about more concentrated orange juice minus the poly-sorbate five?"
     
    "Yes, please," Gitana said, handing her the glass.
     
    Graciela had been a waitress along with other sundry jobs—a long list of low-paying, dead-end employment. Currently, she was detailing cars for rich women in the North East Heights. Graciela alluded to other things she did for these women. Chase imagined her seducing older women on the hoods of their Mercedes-Benzes and BMWs.
     
    Graciela's phone beeped. She returned with the drinks.
     
    "Your phone went off again," Chase said. She resumed her reclined position and sipped her beer, musing that life could be quite pleasant at times. The dogs lounged at her feet.
     
    Graciela read her