CHAPTER EIGHT
Project Coco Fund = $535.05
I’M SURPRISING BETTY at the airport. She always takes the same flight back from Boston on Sundays.
The best strategy is to do this face-to-face, even though getting to the airport is a major pain when you don’t have a car, and I wasn’t about to shell out my newly-earned cash on a cab ride.
Betty’s been doing these weekend trips for months; this is the first time I’ve come to meet her. I was going to put her name on a piece of cardboard, but thought that would be overkill. (And she’d probably get suspicious.)
I’ve been waiting at her arrival gate for what seems like forever. I’m running out of things to amuse myself with, and now my phone battery is dangerously low.
When she finally comes out of the gate, she looks worn-out. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. It probably would’ve been smarter to wait until tomorrow. But it’s too late, I’ve already come all this way.
“Betty! Betty! Over here!”
She doesn’t immediately realize someone is calling her name. When she sees me waving while jumping up and down, she hurries towards my direction.
“Erin? Is everything all right? What are you doing here?”
“I came to surprise you!”
“Really? Okay, phew. I thought maybe something bad had happened,” she says, visibly exhaling.
“Can’t a big sister surprise her little sister at the airport, every now and again?”
“Well, you haven’t before, so you caught me off guard. But I’m so glad you’re here. I needed to see a friendly face,” she says, giving me a side hug with her baggage-free arm.
“And I’m glad to see you, sis,” I say, hugging her back. “Hey, are we cabbing it or taking public transit?”
“Cabbing it. There’s no way I can deal with people after my flight. There was a baby on-board who cried the entire time. Babies shouldn’t fly.”
“Betty! Little people need to see the world, too.”
“I know, I know. I’m just cranky and hungry.”
Uh-oh. I should’ve brought her a snack. “Here, let me take your bag. How was your weekend?” I ask, taking the bag from her.
“Horrible. Matt and I got into a huge fight about this whole long distance thing. He doesn’t know when he’ll be back in Toronto. I’m so tired of going back and forth all the time.”
“Yeah, it’s rough, but you guys will work something out. You always do.”
“I don’t know. I have my limits.”
We’re the first ones in the taxi line and get a cab right away. We ride in silence for a while until I can’t wait any longer. I need to ask her.
“Hey, Betty . . .”
“Yeah?” she answers as she looks out the window at the passing horizon.
“I wanted to talk to you about Project Coco.”
Betty turns towards me and says, “I knew you didn’t come to surprise me. Seriously, this is becoming an obsession. Let it go. It’s just a bag.”
“It’s not ‘just a bag,’ and you know it, Betty.” She can be so cold. “It’s mom’s bag. I need to at least try to get it back.”
“It’s not ‘mom’s bag,’ and you know that, Erin. Mom’s gone, and you can’t get her back by buying some bag. Plus, her bag could be anywhere. For all we know, some posh socialite on the other side of the world is wearing it as we speak.”
“I don’t think so. I feel a connection to it. And I’m getting all of these signs from the universe. I know it sounds crazy, but there’s a chance, a slight one I’ll admit, that it really is her bag.”
“It does sound crazy. I’m sure the universe has better things to do than point you in the direction of a bag.”
“Fine, let’s agree to disagree on that. All I’m asking—and you can say no if you want—but I was thinking maybe you could—”
“I’m not giving you the money.”
“I wasn’t asking you to give me the money. It would be more of a loan. I’ll pay you back with the money I’m making from the errand service. We can share the bag until I can buy out your portion.”
“I’m not loaning you thousands of dollars so you can buy some silly bag.”
“IT’S NOT A SILLY BAG!”
The taxi driver turns his head slightly. I lower my voice and say, “Whatever. You’re the reason we don’t have it anymore.”
“I should’ve known you would eventually bring this up. Don’t try to guilt-trip me, Erin. I needed braces. Don’t you remember how bad my teeth were?”
“Yeah, but don’t you see? This is our chance to get it back. After all these years, it can be ours again!” I hesitate before adding, “You kind of owe me.”
“For what? Being orthodontically-challenged?”
“Betty, you know what I’m talking about.”
“Oh, that’s low!” Betty looks at me as if I slapped her on the face. “I was on an audit! I came every weekend. I took care of her, too. I don’t see how one thing has to do with the other, but if we’re keeping score, you owe me: nine thousand, five hundred, and thirty-seven dollars to be exact.”
“For what?”
“Your share of mom’s funeral and final expenses. I paid for everything.”
“I didn’t have any money! Not everyone gets a scholarship to cover their university expenses; some people have to get student loans.”
“Yeah, well, not everyone adds to those student loans by backpacking across Europe for the summer, spending money they don’t have, instead of getting a job to pay off their debts, like a responsible adult would.”
“You suck, Betty.”
“You suck more. This is the last thing I need to worry about right now. I think it’s better if you take the subway the rest of your way home. I want to be alone.”
“Fine.”
We ride in silence until the taxi driver lets me off at the nearest subway station. I get out of the cab and take one last look at Betty, who has her face turned away from me.
Betty and I don’t fight. Okay, we’ve had the odd disagreement, but this time is different. We went places we’ve never gone before. I open my mouth to say something, but there’s nothing left to say.
I slam the cab door and make my way to the station.