Needing Space Who: Nic and Zania Where: Their house When: Late Night Warnings: Language
Nic sat at the kitchen table, a beer in his hand as he reviewed this month’s bills. None of it was a surprise to him. They pretty much ran the same every month in the dome, but the conversation that followed was never something he anticipated. It generally went the same as well, though he’d told himself that needed to change.
Which was why he was dreading his cousin’s return home. It was late when she walked through the door, just finishing a midnight shift at the diner. He hated to catch her off guard, but the alternative was chasing her down and he wasn’t up for it. They both had to work, and this was a conversation that needed to take place at home, not at the diner or anywhere else. If she thought making a scene would help her case, she just might go for it.
“Hey,” she smiled as she closed the front door. It had been a long day, a weird one, and she was ready for a good night’s sleep. “You’re up late.”
“Yeah, I was hoping to catch you,” he said, then took a sip of his beer. Courage in a bottle, though this wasn’t the kind he usually went looking for. Dealing with Zania could be rough sometimes, depending on her mood. “I need your share for this month’s bills.”
Zania crossed the room, toeing off her shoes along the way, one near the couch, the other in the kitchen. She dropped her bag on the counter, then opened the cabinet to remove a glass. “Can you cover me this month?” she asked as she turned towards the faucet to fill the glass with water. “I spent it all to buy the lighting and sound equipment for the club.”
Nic bit down on his bottom lip. This was what he’d expected, but not what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t the first time she’d asked him to cover it for her, and while he could, she’d never pay him back. He’d stopped trying to keep tab. “You spent it all?” Of course she did. The traders were in town and he’d seen the equipment she purchased around the house. It was hard to miss it.
“Yeah, but I can pay you back,” Zania answered, her back still to Nic as she picked through the cupboards looking for something to snack on. There was less than she expected and she frowned. Had he forgotten to buy food this week? She settled on a piece of bread to munch on, but she’d been hoping for something more substantial.
He tried to wait until she was facing him, so that they could have a proper conversation, but it looked like she was going to avoid him. Perhaps she thought if she didn’t make eye contact that he wouldn’t push the issue. Nic was known for backing down, but he wasn’t going to this time. “It doesn’t work like that, Zan.”
“It’s just one month--” she started, opening the fridge in hopes of finding some jelly. Nic cut her off before she could finish, at which point she finally looked his way.
“No, you did this last month,” Nic said. She was always spending her money on something other than what she should, in his eyes. A sewing machine. A home distillery. A lemon tree. The apple tree he could understand, but lemons were far less useful, since they weren’t something either of them ate. “If I cover your half, we won’t have enough for food.” In fact, he’d purposefully not bought anything at the market this week to prove his point. If he didn’t buy it, and she didn’t have the money, then what would she eat? He knew she’d end up snacking at the diner, but watching her hunt for food around an empty kitchen got closer to making his point.
“We had enough for food last month,” she said, except she knew they didn’t. She’d started taking her meals at the diner because there was nothing to eat at home. Just like now. She’d have said something, except that would highlight the fact that she never went shopping herself. Instead, she tried another tactic. “How do people that live alone make this work?” she asked. “They’ve got the same size house, right? I mean, some are smaller, but this is pretty standard, even if there’s two bedrooms instead of one.”
“Because they live like one person, not like two,” Nic sighed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t tell if she was playing dumb or if she really didn’t know. “I make enough to cover all the bills and my own expenses, not yours too. We use more water, more electricity, and we pay taxes for two people. And the refrigerator is empty. Am I supposed to buy your food, since you’ve already spent your paycheck? It’s not fair that I keep paying your way so you can blow your paycheck each month.”
“I’m trying to build a club!” Zania said, her voice rising with her frustration. Didn’t he see how much that meant to her? She didn’t want to be a waitress in her brother’s diner full time. She didn’t want to be a seamstress. What she wanted was a place where people could go and hang out, enjoy the music and dance. A place to be free, if only for a little bit. And she could make it. She knew she could, if she was only given a chance.
“That’s great. It really is,” Nic said, his tone rising to match her own. “Except for the fact that I’m paying for half of it!” Not in the most conventional sense, but by paying for all her other expenses, he was still contributing. It was just a matter of how the money was distributed. “It’s not that I don’t want to help, but I can’t support you. You’re my roommate, my cousin, not my kid.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she spat. She couldn’t decide which made her more mad, the idea that he was putting his money into the club, for which he’d never given her a cent, or that she was acting like a child.
“I’m not!” Nic argued, rising from the table. He couldn’t stay seated and have this conversation. He found himself beginning to pace and ended up pulling out a cigarette in order to still himself. “You’re depending on me to pay for everything, plus you’ve taken over most of the house. You’ve got moonshine brewing in the basement and you’re sewing in the living room. I can’t even have people over without tripping over your shit.”
“Don’t smoke in the house,” Zania snapped when he began to light up. He knew she hated it and when all he did was glare at her, she marched across the kitchen and opened a window. “When did you have people over?” she asked. While Nic was social, that mostly just meant he talked to people at the bar. In the year they’d been there, not once had he had a friend over or brought a girl home... or a guy, for that matter.
“I can smoke in the house if I want to. I’m the one paying for it,” he growled, watching as she stalked over to the window. He’d have done that in a moment, but she’d beat him to it. “You’re totally missing the point!” Nic shouted. And there she’d managed to get under his skin. He found himself counting to ten as he took a long drag. When he finished, his voice was even again. “I think maybe you should get your own place.”
“Are you kicking me out?” she asked, her eyes taking over the top half of her face, big as they were. She’d known he wasn’t happy, but she hadn’t seen this coming. She’d always been able to talk Nic down, to weasel him out of one more month, but apparently this had been one month too many. How could he do this to her?! They were family!
“I just think we need some space,” he said calmly. He knew this wasn’t going well, but the worst was over. He’d finally given her the news. Now he just had to weather the storm.
“You’re fucking kicking me out!” Zania screamed and picked up the nearest object to her, close to throwing in on the ground. Luckily, it was her bread and jam. Luckily, she changed her mind. It would have made a mess and would have been a waste of good jam.
“I’m asking you to be a responsible adult!” he screamed right back at her. He didn’t miss her almost throwing something at him and he gestured to the bread in her hand. “Really?” was all he said. It felt like that action alone had proven his point.
“You’re not asking me. You’re telling me!” she whined. She felt like destroying something, but everything breakable seemed to be hers. If there’d been a door to slam, she’d have slammed it.
“I’m telling you that if you don’t get your shit together, you’re going to drive me crazy!” Nic growled. Was this really so hard for her to understand? She was behaving like a five year old. Her toys were scattered all over the house and she expected someone else to feed her. And Nic was done.
She couldn’t figure out where this had come from. It was out of nowhere, a year after living together. Maybe that hadn’t been the best idea, but they’d been together for so long that she hadn’t wanted him to be far away. His presence made her feel safe in the beginning, when she still thought zombies would wander into her room at night. “And this is all over, what, the water bill?”
“It’s every. fucking. thing!” he snapped back at her. Every time he thought he’d calmed down, she went and asked something utterly ridiculous. “It’s you playing music at three in the morning when I’m trying to sleep. It’s your bras hanging in the bathroom. It’s the club equipment in the basement, and the lack of food in the fridge, and the dirty dishes that you never wash, and your shit just being everywhere. I feel like I’m paying for you, and picking up after you, and practically encouraging you to walk all over me. And you fucking get away with it because I don’t want to kick you out. But we’ve been living together for four years now. And I know some of that was on the road, and I’m glad you were there with me, but I need some space now. And I don’t think you’ll ever learn to be responsible for yourself unless you’re forced into it.”
It wasn’t often that she got a full tirade out of Nic. It really said a lot about how frustrated he was with the whole arrangement, more than the words he was using. In fact, half of them went in one ear and out the other, but the length of time spent saying them managed to get through to her. “You really want me gone?” she asked quietly.
“No,” Nic sighed. “Yes. Maybe just... move next door. I’m not asking you to take off to Babylon or something.” All he wanted was his own space, the expectation that things might be where he left them and that he wouldn’t have to babysit a grown woman. It didn’t seem like much to ask for.
Zania thought that if she started crying, she might be able to make him go back on his decision. But how long until they went through this again? And if they did, it would be worse. Every time would be worse. And she didn’t want to ruin their relationship, which had always been relatively good. If moving out would save that, then it wasn’t worth it to manipulate him. “I’ll look into it.”
“Really?” Nic said, slumping back against the counter. He’d expected her argument to continue, not for her to fold and give in to his demands. That was so rare that he began to worry, second guessing his decision.
“Yeah,” she nodded, then picked up her glass of water and her half eaten bread with jam. She’d made a mess of it, getting jam all over her fingers. At least she hadn’t thrown it, because then she might have had to clean it up and she was too tired for that. It was late. “I’m gonna head to bed.”
“Zan... don’t be mad. Please,” Nic said softly. He hated to fight with her and really didn’t want the two of them to be on bad terms. Nic was the kind of guy that wanted everyone to like him and couldn’t stand it when someone was mad at him. It was worse when it was family and she was like a sister to him.
“I’m not,” she sighed. She knew Nic, that he was probably doubting the whole thing now. She needed to leave before he backed off completely, which might not be a good thing. If he changed his mind, then she’d stay, but she knew that wasn’t what he wanted. “I just... need to think, I guess.”
“Okay,” Nic said, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. He hoped he’d made the right decision here. It had seemed like it till now, and now he couldn’t help but worry he’d really messed things up. “Night Zan.”
“Night Nicky,” she called back, retiring to her room. Her room. When they’d arrived in the dome, she’d been so excited to have a room again, and now she was losing this one. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t have another. He wouldn’t toss her out on the street. But she did need to find a new place to stay, and soon, just to show him that she’d heard him. Tomorrow she’d even start boxing things up. But that was tomorrow. Right now she was exhausted and collapsed into bed, bread and jam still in her hand.