"nothing so needs reforming as other people's habits" - mark twain
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Becky stood on the curb in front of the school, waiting for the arrival of her sister. Typically, when having a short workday, Becky would go home and try to catch up on some errands or do some cleaning around her apartment.
Knowing Taran, however, this would be more than going to meet a new artist in the area.
She would somehow convince Becky to go out for dinner, and, knowing how much her sister liked to talk, they wouldn’t be parting ways until much later in the evening.
Nevertheless, Becky was quick to decide that it was one of the few times in the week that she got to be with one of her siblings and that she should appreciate it.
After five minutes of waiting for her older sister, Taran eventually pulled up to the school. She had her windows rolled all the way down to allow her music to flow freely through them.
Becky climbed into the front seat and clipped her seatbelt in place before looking to Taran who was scrutinizing her with a look.
“What?” Becky asked, crinkling her nose in disapproval of her sister’s face.
“Why are you dressed like that?”
“Like what, Tar?”
“Like… like someone who’s not a teacher,” Taran said, head now tilted to the side in what could only be mock confusion.
Becky glanced down at her simple attire. Dark denim jeans, a white t-shirt, and an oversized coat with black ankle boots to match. It was what could be considered a very basic outfit.
“Don’t you have an appointment to make?” Becky asked, deciding to ignore her sister’s previous comment.
“Maybe we should cancel and go and get you some blouses and slacks.”
“I will get out of this car, Tartar.” Becky threatened, reaching for the handle of her door.
In response, Taran pressed on the gas and quickly tore away from the curb of the school.
“So, who’s this person we’re seeing today?”
“A new artist. She used to privately sell her work around Europe and Asia, and was pretty big there. I’m determined to get her pieces while they’re still on the cheaper side before people discover her and she raises the costs through the roof."
“And if she doesn’t succeed here?” Becky questioned, earning a glare from Taran.
“A) don’t jinx it; and B) I’m never wrong about up and coming artists.”
Becky raised her hands in mock surrender and laughed before reaching for the aux chord and plugging in her phone.
“None of that Rager shit you used to listen to in high school please,” Taran said, now earning a glare from Becky.
“Pretty sure I’m no longer an angsty teen,” Becky said, allowing some alternative-indie song to play out.
Taran laughed, “remember how much it used to worry Ma?”
“She thought I had anger issues for years!” Becky said with an amused laugh.
“Yeah, well, Ma's always been a bit of a worrier.”
The two reminisced in silence for a moment before opening up new conversations about their last week of work and whatnot. They enjoyed one another’s company for the twenty-minute drive it took to the get to the studio.
“This is it,” Taran said, parking her car along the curb and glancing at the building number to be sure she got it right.
“It’s big,” Becky commented, making Taran laugh.
“She only occupies the top floor. C’mon, let’s go and meet this mystery artist,” Taran said, moving to get out of the car.
She stopped abruptly and grabbed Becky's wrist, forcing her sister to look at her. “Embarrass me or cost me this partnership and I will kill you, Rebecca.”
“You invited me, remember?”
“Just be cool,” Taran said, making Becky roll her eyes and nod before finally stepping out of the car.
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Freen set her phone down as soon as the glass door to her studio was pushed open. A short woman with long brunette hair entered, and another a short brunette not too far behind.
“Hi! Welcome... Becky..” Freen enthused before falling short, her eyes having finally met Becky's and recognition setting in.
“Do you two know each other?” Taran asked, noticing the awkward stare the two were sharing.
“Ms. Armstrong– I mean Becky, is the English teacher of my foster daughter.”
“Ahh,” Taran said, glancing behind herself at Becky and wiggling her eyebrows.
“Sorry, I’m being rude. Can I get either of you anything, Ms? Water, coffee, tea?”
“I’m fine, P'Freen.” Becky said.
“Some coffee would be amazing,” Taran added at the same time.
“One coffee it is then. Feel free to look around,” Freen invited them, motioning to the pieces she had set up around the room.
Taran immediately jumped at the opportunity and went to a painting, taking her time to read the description, details, and other information that Becky truly had no interest in.
The short brunette decided to follow Freen to the small kitchenette set up in the corner of the studio.
Freen noticed the woman standing around awkwardly and decided to strike up some conversation.
“Sorry about Pranita's attitude these last few weeks,” Freen said, going on to add, “I’d like to say that she’s been getting better at minding her tone and manners, but that would be a lie.”
“Teens are like that,” Becky said, trying to brush off the apology.
“Not that bad, but thanks for trying to make me feel better,” Freen laughed, turning to Becky entirely once the coffee started to brew. “So, art collecting as well as teaching, huh?”
“No, my sister, Taran, is the art collector. I’m just tagging along because she insisted.”
“I see,” Freen nodded, chewing her lip when she realized they were slipping into a semi-awkward silence. “Why teaching?” the taller brunette blurted out, realizing the lack of context in her question.
Becky laughed lightly and shrugged, clearly getting the gist of the new conversation starter.
“I used to volunteer with this youth help program. It was really life-changing for me, and I guess I wanted to take what I learned and do something good with it. Also I’m a big book nerd so being an English teacher just made sense.”
“Wow,” Freen breathed, a smile ghosting her lips.
Becky unknowingly made herself incredibly attractive to Freen. It’s not like her stunning looks hadn’t already piqued her interest, but a statement like that was what really pushed her over the edge. Becky was good, and Freen had a thing for incredibly kind and good people.
“That’s a really… there needs to be more people like that in the education system,” Freen finally decided to add when she realized her silence was a bit rude.
It was true. While she’d only had Nita and Emily for six months, four of them had been spent with the girls attending school and it really opened her eyes to the way that teachers treated some kids.
“Thanks ka,” Becky said, blushing slightly. “How about you? Why art?” Becky asked, the two sharing a small laugh at the way that Becky copied Freen's previous choice of words.
“This was sort of a… dramatic and hasty decision,” Freen admitted.
“Clearly it worked out for you,” Becky said, making the taller brunette nod in agreement.
“I got extremely lucky. Truthfully, I ran off to Europe right out of high school as a way to get back at my Mae.”
“As one does,” Becky said sarcastically, causing the two to laugh again.
“Yeah, I was a pretty dramatic kid,” Freen said, chewing her lip as she contemplated on whether or not to add the reasoning behind her running off. She shook her head and continued, “anyways, I started moving around different countries and only settled down in certain cities long enough to paint or sketch a few things. After a while, some people started growing interested in my work. I couldn’t carry all my work along with me as I trekked around the continent, so I started selling them. Not for a lot, but enough to afford me new supplies. Eventually, someone really wealthy thought my art was going to be big, bought some pieces for a lot of money, and left with that. Not a week later his friends started approaching me for pieces. That’s when I settled down in Amsterdam.”
“I’m jealous. Living in Amsterdam must’ve been amazing,” Becky enthused, making Freen nod.
“It’s beautiful. I got a lot of my inspiration for my pieces from there.”
Freen realized that their conversation distracted her from the coffee that had finished a while ago, causing the her to hurry to the machine and remove the pot.
“You sure you don’t want coffee?” Freen asked, grabbing a mug for Taran.
“I’m good na. That’ll be my sixth cup today and I would actually like to sleep tonight.”
“Fair enough,” Freen laughed, placing the pot down and grabbing the full cup. “Give me a second.”
Freen got Taran settled with the coffee and double-checked to see if she had any questions before returning to Becky who had taken to admiring an oil painting she did.
“I can see why you were such a hit in Europe,” Becky said when Freen stopped beside her.
“Thanks ka,” Freen blushed, a feeling of pride rushing through her. She wasn’t sure why, but she was excited that she impressed Becky.
“What brought you back to Bangkok?” Becky asked, making Freen frown slightly.
“I was getting comfortable, I guess,” Freen lied, adding as an afterthought, “I needed to challenge myself as an artist so I decided to see if I could make it in Thailand.”
“So where did Pranita and her sister come into all of this?”
Freen prepared to answer but Taran was quick to interrupt with an enthusiastic, “Oh my god!”
“Everything alright Ms?” Freen asked, looking over to her client.
“This is amazing! How much do you want for it?”
“You better head over there, P'Freen. Once she sees something she likes she sort of becomes attached,” Becky said, making Freen laugh and nod.
-----
“Stupid Seng was a butthead and didn’t believe me so I put an ant into his snack at recess.”
Nita rolled her eyes at Emily's seemingly endless tale about her day at school. She loved her little sister with all her heart, but the six-year-old was sometimes too hard to keep up with.
“Don’t get caught,” was all Nita could say as a warning, making the little one look her dead in the eye.
“Duh! I’m not dumb like you, P'Nita.”
“Watch yourself, Em. Freen won’t be home to save you until 5.”
“Can I watch TV until then?”
“Whatever you want,” Nita said, grabbing her house key as they approached the townhome.
The two girls entered the house and kicked off their shoes.
“Hey, where’d this hole come from?” Nita asked when she noticed that Emily's worn down pink sneaker had a hole along that side where the sole met the fabric.
“I dunno,” Emily said, not really caring much for the damaged shoe. “It makes my sock all wet when it rains, though.”
“Emi..,” Nita sighed, swinging her bag off her back and looking for her wallet.
She counted out her cash and change, frowning when she realized she only had 3000baht($85) on her.
It was their backup money in the event that their foster home became dangerous and they needed a way to escape. Shoes weren’t really a good reason to spend most of it.
“Okay, I need you to stay alone for a bit, okay? I’ll be home before Freen.”
“Where’re you going, phi?” Emily asked, moving to follow her sister out the door.
“I have to get you some shoes that don’t have holes. Just give me an hour.”
“Okay ka,” Emily agreed, frowning when her sister opened the door.
“Don’t get in trouble, k P'Nita?”
“I won’t,” Nita smiled, pressing a kiss to Emily's forehead before saying, “why don’t you go watch some TV, yeah?”
Emily nodded and moved to the living room, dragging her bag behind her as she went.
With that, Nita left the house and hurried to the nearest bus stop, hoping with every bit of her being that she could get the shoes without any trouble. She hated that she had to result to stealing.
It wasn’t something she felt good doing, but she also knew that her little sister couldn’t walk around with a giant hole in her shoes. This wasn’t the first and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time she’d swipe something from the mall.
Two stops later, Nita was close enough to the mall to walk. She tried to be as efficient as possible and hurried to Payless where she breathed out a sigh of relief when she found that it was busy with parents and kids who were also shoe shopping.
Nita slipped by the customers and went to the kids section where she was keeping an eye out for any sneakers that already came in Emily's size.
It didn’t take her long to find a basic black pair with small batman symbols on the side. Emily wouldn’t be too pleased that they weren’t pink like her last pair, but they would have to do.
Looking around herself, Nita grabbed one shoe and slipped it into her backpack before grabbing the second one and holding it by her side. She walked around the store a bit to play off her reasoning for being there before finding a second opportunity to sneak the second shoe into her bag.
Hiking her bag over her shoulder, Nita hurried for the exit. She was almost home free. Just out of the mall and to the bus and then she’d be fine.
Nita was near the food court when a man dressed as security approached, his sights clearly honed in on her.
“Fuck,” Nita breathed out, stopping in her tracks and contemplating on running.
“If you run I’ll be forced to call the police. Now, follow me,” the man said, leaving no room for arguments.
Nita, who knew better than to get into anything with the cops, nodded and followed the man.
She was in deep shit.
To be continued...