Just to let anyone reading this know, these chapters get a little racy and im sorry if they offend anyone especially the language in ch 5.
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Nadine pulled her rusty beige Saab into my mother’s driveway as a creepy middle-aged man with a fake mustache pulled out. A shiver went down my spine. Another fun-filled weekend with Mommy was just beginning.
I followed Nadine to the door only to be greeted by a half-naked, vodka ridden, cracked out version of my mother. The only version of my mother that I’d seen since the split.
“Hey kids,” she shined her yellow-toothed grin, “mommy missed you.” Her voice sounded raspier than usual.
Nadine tried to walk past mom into the house but my mother grabbed her by the face a planted a sloppy wet kiss on her lips. Ewe, I thought to myself. Nadine wiped her face almost immediately and trudged into the house. My mother looked down at me and smiled. She looked older than last time I saw her, which was last weekend. Pam sprawled out her gangly fingers with long purple fake nails attached and grabbed for my face
I frowned and walked into the house. I could’ve cut through the cigarette smoke with a butter knife. I ventured into the kitchen and looked into the fridge.
One bottle of ketchup
A moldy lump of Swiss cheese
A pan full of her special tomato sauce
Peanut butter. Was that even supposed to be refrigerated?
Disappointed by the food selection, I sat on the cheap velvet couch and grabbed for the remote. It felt greasy. Who knows what the mystery coating on it was. My mother sat next to me. Oh God.
“So Nadine—whoopsies I mean Lily,” my mom laughed, “ha, I guess my mind is a little in the clouds today.”
So that’s what they call being drunk these days?
“How’s my favorite girl doing?” She grabbed my hand and rubbed it.
“Fine, Mom.” I felt disgusted by her.
“So Curtis tells me your daddy has a new slut.”
Wow she really didn’t waste time making me extremely uncomfortable.
“I guess,” I mumbled looking down at my feet.
“What does she look like?”
I said nothing.
“Is she prettier than me?” She demanded loudly.
“I don’t know.”
My mother frowned, I hadn’t satisfied her.
She directed her attention to Curtis. “Curtis, baby, is mommy prettier than devil woman?”
“Who is the devil woman?” Curtis asked.
“That tramp your father is dating, honey.”
I loved how she added baby and honey onto her sentences to sound like a nurturing parent. I didn’t buy it.
“No mommy, you’re the prettiest girl ever!” Curtis yelled.
Curtis always sucked up. He didn’t even have to, Mom loved him best anyways. Probably because he reminded her of Tomasito, Curtis’ father. She thought Tomasito was so sexy as she watched him paint the house down the street, she decided that she just had to have him and then bada boom Curtis was created. Of course my mother never told me this; Bobbi and me figured it out after Curtis was born a Mexican.
My mother hugged Curtis, “Ah that’s right sugar, now go fetch mommy her cigs.”
Holy fuck. Did she just really say that?
I got up and walked to my room, I passed Nadine’s room. The door was shut. Tyrone probably snuck through the window and was with her right now, either doing drugs or doing it.
I threw myself into my bed and fell asleep almost immediately. I dreamt of Steve. He picked me up in his beautiful car and we drove down to the beach. He looked angelic as he laid in the sand next to me. We rolled into the water kissing passionately. Then I started to drown and he disappeared. I could see him flying away into the sun as I sunk deeper into the water.
I woke up coughing.
I looked over at my alarm clock. It read 7:32 pm in screaming red letters. I had been asleep for 3 hours at least. I pulled my body out of bed and walked out to the living room. My mother was gone. Typical. Probably out to the corner store to by some cheap alcohol to “escape” with later that night. Betsy and Curtis were watching Spongebob with blank stares. Francis was probably in Pam’s room watching football, not for the game, but to see muscular men sweating and tackling each other in spandex material.
I made my way over to Nadine’s bedroom in hopes to find a cigarette. She wasn’t in the room from what I could see outside the door. I walked in. There was lump under a blanket in the bed. I assumed it was her.
“Nadine?” I whispered.
“Ahhrg,” was the lump’s response.
“Nadine, can I have a cigarette?”
“Lily?” It was definitely not Nadine, unless her voice had become unusually deep in 3 hours.
Tyrone’s head emerged from the lump.
“Oh sorry,” I quickly said.
“What’d ya want?” He spat out.
“Do you know if Nadine has any cigarettes?”
“Yeah,” he smirked, “come over here.”
“Uh ok.” I walked closer, confused.
“Now, I’ve got some down here.” Tyrone nodded towards underneath the blanket.
I just starred at him. Was he kidding around? I didn’t know what to think.
“Go on grab one.” He smiled approvingly.
I continued to stand still and silent.
“Yo, just take your hand—,” he grabbed my hand and led it underneath the covers, “and grab the big one.”
I felt something warm and fleshy. Oh God. Was I touching his, his manhood? Oh Shit.
“That’s right.” Tyrone was obviously satisfied.
“What the Hell is going on!?” Nadine yelled.
I looked over to the door and sure enough there was Nadine standing there in nothing but underwear and wife beater. No bra.
I was frozen. Shit Shit Shit Shit. What the Hell could I say to her? She would never buy the whole cigarette thing. I didn’t even know what to think of the situation myself. SHIT.
“Lillian, what the fuck are you doing!?” She screamed.
My mouth stayed closed and my hand remained under the blanket. Oh Fucking Shit. I wanted to die.
“Nad, its not what it looks like. She wouldn’t leave.” Tyrone pushed my arm away as if it was covered in arsenic.
“You fucking slut whorebag, just get out!” Nadine pointed to the door.
“Yeah get out, I didn’t want your momma and I don’t want you!” Tyrone added.
Great Tyrone forces me to fondle him, lies about it and then compares me to my mom. Just great.
A quiet “Ok” was just about all I could muster up to say as I was walking out of Nadine’s room with my head down.
I walked in to my room and shut the door. What the fuck had just happened? I felt dirty and used. I wanted to climb in a hole and hide there for years. Why did I let it go that far? What the Hell was I thinking? Did I actually think there would’ve been a cigarette underneath the covers? Ah. Yuck. Not to mention I was totally just violated by my sister’s felon boyfriend and then framed for it.
AND I DIDN’T EVEN GET A DAMN CIGARETTE!
God help me find a good hole to climb in.
I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Francis, Curtis and Nadine were also sitting at the table eating a late breakfast. I had no idea where Betsy was and my mother was passed out in her bed. Nadine glared and me and I wouldn’t have talked to her, considering the circumstances, but I really needed milk that she held in her hand. I stalled for as long as I could, I took my time pouring bran flakes into my bowl and I put some back into the box just to procrastinate. Then I slowly strolled up to the counter to grab a spoon even though there was a clean one on the table. Nadine saw right through my routine and continued to hold onto the milk just to spite me. I sat back down and decided that enough was enough; I had to talk to Nadine.
I cleared my throat
“Nadine, can you please pass the milk, please?” Crap, I said please twice.
“What?” She answered rudely.
“Can you pass me over the milk?” I spoke louder, leaving out a please.
She passed the milk. Phew, she was over yesterday. Thank God.
“Would you like me to turn around so I don’t have to watch you give that a hand job too?” She starred at me with an evil grin. I had spoken too soon.
“No, I just want milk for my cereal.” I stated plainly. I hated the words hand job; it was barely what happened between me and Tyrone. For God sakes, why did she have to use the specific terminology?
“What’s a hand job?” Curtis asked innocently.
“Nothing,” I said, annoyed.
“You know what Curtis, Lily can probably show you what one is on my boyfriend; she seems to be good at that.” Nadine looked content with her statement.
“I just wanted milk, Nadine.” I tried to stay calm.
“Oh shut up! You’re just jealous because no guy would ever want your fat ass sea urchin body. EVER!”
I wanted rip everything off the table and then push it over onto Nadine’s little prostitute frame, but I resisted the temptation. I resorted to trying to tell her how I felt.
“I don’t want Tyrone, you can have him.” I was on my last nerve
“I can have him?” Nadine laughed. “I’ve always had him and he is very satisfied with me, ass face.”
“Satisfied!? I wouldn’t call forcing your ass faced little sister to touch his junk satisfied!” I yelled
I didn’t want to sink to Nadine’s level but I had to and it felt damn good.
“What’s a hand job?!” Curtis asked once again.
“NOTHING!” I yelled.
“Don’t worry Curtis, I’ll tell you what it is later.” Francis said softly.
“Oh my God, you are such an incestuous homosexual!” I yelled at Francis.
He looked stunned. I was stunned too; stunned I had just said that out loud.
“No I’m not, I am not incestuous!” Francis denied.
“You just offered to show your younger brother what a hand job was! And you didn’t even deny the gay part.”
“I’m not gay!” Francis said hesitantly.
“What’s gay?” Curtis chimed in.
“I’ll tell you later!” Francis scolded him.
“Oh, of course you will!” I bellowed.
“What is going on out here? Mommy’s trying to get some sleep.” My mother walked in looking half dead.
“Sleep? Its 12:45!” I stated loudly.
“Well I’m very exhausted, you kids wear me out.”
“Us kids wear you out, or the vodka does?” I was fuming.
“Lillian Jean, How dare you say that to me, Go to your room!” She pointed to my room.
I was surprised she actually punished me. I got up and stormed off to my room.
“Oh and Lily on your way there make sure you don’t accidentally take advantage of my boyfriend, again,” Nadine shot out.
“UGH!” I yelled, “I had to be switched at birth, this family is crazy!”
I slammed my door and locked it. I was breathing hard and was so heated. I slid down to the floor and just started crying hysterically. My whole body shook with each sob. I couldn’t even help it, I just wanted to let all my emotions out and I guess that was how my body decided to do it. My throat was noticeably soar, had I actually yelled that much and that loud? Who even cared? I wished Bobbi were here, she’d understand. Ah fuck my life.
I managed to stop crying enough to get up and throw myself onto my bed. I calmed down and was about to fall asleep when I head my closet door sliding open. I looked over confused and there appeared Betsy.
“What the hell were you doing in my closet?” I asked her.
She ignored my question. “What just happened?”
“You mean you didn’t hear anything?”
“Well Nadine is a bitch and Francis is a queer and mom is a raging alcoholic.”
“I know that.”
“I thought you didn’t hear anything.”
“For what?” I asked.
“You got stuck with us.”
“Its not your fault, Bets.”
“I dunno, God?”
“Exactly,” she smirked.
It creped me out how advanced Betsy was for a kindergartener.
“Why did you touch Ty?” Betsy questioned me.
“Well I did, but not on purpose.”
“Because he told me that there were cigarettes under the covers and I grabbed for some.”
“Because he’s a jerk.”
“No, why did you think there would be cigarettes under the covers on his body?”
“I don’t know, I just wanted a cig.”
“What are you getting at Betsy?”
“Nothing,” she said sheepishly.
The topic was dead.
“So, what were you doing in my closet?”
“Talking to the dark side.”
Betsy got up and walked out of my room without forgetting her hairless Barbie she had now named Lucy. The name Lucy was chosen because it was like the girl version of Lucifer.
Betsy, although the youngest and weirdest McBride child, was by far the smartest. She spoke beyond her years and didn’t even notice it. She was right about God, it was his fault that I was in this fucking family from Crazy-Ville, or at least it was easy to blame him for it. Maybe that’s why Betsy worshipped Satan, she felt like God let her down too much. Maybe that was looking into her psyche too much. The affair, the break up, Pam, Fay. All let downs that could’ve been prevented if God had given a shit about us.
But she was definitely wrong about Tyrone. He had totally caught me in a trap; I had no idea he was referring to his “package” when he asked me to reach in the covers. There very well could’ve been a box of cigarettes underneath the covers that day. I didn’t have a choice.
Oh God, was I rationalizing for my actions now? Did I self-consciously know that he didn’t have a smoke in his bed? Was I secretly intrigued by the thought of being intimate with Tyrone? I shuttered to think I was turning into my sister, or worse, my mother. No absolutely not! Tyrone tricked me and that was that. PERIOD.
Mother Mary make me pure, please.