She looked at me.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hi.”
“Are you a baby-sitter?”
“No,” I said, laughing.
“I don’t need a baby-sitter. I have Cissy,” she informed me, but mostly informed Del, and then hurried out of the room, carrying a limp rag doll in her arms.
I looked at the small bedroom Patty Girl shared with Shawn. The wallpaper was pealing. The windowsill looked caked with dust, the windows cloudy. There was a wooden floor with a rug between the two beds, each bed unmade. Clothing was strewn about, over chairs, over the dresser, and on the bed. I could see there were garments dangling awkwardly from hangers in the closet.
“You don’t have to hang around,” Del said. “Thanks for the ride.”
“I don’t mind,” I said, and he looked at me as if I had gone crazy. “What are you making them for dinner?”
“They love macaroni and cheese, and it’s no big deal to make.”
“Where’s your mother?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” he said. “She’ll come home and tell me she was looking for a job and lost track of time or something like that.”
He went into the kitchen, and for a moment, I had trouble swallowing. Dishes were piled up beside the sink, which was filled with pots. There was a garbage can with paper, wrappers, stained napkins spilling over the edges and on the floor. Used silverware was on the yellow Formica table, the forks and knives caked with old food. One of the chairs had been pulled near the cabinet, obviously to be used as a ladder by Shawn. The cabinet door was opened, and the box of chocolate donuts was on its side.
“She was supposed to clean this place up this morning,” he said, shaking his head. “She probably won’t even remember the promise.”
He sighed deeply.
“Well, let’s get to it,” I told him, and rolled up my sleeves.
He turned with surprise as I began to work on the pots and pans. I smiled back at him.
“Maybe if she sees how nice it can be, she’ll keep it that way,” I said.
“Right. Tell me another fairy tale,” he muttered, and went to the cabinet to get the macaroni and cheese.
Two hours later, I was still working on the kitchen. I had to improvise when it came to cleansers and soaps. They had very little in the pantry. While Del prepared dinner for his little brother and sister, I organized their dishes, cleaned the silverware and put it away, and did my best to wash down the broken linoleum floor. I cleaned the front of the refrigerator and the front of the stove as well, scrubbing out the stains with pure elbow grease. Then I went to work on the cabinets, organizing what they had.
I never thought about the time. I saw Del looking at the clock on the counter and realized he was waiting anxiously for his mother’s return.
“She doesn’t even remember what time I come home from work on days when I go in earlier,” he muttered after Shawn and Patty Girl had eaten and were sitting and watching television. “She couldn’t be sure I’d be back to take care of them, and she’s still not here.”
“Where is she, Del? Don’t you have any idea at all?”
“She has these friends, barflies. I’m sure she’s drunk or high on something somewhere. Someone will dump her off tonight. Usually it’s not a pleasant sight, Teal, so I wouldn’t hang around much longer if I were you. Besides, don’t you have to get home?”
“I’ll just call,” I said, seeing it was already well after six-thirty. Dinner at our house was promptly at seven. It was Saturday night, and my parents were going somewhere for sure, but by now my father surely must know I’m not home, I thought. He would see my empty place at the table and he would look for the Lexus and as my mother often said, he would “go ballistic.”
“Can’t use that phone,” he said, nodding at the one on the wall. “Our service was shut off three days ago. I didn’t know she hadn’t paid the bills for months.”
“Oh. Don’t worry. I have a cell phone in the car,” I said.
“Just go home,” he said despondently.
“What are you going to eat tonight?”
“I don’t know. Eggs,” he said sharply. “Who’s hungry?”
“I’m hungry. Where’s the nearest supermarket?”
“Go home, Teal.”
“I’m all right. Really,” I said. “Besides, it’s Saturday night.”
“Some Saturday night,” he muttered.
“I know. I’ll get us one of those ready-made chickens or something. Where’s the nearest place?”
He told me and gave me directions.
“You sure you want to do this?”
“Absolutely.”
“Slumming, is that it?”
“What do you think?” I fired back at him, my eyes just as hot and fixed on him as his were on mine. He softened and shrugged.
“I don’t think much anymore,” he said.
“So don’t. Just relax. I’ll be right back,” I said.
I rushed out and followed the directions he had given. I thought about calling home, but then thought that if I did, my father would just insist I come right home. I was in trouble as it was, I concluded. Why worry now about how much more I’d be in by not calling and not returning?
Instead, I went to the supermarket and bought the chicken, some easy-to-make frozen vegetables, bread, and a big chocolate cake I was sure Shawn and Patty Girl would like. When I drove back and pulled into Del’s driveway, I knew something was very wrong. The front door was still wide open, and I could hear the kids crying.
Slowly and now nervously, I carried the groceries to the house and hesitated at the door.
“Del?” I called.
“Get outta here,” I heard. “Just go, Teal.” His voice was full of hysteria.
I stood there, shuddering, my feet nailed to the concrete step.
“What’s wrong?” I cried.
I heard a terrible groan. Maybe I should have turned and run. Maybe my whole life would have been different if I had, but I didn’t. I entered the house and looking down the hallway into the kitchen, I saw a woman’s feet and legs on the floor. I hurried down and looked at Del trying to lift his mother, who had obviously passed out.
Shawn and Patty Girl were in the corner, cowering and crying.
“What happened?” I gasped.
“She came home dead drunk and then passed out. She’s done it before.”
“I’ll help you,” I said, and put the bags of groceries on the kitchen table.
His mother was about five feet eight and stout so she was heavy to lift, especially as a dead weight. Her straggly brown hair was over her face. The blouse she wore was stained and missing buttons. Her breasts sagged beneath the flimsy material. We lifted her and together, practically dragging her, brought her to her bedroom, which, although larger than the bedroom Shawn and Patty Girl had, was almost as disheveled and dirty.
After we lowered her to her bed, she moaned. Her eyelids fluttered, her arm jerked up, and then she blew out her lips and went unconscious again.
“Shouldn’t we get her to the hospital?”
“What for? They’d either laugh us out of there or commit her, which might not be a bad idea. Only then, they’d come and take the kids,” he said. “She’ll sleep it off and in the morning she won’t remember any of it, believe me,” he said with disgust. “C’mon.”
We left the bedroom. I looked back. She did seem dead to the world. He closed the door and turned his attention to Shawn and Patty Girl.
“Stop crying!” he ordered. “She’s just sleeping, just like you two have to be doing.”
Shawn had his arm around Patty Girl, who clutched herself.
“Oh, Del, they’re so scared.”
“Tell me about it,” he said.
I went to them and helped calm them down. Then he and I put them to bed.
“I’ve got a beautiful chocolate cake for you two,” I told them. “Tomorrow, you can eat it, okay?”
Shawn nodded.
“And Cissy, too,” Patty Girl said.
“Of course,” I told her. She smiled and then turned over to close her eyes.
One moment they were in abject terror and the next, they were closing their eyes and hoping for a candy-cotton dream world.
Where were they drifting to? I wondered. We weren’t all so unlike, despite the difference in wealth. However, there was no denying that this was a more serious case of neglect than any I could ascribe to myself. It made me think I should stop wallowing in my own self-pity.
Del sat at the kitchen table, his body slumping in defeat.
“I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up,” he said. “They’ve been coming around threatening to take Shawn and Patty Girl away. Maybe they would be better off. Maybe I should stop pushing string uphill, huh?”
“No, they need you,” I told him.
He looked up at me, and then his face softened.
“Hey, thanks for all you did. You’re tougher than I thought you were.”
“What did you think I was?”
“A poor little rich girl being tortured with expensive clothes and private schools, forced to go on expensive vacations with her parents,” he recited.
“You’re exactly right, especially the tortured part.”
He laughed and looked at the bags of groceries.
“You bought all this?”
“Yes, and I’m still hungry. Help me make dinner,” I ordered. He saluted and we began. Somehow, despite the scene of horror we had just gone through, we had fun doing it, and I couldn’t remember enjoying a meal more.
Afterward, he helped me clean up and then we sat in his living room and talked. He told me about his father and how he became so disgusted with his mother that he just upped and left them one day.
“I was only twelve when he did it the first time, but I remember thinking he was weak. He moaned and groaned about how she was killing him and how he couldn’t stand it anymore. This last time, there was no doubt in my mind he wasn’t coming back. ‘Maybe after I leave and really stay away, she will see how serious it all has become and then she will straighten out,’ he told me. He knew she wouldn’t, but he didn’t care. I hope he’s just as unhappy wherever he is, and I hope it’s hell.”
What could I say? Could I tell him I often felt as alone? Looking around his home and seeing what he had to contend with, I couldn’t imagine him understanding how someone who lived in what was practically a palace and had maids and servants and beautiful things could ever be discontented. In fact, suddenly, despite the warm time we had spent with each other, he glared at me angrily.
“So now you see how the other half lives,” he muttered. “You can go home and be thankful.”
“For your information, Del Grant, my life is not a bowl of cherries. My parents never wanted me and, despite themselves, can’t keep it a secret. My mother and I have little in common, and my father favors my brother and treats me like a stepchild. I practically have to make an appointment to see him. The only thing that gets his attention is my getting into trouble.”
“Is that why you do it?”
“Maybe. Maybe I’m just bored,” I said.
He smiled.
“Okay. I’ll pretend you’re just as unlucky as I am,” he said.
We stared at each other, and then we both broke into a laugh and he leaned over right in the middle of mine and planted a soft kiss on my lips. It took me completely by surprise, and I stopped laughing. His eyes were so close to mine, I thought we could look into each other’s very souls. We kissed again, this time with his arms around my waist. It was a long, demanding kiss that seemed to reach into the center of my heart. A warm glow curled around me. When he lifted his lips, I brought mine back to them. After we parted, he stood up without speaking and took my hand so I would stand up.
We walked slowly to his bedroom. He didn’t put on any lights. At the side of his bed, we kissed again and he began to undress me. I stood there like a princess who was dressed and undressed every day by her servant. I was totally nude before he undid a single button of his own. He lowered me to his bed and we lay side by side, kissing softly, his hands exploring my body, making it come alive and tingle until I thought I would go mad with my wet desire.
“Last chance to escape,” he whispered.
“My last chance was out there in the living room,” I told him, and he laughed and undressed.
Was it reckless to make love like that, to not think of any consequences?
Yes, but I wanted to be reckless. I think that not only surprised him, but frightened him a bit as well.
“Hey,” he said. “You’re not thinking about tomorrow.”
“I thought it was tomorrow,” I said with a smile.
He laughed, but he leaned over, opened a drawer, and prepared protection.
He came at me again and we made love and clung to each other just like the two drifting lost souls we were, finding safety only in our lovemaking, in the height of excitement we gave each other. Every cry of ecstasy, every explosion inside us reassured us we had a reason to be.
The darkness we lived in fell away like an old, rotted curtain and left us standing in the light, holding hands, waiting for that tomorrow full of promises to drown our disappointments.
Afterward, we fell asleep beside each other, his arm under my breasts, his face turned to me so that his breath warmed my neck.
I was unaware of how much time had spilled, but like milk, I didn’t cry over it.
Of course, I was about to learn that I should have.
5
Brothers and Sisters
“It’s two in the morning!” Del announced.
He had woken and turned on a lamp. The light blinded me for a few moments.
“What?”
“We fell asleep. I’m sorry. It’s two in the morning. You’re probably going to be in big trouble.”
“I’m used to it,” I said, sitting up and grinding the grogginess out of my eyes with balled fists. I looked about the room, trying to gather my wits. Then I smiled at him. “Hi,” I said.
He laughed.
“You’re crazy. C’mon. Get up and get dressed before the cavalry arrives.”
“Don’t worry about it. They would never do that. They couldn’t stand the embarrassment of any bad publicity,” I told him, but started to dress.
“You haven’t done anything like this before, have you? I mean, stay over a boy’s house without their knowing?”
“No, I didn’t stay, but I went to a party I shouldn’t have gone to when I was in the ninth grade. It was a party for seniors and I got drunk. They found out I was with a senior boy that night, too.”
“What happened?”
“I made love or let him. It was my first time, so I wasn’t really in any sort of control. I think I was just trying to shock my mother. I even told her what I had done.”
“You told her?”
I slipped my blouse over my head and pulled it down.
“Well, I came to her and I told her I thought I might be pregnant. She never paid more attention to me than she did those weeks. Almost every morning she was there to see if I had gotten my period.”
“What happened?”
“She almost had a nervous breakdown, and she had me swear and promise that I would not tell my father anything. In the end she set up a secret appointment for me with her doctor and I had to confess I had gotten my period.”
“You mean you had and you hadn’t told her?”
“Like I said, as long as she was concerned, she was paying attention to me. She was so relieved when I told her. She didn’t even care how I had been playing with her.”
Del shook his head in disbelief.
“Most of the girls I have known would have done everything they could to keep such a thing from their mothers. They certainly wouldn’t brag about being with an older boy and making love when they were only in the ninth grade.”
He paused and thought a moment, nodding to himsel
f.
“What?”
“You must really hate her,” he said.
That made me pensive.
“I don’t hate her,” I said. “Just the opposite. I wish I had a mother.”
“You and me both,” Del said.
He walked me to the door, pausing at his mother’s bedroom to listen. It was dead quiet.
“She’ll sleep into the late morning and then tell me I’m lying about everything I said happened.”
“I’m sorry about her,” I said. I really meant I was sorry for him and his brother and sister. He nodded and followed me out to the car.
We kissed and I got in and started away. I was more than halfway home when I saw the police car behind me, its bubble light going. I checked my speedometer. I wasn’t speeding. They pulled alongside and waved me off the highway. As soon as I stopped, I heard one of them through the loudspeaker on their vehicle.
“Get out of the vehicle with your hands up,” he ordered.
“What?” I cried.
What was going on?
“Out of the vehicle now!”
Heart pounding, I stepped out and kept my hands up.
“Lie down on the road and put your arms straight up,” I heard.
On the dirty road? I thought. I started to turn to argue when I saw one of the policemen was out of the vehicle and had his pistol drawn and pointed at me. I practically fainted. I went to my knees and then slowly did what they had asked. Moments later, I heard them beside me.
One took my left arm and brought it around behind me, then took my right arm and did the same. The handcuffs were locked on my wrists, and I was told to stand.
“What is this?” I cried.
“This car was reported stolen,” the officer who had put the handcuffs on me said.
“No, it’s my car. It’s my family’s car. I’m—”
“Move,” he ordered, turning me toward their vehicle.
“I’m not lying. Check my purse. Check the registration,” I pleaded.
Without responding, he opened the patrol car’s rear door and guided me into it, closing the door. I watched them search the SUV, and then they returned and got in.
“I’m Teal Sommers. That’s my family’s car!” I screamed when neither of them made any attempt to let me free. “Didn’t you look at my license?”