like if he builds enough new
neighborhoods, he might actually
find a life partner in one of them.
Conspicuously absent is Hannah,
who helped pull this shindig
together. Guess my big mouth
made her fade into the background,
at least until Mom takes off again.
In hindsight, it was amazingly
stupid to delete her from this
complicated equation. Idiotic.
Oh. Wait. Here she comes.
Glass in hand, Daddy
glances at the new arrival.
His first reaction is to smile
widely. Then he notices Mom,
weaving through guests on the far
side of the room, and his smile
slips ever so slightly. Hannah waves,
and Daddy moves toward her.
Mom misses nothing, though she
doesn’t miss a beat of conversation.
But when Daddy reaches Hannah’s
side, takes her arm, Mom starts
in their direction. This evening
might get interesting after all.
I Angle Closer
The last catfight I witnessed
was my own, with Madison.
This one should prove more fun.
But, no, Mom remains the steadfast
politician. She extends a hand.
So lovely to see you again. Ray?
Please get Hannah something to drink.
Too subtly for the untrained eye
to notice, she extricates Hannah
from Daddy, who ambles toward
the bar like a half-trained puppy,
glancing back for trainer approval.
I move even closer, knowing
Mom is not about to leave
things up in the air. I am so right.
I hear you helped organize this
evening, she says. Thank you
so much. Then, smile slipping not
one inch, she lowers her voice.
I also hear the two of you have
become rather close. I do hope
you understand the nature of
politics. Scandal will not
be tolerated. My people will
see to that. Perhaps a mutual
decision to move on with
your separate lives is wise.
Mom pauses, but Hannah gives no
immediate response. I wait for
a threat. Instead Mom offers a bribe.
I’ve told my personal assistant
to see what he can do about
your outstanding student loans.
Hannah remains quiet for several
seconds, as the weight of Mom’s
words sinks in. She glances over
at Daddy, who has found her
a glass of champagne. He smiles,
but she doesn’t dare smile back.
Before he can rejoin her, she
meets Mom’s steady gaze.
And all she says is, I understand.
She’s In Over Her Head
And she 100 percent knows it. Mom will kick her
figurative butt if she chooses to disregard the overt
warning. Instead, play it smart, come out way, way
ahead. Mom, of course, is truly the smart one.
Give Hannah a way out, but make it clear
she’d better latch onto it. Run with it. Run.
Funny, because, wrapped up in my
own little corner of the universe,
I always thought it was Daddy
who carried the power here.
Now I see how wrong
I was. Now I see why
he wields such a big
stick when Mom
isn’t around. It’s
the only way he
can feel like
even half a
man.
Daddy Returns
Offers her the glass of bubbly.
I keep my back half to them, at
a respectful distance, but close
enough to successfully eavesdrop.
Daddy doesn’t notice me
at all. So what did she have
to say? he asks. I assume
she issued some sort of threat?
A glance over my shoulder
reveals Hannah, sipping Dom
and scanning the room. She
said to take a hike. What else?
I see. Daddy clears his throat.
And do you plan to take orders
from my wife? Depending on
what happens tonight, she’ll—
You said the magic word, Ray—
wife. I’ve always known this would
be a temporary fling. This is
probably a good time to end it.
She hands her glass to Daddy,
kisses him softly on the cheek,
starts out the door. He looks like
he’s going to follow her, but…
Just Then Someone Turns Up
The volume on the television,
where regular programming
has been interrupted for an
election update. The polls
closed
hours ago and returns trickle
in. In the Twenty-fourth U.S. Congressional
District, Kay Gardella currently
leads with 52 percent of the vote.
That comes as little surprise
to me,
of course. A cheer goes up
in the room. Unless there’s
a major turnaround, Mom’s
got it in the bag. Looks very
much like we’ve lost her
for good.
I look at Daddy, who is torn
between running after Hannah
and strutting beside his wife,
the likely congresswoman.
Guess who wins out. Hannah’s
gone,
he’s still here, where the votes
are. I so despise politics. Pit
them against family. Pit them
against love. The Game conquers,
always.
Raeanne
By Midnight
Mom is declared the official
winner. Everyone toasts, a final
round of good cheer before the bar is
closed
for the night. Oops. Make that
morning. I decide to join them.
One more before beddy-bye.
Despite several champagnes,
sleep will not come easily
to me,
not tonight. I might have to
tap into my pill stash. I ignore
the well-wishers and reporters,
go to the window. Hannah’s lights
are out. Wonder if that’s over
for good,
or if Daddy will coax her back.
If I were the type to wager,
I’d place my bet on Mom.
Especially now, despite the fact
that before we know it, she’ll be
gone,
off to DC for the foreseeable
(and perhaps unforeseeable) future.
Who cares? She’s not here, even
when she is here, now and
always.
Kaeleigh Has Withdrawn
From the party, crawled away
somewhere to sulk and cry.
Not me. Fuck it. The more
Mom’s gone, the less the stress.
Always plenty of that, nibbling
away at us. Who needs more?
And hey, now that this election
is over, no more good behavior.
Ha! Like I’ve behaved so well
over the past eleven months.
And, really, with elections every two
years, I’ve only got a year to be bad.
But incumbents generally have
the upper hand, so no worries.
Shit, if I don’t quit conversing with
myself, they’ll institutionalize me.
I’m not conversing with myself out loud,
am I? Okay, where’s the champagne?
I Finally Limp
Off to bed
around two.
No school
tomorrow,
I figure.
We’ll still
be celebrating.
At least Mom
definitely will.
I’m celebrating
pretty good
right now, on
two Oxy and
enough bubbly
to give me
hiccups for days.
Oh yeah, I’m
floating, okay.
But I don’t like
how it feels. I
desperately want
solid ground.
Like I’ve ever
even once in
my life stood
on solid ground.
The Telephone Wakes Me
It has rung incessantly, but not
enough, it seems, to wake Mom
and Daddy, who partied well
into the wee hours of morning.
Their phones are likely unplugged.
I drag myself from beneath
the covers, head pounding.
“Coming, damn it,” I call.
Fighting an amazing hangover,
I reach the idiotic phone. “Hello?”
A very long pause precedes,
Hello. This is your grandmother.
Another very long pause.
Long enough for anger to
blossom inside my traitor head.
“Oh, really? Well, it’s a little
late now, don’t you think?”
Come on, you old bitch…
Excuse me? A little late for
what, exactly? Who is this?
I can’t believe I’m rising like this.
Who cares, anyway? Loyalty
to my parents? Definitely not me.
Still, I continue, “A little late to ask
for money. The election’s over.”
Yes, I realize that. But why on
earth would I ask for money?
Who told you that, anyway?
“Your ex-husband. He told us
you wanted hush money.”
My ex-husband? Ted? But
why…? W-well, young lady…
A voice, heavy and masculine,
falls over my shoulder. Who
is that? Daddy. Of course.
I turn to face him, and what I see
in his eyes chills me to my core.
Don’t dare lie. “It’s your mother.”
Daddy Grabs the Phone
Out of my hand, and his intensity
makes me back quickly away.
If he lashes out, I don’t want
to be standing in his path.
But no, he’s relatively collected.
This is Raymond. May I ask
exactly why you’ve been
bothering my family with calls?
I can’t hear her response, but
Daddy’s posture goes from
wood to pulp. It’s like he
shrunk sizes. Shrunk years.
He’s a small boy, and he’s found
his mommy again, only he doesn’t
like the idea. Everyone is just fine.
Thanks for your misplaced concern.
Whatever she’s saying now hits
like hammer blows. His breath
comes in short, stuttered bursts,
and his teeth crunch together.
I couldn’t care less about your
“programs.” I will never forgive
you, and you will never be welcome
in this house. Good-bye, Mother.
Unable to Guess
What he’ll do next, I start to
retreat toward the kitchen.
Daddy pounces, fists clenched.
Why did you answer that?
If he weren’t so angry, I’d have
a smart-ass comeback. But as it
is, I play humble. “It kept ringing,
so I thought it might be important.”
He draws right up against me.
What did she say to you?
“Nothing. Only that she wasn’t
calling to ask for money.”
His muscles relax, but only
a little. Are you sure that’s all?
“Yes, Daddy, that’s all.” I finally
chance looking into his eyes,
and this time what I find isn’t
anger. It’s—can this be right?
Yes, I’m right. It’s fear.
The Bad Thing About Fear
Is it requires a reaction. Some hide.
Some cry. But, like a dog condemned
to a walled yard with no hope
of escape or affection, some learn
to bite. Daddy is a fear biter.
Lucky for me, Mom seems to sense
the approaching maul and comes to
my rescue. Good morning. Much too
cheerful. Her head rocks back and
forth between us. What’s going on?
into the moment. Seems my
prodigal mother managed to get
one of her calls answered this
morning. I took care of it, though.
The congresswoman-elect
searches my face for some
kind of sign. Are you okay?
At my nod, she detours Daddy.
May I speak with you for a moment?
They withdraw to the bedroom
and I hustle into the bathroom,
determined to reach there before
last night’s champagne and this
morning’s turmoil escape my belly.
The Bad Thing About Puking Regularly
Is how you come to rely on it.
Hungover? Go puke.
Feel a bit fat? Go puke.
Confused? Go puke.
Frightened? Go puke.
Entire world falling apart?
Hurry up and go puke.
All of the above?
Puke.
Puke.
Puke.
Puke.
And puke some more.
Totally Puked Out
Esophagus acid-etched,
I’m ready to face the day.
Not.
Despite the insulation
of two closed doors and
a hallway,
I can hear Mom and Daddy
screaming insults at each
other.
I want her to leave now,
leave us within the solace
of silence.
I so need to get high. But Mick,
I’m guessing, is no longer
an option.
And that basically leaves one
person I can ask for a buzz.
Ty.
I Dial His Number
Get only his voice mail.
Leave a subtle message.
“Please call back as soon
as you get this. I so need
to hook up with you.”
Sounded a bit desperate
there. And guess what?
I am. Downers are okay,
I guess, but it’s not like
you really enjoy the buzz.
Mostly, you sleep through
it. What fun is that?
Besides, I need to feel
desirable, not like a piece
of furniture, something
you can sit on. Something
that belongs to my mom
or my daddy. I need to feel
like somebody wants me,
even if he wants me for
all the wrong reasons.
Mostly, I just need to feel.
But If Ty Wants Me
He’s playing hard to get.
Hours pass without a word. I
almost wish I would have
gone to school. I wish Mom
or Daddy would have asked
why
I didn’t go, but apparently
they’re both so wrapped up
in themselves (and wrapped
around each other’s throats),
it was too much effort to even
notice.
All I can think about are two
things. One: Ty calling to say
he’s on his way to pick me up,
take me home, and spend
hours doing crazy things with
me,
insane things that will carry
us all the way down into hell,
and maybe, just maybe, back up
again. And two: this morning’s
phone call. If not for money, why
did my grandmother bother to call
at all?
Kaeleigh
Three Days
Since the election and things
have finally settled down.
Mom left for DC this morning.
She and I still have no clue