Its three months since Brody has left town and life drags on. Slowly. I miss him so much and Emhart County seems empty. I no longer get the blocked calls where nobody speaks. I miss that too.
It doesn’t help that Lanie has a wonderful boyfriend and that they are so much in love. How she snagged a guy like Matt, I will never know. He’s good-looking – blue eyes, dark brown hair, tall, muscular, a full set of white teeth that is always on display.
Even better than that – he’s really nice to everyone. He’s polite and respectful and eager to help everyone with …anything!
Even better than that – he’s extremely loving, affectionate and very attentive to Lanie. Ever heard that term “worship the ground she walks on”? Yeah, well, that’s Matt. He worships the ground Lanie walks on. And …he’s not too macho to do it in public.
Even better than that – he sends her flowers, teddy bears, and spoils her with romantic weekends away. Texts her several times a day that he loves her.
That’s it. There’s no more “even betters”. Lanie’s got more than she should. More than she deserves.
I’m jealous. No trying to hide it – I tell Lanie straight out, “Lanie, I’m jealous. Wish I had a guy like Matt. He’s lovely. You should keep this one.”
“Isn’t he just?” Lanie gushes. “Everyone is so jealous of me. You should see the envy on my friends’ faces. Priceless.” She beams as she offers me that bit of information. Like Dawn McGraw, she thrives on their jealousy it seems. Ah, well, I would too if I was her.
As for Daisy, she is seething. Furious that Lanie could get someone so perfect. Especially since her boyfriend just dumped her for one of her friends.
“Well, let me know if he’s got a younger brother,” I say.
About two months after she meets Matt, Lanie bursts into the house one Saturday night, hits the off button on Carlene’s boom box and silences Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Heard It Through The Grapevine. She holds up her hand and wriggles her fingers. “Matt’s asked me to marry him!” she screeches.
I look at the bling on her ring finger. “It’s beeeeautiful!” I say, breathless with envy.
“And …. and…” Lanie’s eyes are bright with excitement, “he drew a heart on the beach, made us step into it, then went on bended knee and said, ‘Lanie, will you marry me?’ Can you believe it?”
“Wow! Congratulations! You sure are a lucky bitch!”
Yeah, you fucking bitch!
“Who turned off my music?” Carlene yells as she charges into the lounge.
“Hey, hey, hey!” I say. “Lanie’s got news.”
Lanie does the Beyonce things where she lifts up her left hand and jerks it around.
“Awww, that’s so nice,” Carlene says, forgetting all about Creedence and their grapevine.
I turn around to look at Matt, Lanie’s boyfriend of just two months. “You did good, Matt.” I lunge at him and give him a brief hug. “Wish someday some boy gets on his knees and proposes to me.”
Fucking skank! Show off. “It’s nice, Lanie,” Daisy says. I sneak a glance at Daisy. She looks like she swallowed sand.
Carlene gives Lanie a hug, then Matt. “Burn is right, you did very good,” she says.
Matt shifts around, a grin on his face. Aw shucks!
“We want to get married before the end of the year,” Lanie says.
Lanie’s twenty, Matt’s around the same age. Way too young to get hitched in my opinion, but …
“That’s in six months,” I remind her. “It’ll fly.”
“We can do it. I’m taking a second job so I can save up money for the wedding. We already discussed cake and flowers and stuff.” Her eyes shine as she talks.
“Really?” Carlene says. “Then I gotta get me a dress sometime soon.”
Maybe I can get Lanie’s bedroom? Yeah, I could really clean it up and put up my posters and wow! That would be awesome. “Eh, where you guys gonna stay?”
Lanie shrugs. “Not sure…”
“You guys can stay here,” Carlene says. “Lanie’s room.”
No! No! No! Carlene, shut the fuck up, Aunt Carlene. How could you do this to me? I want their goddamn bedroom!
“Really?” Matt asks.
“Sure,” Carlene says. “Till you save enough money to move on your own and everything.”
Lanie frowns. “No, I don’t think …”
“One less thing to worry ’bout, right Matt?” Carlene says.
“For sure,” Matt says and looks at Lanie. “Till we save some money, baby?”
What the fuck? He’s actually considering living here? Is he blind? Hello!
Lanie scratches her head. I want to get out of here, Matt. Don’t you get it?
“Whaddyasay, Lanie?” Matt asks. Yes? Yes? Say yes.
“I guess …” Lanie finally says, appearing weary.
Matt smiles and gives her a thirty minute kiss while we all look on. Then he turns to Carlene. “Thanks, Carlene.” (Well, it felt like thirty minutes.)
“You’re welcome, Matt.” Carlene says. You sexy thing, you.
I watch this, unable to believe how my personal Titanic went down. Fuuuuck!
****
Afraid of detention, I sneak out of school and hurry home during the middle of the day to fetch my History assignment. As I walk towards my house, I see Matt’s car parked a few blocks away from my house. Wonder what’s he doing here? Lanie must have skipped work today. I enter and make my way to my room. As I do, I hear sounds emanating from Carlene’s room. Moans and groans – like she’s in pain. I pause outside her closed door and call softly. “Carlene?”
No answer. I open the door and gasp at the sight of Matt’s ass. Underneath him is Carlene, buck naked, her legs wrapped around his waist. Stunned, I stand and stare. Lanie and Matt are getting married!
It’s a while before Carlene notices me. “What the fuck, Burn?!” she cries and tries to untangle herself from him.
“Oh shit!” Matt hops off the bed and scrambles for his pants.
“Sorry!” I say. “Sorry, I …I knocked … you didn’t answer. Sorry. Sorry!” I quickly shut the door on his erection, his white ass, and run into my room. Shit! Shit! Shit!
This cannot be happening. Lanie’s mother and boyfriend? No way. This is so fucking Springer!
In my room, I sit on my bed and try to get my bearings. I’m dreaming for sure. Damn!
I hear the front door open and close. Shortly thereafter, Carlene stands at the entrance of my room in a short dressing gown and eyes me. In one hand is a cigarette and the other is a beer. After a couple of long drags, she speaks. “It’s just sex. It meant nothing.”
I nod, my eyes on the ground.
“Lanie doesn’t have to know.”
More nodding on my part.
She takes another drag, then blows smoke rings slowly into the air. “We don’t wanna upset the wedding plans now, do we?” Her voice is cool, but unmistakably threatening. “She’s paid for the cake, the florist …”
“Sure,” is all I say. What I really want to say: Are you fucking kidding me, you cock-sucking ho?
You should be worried about how much Lanie, your daughter, will hurt if she found out, more than the fucking florist and the CAKE! And you’re her mother - how the hell can you do something like this to her? She’s getting married in just three months, for crying out loud. She’s working two fucking jobs to make her dreams come true, and you’re her mother and this is what you do to her? Your own daughter? Did I repeat myself here? I did? Well, I’ll say it again, ’cause you need to be reminded, you lousy ho! And who the fuck is ‘we’, you nasty dream crusher?”
With a nod, she goes into the bathroom. Furious with her for destroying my dreams of snagging a guy like Matt, a perfect man, I take the opportunity to nip into her bedroom, help myself to a couple of Marlboros and pinch a twenty from her purse.
Feeling a little better, I grab my books and head back to school.
Poor Lanie. She thinks all her friends are envious over her and she revels in it. How wrong is she!
****
“Hurry up!” we say as Tina struggles with the lock.
“Okay,” she says and continues picking. Finally, she’s got Fung’s door opened.
Once inside, we sit on the floor in Fung’s apartment and pass around a joint.
“You should tell Lanie,” Laura says. “She deserves to know.”
“Yeah, but, what if it’s just a once-off thing?” Tina says.
“Then you’ve ruined her wedding, her plans, all because of one fleeting indiscretion? One?”
“What’s a fleeting indiscretion?” Sultana asks. “And do you have to use such big words when we’re stoning?”
“How do you know that it is? A fleeting indiscretion?” Tina asks, ignoring Sultana’s justified outburst.
“Fuck knows if it is. It’s the first time I caught them together.”
“She may whip the messenger?” Laura says.
“Everybody will end up whipping the messenger,” I say. “Unless I do it anonymously?”
“Great idea!” they chorus.
“But Carlene will know it was you.”
“That’s true,” I say.
“But she can’t help it if she’s a kleptomaniac,” Sultana says.
We all squint at her.
“You mean nymphomaniac?” Laura asks.
“What’s the difference?” Sultana asks.
“Well, Sultana, kleptomaniacs steal, nymphos need sex all the …”
“Well,” says Sultana, “she’s both for sure, then. She stole her daughter’s boyfriend and …”
My phone beeps. I whip it out and look at the screen. “Trojan,” I mutter to their expectant faces.
“What does he want?”
“Wants to know if I can do a movie this Saturday.”
“And?” Sultana asks.
I shrug. “Let’s keep him waiting.” I put my phone back into my pocket.
“Treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen, eh?’ Tina says.
“For sure,” I say. “He’s got tons of dough and he splurges so why not hang around, eh?” I don’t mean it, but I feel pressured to be bitchy about him.
“Yeah, true,” Laura says. “How much is your virginity worth?”
“It’s priceless,” I say. “He can take my vijajay, but I will just imagine it’s Brody on top of me the whole time. But I will say, ooooh Trojan, I just love your manhood, oooh!”
“Can you pleeeeease insert one of your dreads into my love canal?” Tina says.
We all laugh our weeded heads off.
Stoned, we help ourselves to noodles, clean up behind us so that he doesn’t realize we broke into his apartment, and leave Fung’s apartment quietly.
****
I understand that I have a lot to lose and that she has a lot to lose, so I say nothing to Lanie about her cheating ass husband-to-be. After all, it may have been, as Laura called it, a fleeting indiscretion.
Anyways, these days Lanie’s turning into one of those Godzilla Brides –you know where they go nuts and disinvite everybody to their weddings and everyone hates them just before the wedding, including the groom, and minutes after the ceremony, they become their old loving self again, but it’s too late – they’ve lost all their friends and family and the groom feels like one of his nuts have been cut off? That one.
“Why can’t the fucking bridesmaids understand that avocado-fucking-green and green are two different FUCKING colors?! I ask for fucking bandage dresses, they get fucking flare. I ask for fucking pewter, they get fucking silver. FUCKING idiots! I am changing my fucking bridesmaids. NOW!”
The bandage obsession is going to lead to her downfall one of these days, I tell you.
Quickly, I usher Angel into our bedroom and shut the door. Don’t want her to come Lanie’s way. Any moment now, I expect her to combust and burn down our trailer.
“I said, ‘marble’ not ‘fruitcake’ you fruitcake!” she yells into the phone. “I want my money back. I’m going to another bakery for my wedding cake, you dumb ASSHOLES!”
It could also be the no-carb diet she’s on. Wonder what will happen if I toss her some pasta? Or a slice of white, over-processed, over-refined, but incredibly tasty bread roll? The kind I like with pure butter on it.
Maybe Polly just needs a cracker.
Then Daisy makes the cardinal mistake by asking her to relax.
“Relax? RelAAAAAAAX?! Nobody’s asked you to marry them, and you don’t have a wedding to plan, so I don’t expect your ass to understand shit!”
“Don’t you fucking yell at me!” Daisy says.
“That’s it! You’re not invited to my wedding anymore. I’m taking your name off the list.” She fumbles into her bag, grabs a piece of paper and a pen and makes a striking motion. “Done!”
“Yeah, well fuck you! I don’t need to attend your broke-ass, trailer-trash wedding anyway.”
“What … did … you … say?”
Cheating-ass Matt steps in. “Lanie, Lanie, Lanie, baby,” he says in a gentle voice. “Calm down, honey.” He puts his hands on either side of her face and looks deep into her eyes. “What is it, baby? Tell me? I’ll fix it. Tell me, baby. Tell Matt.”
If I hadn’t seen his firm, pasty ass next to Carlene’s flabby naked ass, I would have continued believing that he is the sweetest, most loving uncircumcised dick in the world. Eh, guy in the world.
Lanie deflates like the soufflé I once attempted. “God, Matt, you’re what keeps me sane, baby,” Lanie says as Matt hugs her to him and showers her with kisses.
Mental note to my disgusted self: Nice guys don’t exist.
If ever you find a nice guy that is just perfect in every way and you’re sure your family will adore him; just walk up to him and kick him in the nuts. Hard. Make sure you’re wearing hooker-heels ’cause they wear those shoes for a reason.
And when he’s curled up in a ball on the floor in pain and says, “Why did you do that, baby?” You say, “Darling, that’s for fucking my mother/sister/cousin/teacher/cleaner/friend. An advance baby boy. Nothing personal.”
Cos he will. Trust me. I have seventeen years’ experience here.
The funny thing is that when Matt looks at me, there is absolutely no remorse on his face. Zilch. Even his thoughts aren’t remorseful or afraid. It’s like he’s detached from his cheating. I have no idea what to make of a character like that. I think maybe I should talk to Erro about it.
When Matt leaves, Lanie gets ready for her second job. She looks overworked and exhausted and right now, even though she’s a bitch, I can’t help but feel really sorry for her.
Even though I’m only seventeen, I worry what’s gonna happen to her when she finds out about her mother sleeping with her soon-to-be husband. “Hey, Lanie,” I ask, “do you like … you wanna a cup of coffee or something?”
“Coffee?” She swivels around to glare at me. “Coffee?! What the fuck, Burn?! Don’t you know that caffeine slows down your metabolic rate? HUH?!”
I shrink back at the flame she threw at me.
“What the hell’s wrong with you, Burn?” Fucking fat, stupid black bitch!
I sigh and back away slowly. As Judge Judy always says, “No good deed goes unpunished.”
****
It’s hard to be happy and cheerful when I miss Brody so much. But I try because I have no choice. Today is the much awaited wedding. I help Angel into a lovely, cream lacy dress, one of Daisy’s hand-me-downs. I then slip a headband with a white rose on it, over her lovely blonde curls.
“You look like a princess,” I say.
She smiles. “Can I wear lip gloss?”
I hesitate for a moment. “Okay, just gloss. Don’t you grow up too fast now.”
When she’s done, I take her hand in mine and flit from room to room.
Daisy looks great as a bridesmaid. Her dress is a bandage avocado (not green) and pewter (not silver), which is an amazing combination. (Got to hand it to Lanie – she has style.) Her hair has been spiralled into tight curls and her make-up has been professionally done. Her pewter shoes match the pewter detail on her dress.
“You look nice,” I say.
“Do I?” I hate this dress. I hate it! Hate it! Hate it! It makes me look like a fucking defrosted string bean. Lanie just wanted me to wear this dress so she could torture me. Anyway, what do you know, you country bumpkin?
Suddenly, she no longer looks pretty. She looks hard and even harsh.
We move to Carlene. She’s wearing a strapless, short dress in ….white! Lanie’s gonna blow a gasket now.
Speak of the Bridezilla – here she comes. Be afraid.
She gawks at the sight of her mother. “You are not wearing …THAT dress!” Told you so.
“Why? What do you mean?” Carlene looks genuinely surprised.
Lanie bristles with anger. “You want to upstage me, mother?”
“What? No, I don’t, Lanie.”
“Then where’s the Aubergine one you bought?”
Talk about Aubergine makes me think of Brody. Damn, can’t they watch their words around me?
“Time to go, Lanie,” someone shouts, saving Carlene’s ass.
“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper to Angel and lead her outside to the waiting cars.
The wedding is beautiful. Lanie looks breathtakingly beautiful, Matt looks dashing, and the flowers, the cake – beautiful.
Even Carlene looks beautiful and thankfully, she stays away from Matt and all the young boys.
The wedding vows bring tears to my eyes.
Especially cheating-ass Matt’s. He looks into Lanie’s eyes and promises to love and cherish her in sickness and in health and then he adds his own shit about making her banana smoothies and some other random but cheesy promises.
Then he lifts her off the ground as they kiss with tongue for an hour. (Well, that’s how long it felt. The hour, not the tongue.)
It’s so moving and so touching that I wonder if maybe, just maybe, I hallucinated the whole Carlene-Matt thing after all. I mean, he sounds so sincere that his eyes get glassy and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down?
Trouble is, I saw what I saw and I wasn’t high when I did.
But as I said, wear hooker heels when you kick him in the balls.