Big Fat Disaster (14 page)

Mom grimaces, like she wouldn’t have made a smart-ass comment if she’d known my little sister was around. “Aw, honey, not that I know of.”

Drew frowns. “But he knows where we are, right? He’ll be able to find us if he wants to come get us?”

Mom runs her hand over Drew’s long blonde hair, stroking it. She sighs. “Sweetie, I don’t think Daddy’s going to be coming back. But we’ll be okay, we—”

Drew’s huge blue eyes fill with tears. “But—we’re Daddy’s package deal, Mama!”

I snap, “No, we were just dumb enough to believe it when he said it.”

Drew shoots me a look like I’m not making sense. “Mama, does Daddy know where we are or
not
? He
needs
to be able to find us—”

Mom blasts, “He’ll find out when he’s served with divorce papers, Drew Ann! As soon as I get enough money, I’m—”

“You’re getting divorced?” Drew’s voice is squeaky-high. “You’re…getting…divorced?” She bolts from the screened-in porch and races toward our trailer.

Mom sits hard onto a box of books and puts her head in her hands. Her phone rings; she pulls it out of her pocket and tries to answer it. “Missed call. It’s Rachel again.” She sighs. “Leah told me that if I drive up the hill and park next to the
Goats for Sale
sign at the end of the road, the phone will receive a signal. Guess that’s what I’ll do.” She shakes her head a few times and blinks. “What has my life come to?” She rises and heads for the door.

“Mom—”

She stops. “Yes?”

I’m struck by how much older she looks, even though her hair’s pulled back in a ponytail and, as always, she’s wearing full makeup. I want to tell her that everything’s going to be okay, but I can’t. I act like I forgot what I was going to say. “Nothing.”

I dig through my dirty clothes pile and pull the plastic ceiling star that used to glow in the dark from my shorts’ pocket. I stand on my bed, use a piece of clear packing tape to stick the star to the ceiling, and cup my hand around it, hoping it’ll glow even a little bit. I bite my lower lip and pray,
“God, if You’re really there; if You’re going to fix this shitstorm that is my life, make this star glow. Please.”
I cup my hands around that star until my arms go numb.

It may have glowed; I wouldn’t know. I couldn’t see a thing through my tears.

Around 6:00
P.M.
, Ryan knocks on our door. He’s wearing the same scowl from the day before at Sugar’s. He stares so hard at a dent in the siding by the front window that I look at it, too. “Mom sent me over to tell y’all that she’s making burgers to celebrate you moving in, and they’ll be ready at seven.” He looks skyward and sighs. “She said to say, ‘Sorry for the late notice. We would have been home earlier, but we had to deliver a wedding cake.’”

I’m not hungry; I polished off the stuff in my snack stash when Mom was trying to get Drew to calm down about the divorce. But I can’t tell him that. “We haven’t eaten yet. So…thanks.” I glance at him; he still won’t look at me.

Ryan snaps, “Don’t thank
me
; if it were up to me…” He purses his lips, shakes his head, and mumbles, “So…come over at seven.” He reaches for the doorknob and pulls it closed.

Aunt Leah’s jaw drops at the sight of Drew’s swollen eyes and blotchy red face. “Oh, my goodness, honey, are you having a bad day?”

Mom says, “Leah, don’t—” but it’s too late, because Drew starts wailing all over again: “Mama’s going to divorce Daaaaaaadddddy.”

Ryan says sarcastically, “
Why
am I
not surprised
? Pass the mustard.”

Leah frowns. “Ryan—”

He shrugs. “What? It was going to happen eventually.”

I narrow my eyes. “Well, you don’t have to be an ass about it in front of my little sister.”

Aunt Leah puts her hands between us like she’s breaking up a fight. “Come on, y’all. This isn’t an easy time for anybody. We need to focus on supporting each—”

Ryan stands up so fast that our drinks splash onto the table. “
Really
, Mom? The way they’ve helped us out when we need it? The
awesome
support they showed us at the Fourth of July clusterfuck?”

Mom gasps, and he puts his palms on the table and leans into her. “I
don’t
feel sorry for you. Get that? I
love
that your perfect little world is blowing up in your face!” He looks at us like he wants to spit on us. “I’m not hungry.” He starts out of the room.

I blurt, “
I
didn’t say anything to you! On the Fourth of July—I didn’t say
anything
to you!”

Ryan freezes in the doorway and says, “Typical.” He goes to his room and slams the door.

Drew’s sniffling is the only sound anyone makes after Ryan leaves. I lock my eyes on the tray of cupcakes in the center of the table and imagine the wrappers flying off as I inhale them.

Finally, Leah speaks up. “So, Colby, do you think you can start at Sugar’s on Monday? Dulcie’s water broke at work today, so she’s having the baby. I’m going to be short-handed, and I’d like to teach you to decorate cakes.”

I start to tell her that Dad already taught me how, but I see one last chance to keep from having to work at Sugar’s. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Doesn’t school start in a few weeks? Are you sure you want to go through training me when I’ll only be working for a short time?”

Leah looks surprised. “Well, I was hoping you’d come in after school and on Saturdays.”

I picture myself eating spoonful after spoonful of cake icing. I’m simultaneously excited and horrified. “Oh, good! I was hoping you’d say that!”

Sunday morning, I wake to Drew pounding on my door. The door sticks when she opens it, and she nearly falls onto my bed. I manage to open one eye, sit up on my elbows, and glare at her.

“Something’s wrong with Mommy,” she wails.

I spring out of bed and nearly run over my sister. I thud down the long skinny hallway to Mom’s door and try the doorknob. It’s locked. I freak out. “Mom! Mom! Open the door!” I ram my shoulder against the door like I’ve seen people do it in the movies, but the door just makes a splintering sound.

I hear footsteps, fumbling with the lock, then the door swings open. Mom’s rubbing her face—she’s still wearing her clothes and makeup from the day before, and her mascara’s so smeared that she looks like a raccoon.

Her voice is raspy. “Wh-what’s wrong?”

“Are you okay? Drew said there’s something wrong with you!”

Mom blinks, trying to focus on Drew. “Why did you think that?”

I notice for the first time that Drew’s dressed in her church clothes, holding her Bible, and trying not to cry. “It’s Sunday! You
always
get up and make pancakes on Sunday before we go to church!”

Mom shuffles back to her bed and sits on the edge. She bends at the waist with her elbows on her knees and stares at the worn carpet. Drew moves to the bed, leans against her, and softly asks, “Aren’t you going to make pancakes…before church? Aren’t we going to church? We didn’t go last week because you said that everybody at our old church is mad at Daddy. But we could go to that church with the big steeple. It looks nice.”

Mom sighs and shakes her head.

Drew jumps up and stamps her feet. “Why does everything have to change? Is this because you’re getting a divorce?”

Mom takes Drew’s wrist and pulls her back. She yawns. “I’m not ready for meeting new people. I need some time.”

Drew yanks her hand free and stomps to Mom’s bedroom door. “I want to live with Daddy! I don’t want to stay with you! I miss Daddy!”

Mom looks at her dully but says nothing when Drew vanishes into her room and slams the door. A few seconds later, we hear glass shatter.

I get to Drew’s room before Mom does and find her staring slack-jawed at the Bible-sized jagged hole in her bedroom window.

Drew falls to her knees, sobbing. “I want Daddy to come back! Why is he mad at us?”

Mom joins her on the floor and wraps her arms around her. She speaks soothingly, “Oh, honey, Daddy’s not mad at you.”

Drew wraps herself around Mom. “Why did everything have to change?” She throws her head back and wails. “I want my old house! I hate this ugly house with the big black mud bobbers inside it!”

Mom pats her back, rocking her. “I understand, honey, but we won’t be here long. Don’t worry.”

Drew hiccups, “Are…you…sure?”

Mom closes her eyes, nods. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

I’m in the tall grass under Drew’s window, watching out for snakes and carefully placing the pieces of broken glass in a cardboard box. Mom comes around the corner with Leah. Ryan trails behind them, his arms crossed and face scowling as usual.

Leah acts like the broken window is no big deal. “We’ll just tape up some cardboard for now. Accidents happen. Don’t worry about it. When Buzz repairs the steps, I’ll have him replace the glass, too.”

“That’s really nice of you. I’ll pay for the repairs as soon as I get some money.” Mom babbles nervously, “Drew was so upset; she thought that Reese left because he’s angry at her. Can you imagine such a silly thing?”

Ryan snaps, “Like the
real
reason is that much better? My mom left my dad because he was an abusive prick, but that doesn’t matter to you guys, apparently. What: Mom was supposed to keep letting him do it until he killed her?”