I was bummed and hid in the backseat of the car. I huddled down on the floorboard and didn’t make my presence known until she was at least a mile down the road, at which point I popped up and said, “Boo!” Mom screamed bloody murder and we nearly went off the road.
“Sparrow!” she yelled. I thought she’d be happy to see me but she wasn’t and it hurt. I’d annoyed her and it showed.
I didn’t let Mom kill my prom dress joy and when it arrived in the mail the following week I put it on immediately. It was a little long and the store clerk had said it would probably be quite difficult to hem but I thought she was full of it. I had known of seamstresses working wonders on wedding dresses and I was certain they could make this dress even more perfect for me. If not I was resigned to wearing ten-inch heels if I had to, so I didn’t trip over my dream dress. Plus, in a way this was my wedding day, of sorts—my day to stand out, be beautiful and regal. I wasn’t thinking of impressing Donut at all because we didn’t have that kind of relationship. No matter what I had on he would still go for my cheeks and call me Squishy Face.
Mom reluctantly bought my prom shoes and took me in to get my dress altered. She threatened to back out a gazillion times because she was still angry and not inclined to go out of her way for me. I was walking on eggshells and even resorted to kissing her butt a bit so she wouldn’t let me down. It worked.
The night of the prom I decided to go to Chris’s cabin to get ready. His mom came up from Gloucester to be there, and we were all staying overnight. Mom had met Eileen and liked her well enough to let me stay. I don’t think Mom wanted to see me dressed up for the prom anyway, so it worked out.
I kept my hair down, though I curled it and teased it and shellacked the hell out of it with my trusty Mink. I matched my eye shadow with my dress color which wasn’t easy but I had found a shade of mauve that was close. I was alone during my transformation, in the guest room with the door closed. I was sure that everyone’s jaw would drop when they saw my getup. The only thing that was missing was my long, elegant cigarette holder, which I had secretly wanted ever since I had gotten the dress.
“Oh, that dress is… interesting,” Eileen said. She was an older woman and unpleasant at times. She had that old-school East Coast attitude where she would tell you exactly what she thought. I was fairly certain she looked down on me, though I couldn’t put my finger on why. She had never been to my house but perhaps Chris told her that I had a gas pump in my front yard, and a dog on a chain with a junkyard dog-looking house. It didn’t matter because nothing she could say was going to ruin my confidence or my evening.
“Thank you,” I said, as if she had given me the world’s biggest compliment.
“I really like it, Mom,” Donut said, letting her know she was out of line. “You look beautiful.”He approached me and pinched my cheeks, a wide grin spreading across his face. He had gotten me a lovely wrist corsage that matched my dress. I slid it on over my glove and my ensemble was complete.
“Oh my God, that’s the most amazing dress!” so-and-so said. “Wow, where did you get that thing?” someone else remarked. I got that all night long. My dress was a hit, which meant I was a hit too, sort of, by proxy. I was content to let the dress get all the glory. After all, I had picked it out. I was the one with good taste. And I wore the thing well. I made that dress come alive, even if no one but me realized it.
Halfway through prom Donut and his friends decided to take our rented van back since they were paying for it by the hour.
“You can’t leave the prom,” I told him when he promised he would be right back. I knew he was full of it, but I didn’t really have a say, so I walked away and they left.
The guys were gone for over two hours. I knew they went to drink beer and get high, and I was irritated. I was left to dance to the slow songs by myself, which meant I sat them out. I danced with a few of my guy friends here and there but that was about it. I was beginning to feel defeated but there was no way I could let myself go there with the most fabulous dress in the world on. So I pulled myself together and made the most of it. I danced every fast song, which included dancing to “Vogue” by Madonna three times. I was the only girl in gloves and I felt as glamorous as Marilyn Monroe. Screw Donut and screw all boys tonight, I thought as I made hand boxes around my face and struck some serious poses.
The guys returned in their cars just about the time prom was over. I played the princess card and gave Donut the silent treatment. He was apologetic and smelled like Busch Light. He tried to pinch my cheeks and I slapped his hand away. I wasn’t really angry, just proving a point. Later that night when we went to bed he tried to shag and I said no. It was the first time I had ever said no to a boyfriend and it felt good. He didn’t deserve to have me that night and I wasn’t the least bit interested. Dancing in that heavy dress all night had worn me out, so I turned over, closed my eyes and replayed my glory night in my head. I was out quick, smiling.
Chapter 23
Graduation came in a flash after that. I had gotten my class ring a few months earlier, a dainty gold ring with an amethyst in the middle and a tiny diamond chip on each side. Dad and Samantha had paid for that too, and I was grateful. I felt frumpy when I tried on my cap and gown but there was no way of getting around it.
Mikey was living with Dad and they both flew in for my big day. I had gone to dinner with Dad, Mikey and Donut the night before graduation and Dad had convinced me to move to Iowa in the fall. He wanted me to live with him and Samantha and go to community college for a year. At first I thought it sounded terrible since I had my plan of college on the beach but Dad promised he would buy me a car and Donut reminded me that if I moved to Iowa I would only be eight hours away from his college in Ohio. Mikey had matured quite a bit and I thought perhaps living with him wouldn’t be so bad. He was a high schooler now, on the golf and tennis teams. He was even a member of the Young Republicans at his school, which I thought was ironic since Dad was pretty liberal politically. They all worked on me and eventually I said yes. An abrupt change of plans, but the most important thing was that I was leaving Maine. Leaving that house. Leaving the drama and chaos. I had served my time.
Sitting outside at graduation was difficult. I had never been one for pomp and circumstance and this day was no exception. I didn’t take the time to reflect back on my achievement because I was antsy for the next stage of my life. For as long as I could remember I had written in my journal, “I can’t wait to get out of this hellhole. I can’t wait to leave this place.” That day had finally arrived.
When the headmaster called my name my heart raced. I wore flat shoes just in case I was so nervous that I stumbled. I wasn’t taking any chances with such a large crowd. I took my diploma with one hand and shook the headmaster’s hand with the other. I had a flashback of how a few years back he had dragged me to the office by my ear because I had broken the school’s dress code and worn jeans with a hole in the knee. Mr. Tuttle was in his eighties but I wondered if he remembered that day too. I was different now. More grown up, more focused. I wondered if he even recognized me.
After it was all over, Dad sprung a surprise on me.
“I have a ticket for you to fly back with your brother and me tomorrow. Go home and pack a bag and come with us, okay?”
“What? So soon?” I hadn’t had any time to process my change of plans, and now he was asking me to hop a plane the next day and start my new life.
“Sparrow, just come out for a few weeks. I’ll help you get your driver’s license, get settled, then you can do whatever you want for the summer. You can come back if you want to.” I thought it over for a whole thirty seconds. I’d finally have my driver’s license. And a car.
“Okay, Dad. I’ll come,” I said. I was really doing it.
Donut was staying at my place that night, so I told him on the way home.
“I think it’s a good idea. Go get settled, get your license and then come spend the summer with me in Gloucester. I already asked my mom a
nd she said it would be okay.”
“Really? She wouldn’t mind?”
“No, she’s fine with it. We can spend the summer together before we start school. Please say yes.” He pinched only one of my cheeks because he was driving.
Chris lived in a beautiful home with a pool, a cabana and a third-story game room that had a bar, pool table and a gorgeous view. He was ten minutes from the beach. He had taken me there one weekend and I was blown away. It was one of the most beautiful houses I had ever stepped foot in. Plus I would get to hang out with my best friend for an entire summer. There was no way I was going to say no.
“Yes,” I replied as I grabbed his hand to hold it. For a brief moment I thought back to the plans I had made with Ed, to move in with him in Florida as soon as I had graduated. Those plans seemed ancient now, almost like a dream. I wondered what he was doing, why he never called back. Perhaps he met another Trish who gave good head and looked amazing in a bikini. I felt a familiar sting and quickly put all thoughts of him out of my mind. What I had with Donut was stable and predictable. There was no longing, no heaviness.
I’ve needed this stability my whole life, I concluded. I knew deep down I still loved Ed, but I had learned to live without people I loved. I learned to live without Mom, without Morris. Some people value love above all things. I had decided to value something different. And who could blame me?
“Mom, I need to talk to you,” I said once I got home. I pulled up a stool at the breakfast bar where Mom was sitting and smoking. I knew after I told her my plans she was going to need many more cigarettes and a few of Dr. Robertson’s magic pills.
“Mom, I’m going back to Iowa with Dad tomorrow. I’ve decided I’m going to try college there.” Mom was silent for a moment but her eyes widened and her nostrils flared.
“What? You can’t leave!”
“Mom, I just graduated. I need to plan my future. Dad’s going to help pay for school and buy me a car. Plus, I’ll be closer to Donut. It’s the right decision.” I was calm but firm. I had no desire to fight with Mom or anyone for that matter. I knew I was hurting her. She hated my father, like she hated every man except Frank, Donald, and Dr. Robertson.
For so many years I had to do what she wanted. What Larry wanted. I had to bring in firewood, clean the house, rake the yard, shovel snow, watch the children, fold laundry, and wash stacks of dishes. They had used me. Taken advantage of me. I was done, and it was all hitting her. She wouldn’t have her oldest daughter in her pocket to do her work while she sat around smoking and drinking coffee. It must have hit her hard.
“You’re not eighteen yet, you can’t go.” I was a little surprised she had played that card.
“Mom, don’t go there. I’m grown up now and I’m meant for more than picking up after you and rotting in this house.” I walked away. She knew it was the truth.
I went rummaging in Punky’s closet and found the trusty old blue suitcase with the broken handle that I used every time I traveled; the one Mom got with her IGA green stamps all those years ago. I had no idea what to pack so I threw a bunch of clothes in it, along with my set of hot rollers and some toiletries. I didn’t know when or if I would be back and I figured whatever I left behind Punky could have.
I brought Punky into my room and told her the news. I could tell she was surprised but if she was sad she wasn’t the type to let on. She was twelve, just approaching her teen years and I was sorry that I was going to miss them. I was older and wiser now and I hoped I would be able to give her good advice about junior high and high school.
Doodie was starting kindergarten in the fall and I would miss that too. Doodie and I were still close and I never got tired of watching The Little Mermaid with her or playing Barbies. How would I live without these two little humans who not only kept me sane but really were the only true source of joy in my life? My heart began to hurt, so I quickly put all of those feelings in the same box I put Ed in. Sometimes when I let myself swim in feelings like that it felt like I was going to drown, and this was no time for drowning.
“Please take care of Tweak. He’s yours now.” I told Punky. Tweak was my pet chinchilla whom I adored and had purchased with my very first paycheck from the umbrella store. His cage sat on a little bench next to my bed where he happily ate apples and rolled in chalk dust. I hoped she was happy to have him.
Saying goodbye to Doodie wasn’t as tough because she didn’t quite understand.
“Sparrow’s going to college,” I told her. I often referred to myself in the third person when talking with her like Dad still did on occasion. “I’ll call you all the time and send you packages in the mail.” She seemed excited at that prospect. When I had a daughter someday I wanted her to be just like Doodie. I couldn’t believe I was upset when Mom first told us she was pregnant. Doodie was the most precious part of our freak show family. I couldn’t imagine life without her.
The next morning I finished packing as I waited for Dad to pick me up. Mom half-hugged me goodbye, but she had a hard time looking me in the eye. I wondered if she had any regrets about the way she had treated me all those years, with the yelling, the coldness, the distance, and her demanding nature. I wondered if she wished she’d gone shopping with me or out to lunch just once by ourselves. I wondered if she regretted paying me in cigarettes to clean the house. None of it mattered. I was embarking on a new journey, and I was starting over.
I said goodbye to all the pets. Seashell, the Australian shepherd mix we inherited from the old neighbor whose house was on cinderblocks. Snoopy, who was still on that chain with the same junkyard dog house. Skye, our pet parakeet who never let me hold her even though I spent years trying. And Tweak, of course, the little guy who never let me feel truly alone even though I spent so many hours holed up in my room with the door barricaded. I was going to miss the freak show family pets. But no one knew better than I that grief is the price of love, so I let my heart feel as much grief as I deemed safe. A few tears are okay, I concluded.
Dad honked and I got my belongings together. He sent Mikey to help me with my suitcase which was awkward because Mom was upset I was leaving and sad that she only had a few minutes with her son. Donut had already taken off earlier that morning, and I was glad he wasn’t around for my final goodbyes.
I gave everyone one last hug in the kitchen and took a look around. This would be my home no more. I collected as much of myself from that place as I could. In an instant a thousand memories flooded my brain, like watching a movie in fast-forward only one hundred times faster. I breathed in as I let them pass through me and exhaled before I turned around and closed the back door behind me.
About the Author
Sparrow Spaulding is an author, keynote speaker and humanitarian. She has spent her life helping those in need and has always been a voice for the disenfranchised, especially in the field of mental health. After spending years practicing as a psychotherapist, Sparrow evolved into life coaching and has never looked back. She runs a successful practice, meeting with people all over the world, helping them live their best lives.
In her free time Sparrow loves to sing, play the piano, read, write, dance, and catch frogs. Oh, and turtles too.
Website: SparrowSpaulding.com
Facebook: Facebook.com/SparrowSpaulding
Twitter: @sparrowauthor
Instagram: sparrowspaulding
Excerpt from Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
“Sparrow? It’s me, Ed.”
I couldn’t speak.
“Sparrow, are you there? Sparrow?”
“Yes, yes I’m here. Wow, it’s been what, two years?” Beads of sweat formed on the back of my neck. My heart was racing.
“Yeah, things have been nuts. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Ed. And you?”
“I’m good. I have custody of the kids now.”
“That’s great. Good for you.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I waited.
Ed broke the silence. “What’s new with you?”
My stomach dropped. I had to sit down.
“Well … lots.”
“Like?”
“I’m getting married.” When Ed didn’t respond, I added, “In three weeks.”
Finally, it registered. “What? Who is this guy?”
“His name’s Michael,” was all I could muster.
“Well, whoever he is, you can’t marry him.”
“Oh, really? And why not?” As usual, he got my blood boiling.
“Because, Miss Sparrow, you’re supposed to marry me. That’s why.”
I was stunned. Of course I was supposed to marry Ed. I was supposed to marry Ed and become Mrs. McCue and pop out ten little rug rats. I had wanted that more than anything. But he abandoned me. Twice. I already risked my heart for him and had nothing to show for it but a few old letters and a tarnished silver bracelet. And a very bitter, broken heart that didn’t believe in love anymore. I was content to marry a nice man who kissed like a drooling Newfoundland and sometimes finished in his pants before we even got started. And truth be told, he wasn’t all that nice, but he wasn’t mean and in my world that counted for a lot.
“Edward Joseph McCue, how dare you call me three weeks before my wedding day and try to spoil it! Do you think the world waits for you? Because guess what? It doesn’t! So unless you want to congratulate me, I suggest you move along.” Self-preservation was all I could think about.
“Sparrow, please don’t do this. I’m sorry! You’re right. I’ll do anything, just please don’t marry this guy!”
Riding Standing Up Page 23