by Bijou Hunter
When I let her go, Poppy stepped back. Her cheeks flushed, her nipples rock hard, her eyes wide, she was gonna remember that kiss for a long fucking time.
“If you do that again before I turn eighteen, I’m telling.”
“I ain’t scared.”
“I’ll tell Journey.”
For whatever reason, her oldest sister scares the shit out of me. The chick is friendly enough, and her man is the killer in the family. I ought to fear him or Justice’s husband, Court. Or Jared who’s Poppy’s substitute daddy. Instead, I’m nervous about Journey. In truth, I’ve caught her eyeing me sometimes as if she wouldn’t mind cutting off my balls and wearing them on a necklace.
“You better get eighteen soon,” I’d told Poppy that night.
“Idiot.”
“I might be dumb, but you like me.”
Despite the way she spun away full of teenage snottiness, I noticed her smiling. She did like me then, and she likes me even more now. I probably could have gotten away with kissing her again after bringing her home today. Unwilling to chance my balls when so close to getting what I want, I let her go without even a taste.
On my phone’s calendar, I got her birthday scheduled. It’s a big day for us both. She’ll officially be an adult and able to throw that fact around to her elders. For me, her birthday is a starting pistol in a race I’ve been training for since we met nearly two years ago. I’m ready to win this motherfucker already.
3 Train Wrecks - Poppy
A year ago, Journey gave birth to the sweetest baby in the entire world. Ike has blue eyes and a head full of dark hair. The boy smiles a lot for me, and I can’t wait until he says my name. I suspect he’ll call me “Poopy,” but I won’t care. Ike’s just that fricking adorable.
Donovan watches the kid during the day while Journey works. The first thing I do once I get home every day is to walk down the path from my house to my sister’s, so I can play with Ike. He’s always just up from his nap and raring to go.
“He’s starting to walk,” Donovan says when I arrive. “Almost took a step between two pieces of furniture today but chickened out at the last minute.”
“I hope he waits until his mommy is here to see,” I murmur, picking up the boy.
“That’d be great, but I videotape him all day just in case.”
“You’re a good man.”
Running a hand through his brown hair, Donovan narrows his eyes, no doubt suspicious of my praise.
“You make pretty babies with my sister. You’ve earned that compliment, buddy.”
“Heard Thor broke down again.”
“He’s leaving me. The best lovers never stay.”
“You’re an odd young lady.”
Now I narrow my eyes since I don’t trust anyone who calls me a lady. Donovan ignores my suspicions and walks outside to play with his dog, Kitty. Ike and I sit on the floor and play with blocks he slams together while barking baby talk.
The family’s cat slinks around me before crawling into my lap. Ike babbles at the animal before bashing the toys again.
Years ago, Donovan got the bright idea to give the name Kitty to his male Basset Hound. After he and the dog moved into this house, Journey took in a stray kitten from a litter of them her coworker found. The black female got saddled with the name Puppy after Otto had claimed the goofy name was only fair since the dog had one.
The boy is the son of Justice’s husband’s baby mama. Very redneck families happen around here, but Journey took in Otto when his bitch mother went to prison. The kid is family now, and I think of him as a cousin even though he’s more like a nephew. Our family got a whole lot more complicated when we moved to West Virginia.
Donovan asks me to watch Ike while he runs errands. I agree but only if I can take the boy to my house. Papa Bear only shrugs and shoves baby supplies into a bag.
“Journey will be home soon.”
“I know.”
“I’m always nervous leaving Ike with you.”
“You’re not a bright man, but you do make them pretty babies.”
Donovan rolls his blue eyes and walks us back to the main house. I listen to him drive away on his Harley. Closing my eyes, I enjoy how the sound reminds me of riding with Emmett. His sweaty skin under my fingertips felt so warm that I’d think the man stored an oven inside him.
Ike and I walk around the yard with me holding his hands for balance. I’m bent over like this when my sisters arrive one after the other as if they’ve followed each other home. Justice’s SUV is full of kids. Felix, Matilda, and Otto jump out, all talking at once. Journey only has eyes for Ike.
“Look at my little man.”
“Donovan said Ike almost walked today, but I think he’s saving the big moment for you.”
Journey picks up her squealing boy. They cuddle each other with Ike wiping his drool-covered face over hers.
“He’s teething,” she laughs.
“Poppy!” Justice yells. “I have groceries. Help me.”
“No!” I yell back, transfixed by Ike. “I’m watching the baby.”
Journey bounces her son while he tugs at her light brown hair. “I’ve got him.”
“No, never, mine,” I say, trying to take him back.
Journey doesn’t run with the baby in her arms, but she does a solid job of freeing herself from my greedy hands. I watch Ike disappear into the house before I help Justice bring in the groceries.
Soon, Donovan returns and heads with Otto to their place. Mom arrives from work and pretends she might cook. Once we laugh off her lie, she throws a TV dinner in the microwave. Journey and Justice join us in the kitchen, talking about summer break until the conversation switches to my truck and ride home with Emmett.
“Can you imagine how stupid and rude your kids would be?” Justice asks me. “That’s not a man to breed with.”
“I don’t think you should marry the man who claims your flower,” I say, knowing Journey hates the term. “Seems like you’re giving in too quickly.”
My sisters and mother frown at me in unison.
“Oh, yeah, you three married the first men to come along. Sorry to rub salt in that wound.”
“I’m relieved you don’t want to marry the first guy to endure your mouth long enough to let it service him,” Journey says, and Justice snickers. “I can’t imagine having to deal with Emmett on a regular basis.”
“He’s good people.”
“No, he really isn’t.”
“He’s good enough people.”
“He’s tall and has a head,” Justice offers. “Those are important qualities in a man.”
“What man are we talking about?” Court asks, looking irritated and possessive as he enters the house.
“Oh no,” I say, smiling at him. “Looks like you’ll need to piss another circle around your woman. New dicks are zeroing in on her lack of curves.”
Court ignores me. His frown focuses on his blonde pixie-sporting wife who smiles sweetly for him and caresses his chest.
“We were talking about how Emmett has a head. You have one too, baby. A sexy head with hair and eyeballs and all kinds of fun stuff. Ears too.”
“Oh, can’t forget the ears,” I mutter, taking Ike from Journey. “Without ears, how would he wear sunglasses?”
I bounce the baby gnawing on his fist. Journey studies me for nearly a minute before deciding I’m doing this very elaborate baby maneuver properly.
“Once you’re married off,” Christine says, sitting in her chair with Hal, “I’m blowing out your bedroom and making a larger master.”
“Did you and Mustache come up with that plan?” I ask.
“He mentioned it.”
“That’s how it is, huh?”
“You’ll have your own home.”
“Sure, but I plan to marry a man I can’t stand. We’ll fight a lot, and I’ll come here to drink away my worries,” I say before adding, “I did mention how I plan to become an alcoholic one day, right?”
“Ye
s, last Easter,” Journey says, taking back her baby. “I haven’t seen Ike all day.”
“Neither have I.”
After using her butt to shove me away, Journey carries Ike out the back door and down the path to her house. Justice soon follows Court outside where they head to their place. I peer out of the window to see Matilda and Felix waiting for their parents on the front porch.
Alone with Christine, I sigh. “Our house is lonely now.”
“Jared will be home soon.”
“He’s not them.”
“No, he’s not. You could go hang out at one of their houses instead of sulking here,” Mom suggests while wrapping her blonde hair into a bun.
“Won’t you mind getting ditched for someone better?” I ask while playing with her hair.
“Like I said, Jared’s on his way over, and I wouldn’t mind time alone with him.”
“You’re so horny these days. Is the menopause kicking in?”
“You’ll know when it does,” Mom says, giving me her stink-eye.
“How?”
“I’ll throw things at you every time you’re rude.”
“Every time? That’s a lot of throwing for a woman your age.”
Christine tosses a pillow at me as I run out the back door. Standing outside in the darkening evening, I study the silhouettes of Hal and Kitty sniffing each other’s asses. You’d think after nearly two years together that they’d be clued into the scents.
Before the mosquitoes show up and feed off me, I need to choose which house to invade for a few hours. On one hand, Justice and Court will likely ditch me with their kids so they can hump. On the other, Journey will cook dinner and let me play with the baby. Not really much of a choice.
4 Train Wrecks - Emmett
The house I rent in Tumbling Rock sits behind a house filled with creepy kids sporting big eyes and pale faces. No matter how much time they spend in the sun, they won’t tan. They don’t even turn red under the summer sun. I find permanently pale children terrifying.
Today, I wave at them as usual because I’m afraid to piss off the demon kids. They wave back at me in unison because they can’t do anything in a non-creepy way.
My blue house is small, but I don’t need much space. The guy who owns all of these houses doesn’t care how rough we are with them. He only wants his rent each month.
My one complaint about the house is how the mailbox is located at the road, forcing me to engage with my weird neighbors. As much as I hate talking to those kids, I’ll put up with their freaky bullshit to get my mom’s homemade cookies.
I stroll down the dirt road from my house to the mailbox. The Toomey’s big mutt barrels at me, barely stopping in time before he knocks me down. I struggle to keep his nose out of my crotch.
“He likes balls,” the oldest weird girl says, appearing from around the house and following me now.
“Yeah, well, I don’t do dogs, so call him off, or I’ll kick him off.”
The girl mumbles the dog’s name, but I can’t tell if she says “Zig” or “Big.” The animal backs off, not because of her, but because I step on his paw. He wails and takes off to safety. I know he’ll be back to smell my ass soon. We play this game nearly every day.
“How come you don’t get your mail when you drive in?” the oldest weird boy asks.
“I forget.”
“You should try to remember.”
“Uh-huh.”
The two kids follow me to the mailbox where I find junk mail and a small white box.
“What’s that?” the boy asks.
“A box.”
The girl runs her grubby fingers over the label. “What’s in it?”
“The heart of a little girl who touched my shit.”
The kid barely reacts to my comment. Her big freaky eyes stare hypnotized by the package.
“Who’s Adriana?” the boy asks.
“My ma.”
“What does she send you?”
“Dead kid parts, just like I told you,” I mutter, walking back up the drive.
“I heard you kill people,” the girl says. “Does your mom kill them too?”
“No, she just sends parts of them in the mail.”
“Why? Can’t you keep the parts of the people you kill?”
“It’s more fun this way.”
The kids shoo away their younger siblings, and I wonder how many Toomey offspring exist. They all look alike, and I can’t understand half of what their parents say.
“That’s a cat,” the girl tells me, pointing at the gray and brown furball on my front step.
“I know what a cat is, kid.”
“It’s a Maine Coon.”
“Okay.”
“Mama said they’re evil cats that’ll steal a baby’s breath at night.”
“Sounds like something your mama would say.”
I open my door, and the cat hurries inside, clearly wanting away from the kids. I know how he feels.
“You shouldn’t let him inside.”
I walk into the house and frown down at the little un-tanning freaks. “I don’t have babies in here, so it’ll be fine. Now go away before I call the cops on you for trespassing.”
I shut the door on their angry little faces and walk into my kitchen. Nearby, the cat curls up on my couch.
“I’m not sharing with you,” I say, popping open my switch blade to slice the tape around the box.
The cat belonged to the former renter. When they moved out in a hurry, the furball didn’t make the cut. He spends most of his time outside, killing things and leaving them on the back stoop. I let him come inside when he’s in the mood. A week ago, I even got around to buying food, bowls, and flea crap for him.
Inside the box, I find a dozen of my ma’s heavenly oatmeal raisin cookies she sends me weekly. I take a bite and sigh. The woman bakes like a damn angel. I close my eyes and chew the cookie. My mind sees Ma back in Charleston, stirring her cookie batter and watching the Cooking Network. I can almost smell the oven baking more goodies.
Opening my eyes, I look around the house I moved in a few months back. The apartment I’d had in Rock Top Falls got loud as hell when half of my neighbors gave birth to eternally screaming babies.
This new house is quiet but doesn’t feel like a home. It’s a place to crash every night and where I keep my clothes, single couch, fridge, and big screen TV. I don’t like being here for long. The quiet makes me restless, so I stay away. Fuck, I haven’t even gotten around to naming the cat.
Sitting on the couch, I turn on the TV and consider whether I ought to watch the game at The Rock Tavern. I’d rather spend the evening surrounded by TV screens and waitresses than in this house with a disinterested cat.
“I think I’ll let Poppy name you,” I tell him before turning off the TV. “She’s got a couple cats, and I know she named her crap truck. I bet she’d like naming a grump like you.”
Ignoring me, the excessively furry cat soaks in the failing sunlight at the window. He doesn’t look up when I walk into the kitchen to stash my cookies or when I go to the door. I bet I could disappear tomorrow and he wouldn’t be any more upset about it than he was when the last owners ditched him. The furball’s got a loner's heart I don’t share. I like people caring if I live or die, even if it’s only the girls at the tavern who know I’m off-limits for anything more than casual flirting.
Soon, I’ll have someone real in my life. Poppy will name the cat and decide where I should hang the picture I found in the second bedroom. Her voice will liven up my dull days, and her body can warm up my lonely bed. Yep, soon I’ll even have someone to help me scare off the creepy neighbor kids.
5 Train Wrecks - Poppy
Happy birthday to me!
I’ve waited for this day since a sexy redneck threatened my virginity. Emmett made me think today would be more amazing than yesterday or the day before. Yes, turning eighteen meant something special.
The actual Sunday my birthday falls on doesn’t feel particu
larly remarkable. I wake at ten when Felix, Otto, and Matilda decide I’ve slept enough. They want me to get up and open my presents. Mostly, they desire access to my first birthday cake of the day. Journey baked a three-layer green frosted monstrosity, and these children badly require a slice.
“It looks so good,” Otto says, yanking the blanket off me.
“You don’t need so much sleep,” Felix grumbles because he’s a teenage boy and a bigger asshole than his non-teen companions.
“Please,” Matilda begs, pulling the cute kid routine with her big smile.
Rolling out of bed, I try to kick Felix, but he moves too fast. We share a frown, both knowing only one bitchy teenager can rule this roost.
“Shouldn’t you have sung to me?” I ask the kids as Matilda tugs me out of the room.
“Aren’t you too old for that stuff?” Felix asks.
“Aren’t you too young to die?”
Before Felix and I can duel teen angst style, my mom wraps me into a hug.
“My baby is eighteen today!” she squeals, completely in denial of how much in denial she is about my getting older. “So grown up.”
“She slept late,” Felix mutters before stepping behind Justice and using my sister as an unsuspecting shield.
Noticing Journey holding Ike in the kitchen, I make a beeline for the slobbering baby. He’s the future, and I need to soak up his sweet-smelling youth. These other children are of no use to me. Only the tiniest minion will do.
Seeing me coming for her boy, Journey starts singing Happy Birthday. The others join in, keeping me from taking what I desire.
“Well played,” I mouth to my oldest sister.
Journey smirks triumphantly. Before I can hold a grudge, she also hugs me while the kiddies finally get a taste of the green frosted cake.
“I’ll need a nap later. Want to watch him for a few hours?” Journey offers.
Batting my eyes, I sigh. “You love me.”
“More than I should.”
Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I smile big at her. Journey really wants to blow me off, but I can pull the cute kid routine too. She gives me another hug and wishes me a happy birthday for the twentieth time.