by ML Nystrom
The midday sun was high and bright in the clear blue sky. My dad should have finished his golf game by now and be at home. My mother spent her Sunday mornings in bed after a night of wine indulgence but should be up and awake. It was rare they were in the house at the same time, which was why I’d timed it to catch them now. Still, it took me several minutes of deep breathing and forced relaxing before I approached the front door. I hated this place. I hated it with a deep passion.
Bedelia, their housekeeper, opened the door and smiled. “Miss Melanie, so goot to see you.” The ancient Czechoslovakian woman wore the same plain blue uniform and flat work shoes she had for years.
I grinned back at her. She was the one person I looked forward to seeing. “Bee-Dee, it’s good to see you too. Are they here?”
She kept the same expression, but her eyes dimmed. “Yes, on the veranda enjoying a light lunch. Will you be joining them?”
“Bee-Dee, it’s me. You don’t have to be so formal.”
She didn’t move. This sent off warning bells.
“Dr. Magnus is with them.”
Shit, my brother. I hadn’t rehearsed telling him too. I was hoping to make the announcement to my parents and let them have the pleasure of telling Magnus my news. That way, they could all sit around the dinner table and trash me to their hearts’ content. But it was for the best this way. I could get it all done at once and then leave before the bashing conversation got started.
I nodded and took a deep breath. Outside of this house, I exuded strength, intelligence, and confidence. An alpha female warrior. This house reduced me to the insignificant little girl from my childhood. Bedelia understood and gave me a sympathetic look and took my hand in her old gnarled one.
“Don’t let them get to you, moje dítě. You found yourself a long time ago.”
Yes, I did. I could do this. My shoulders lifted up and pulled back. The bright floral print pencil dress I chose this morning made a statement of its own. I will not be cowed.
My heels clicked on the polished wood floors as I walked through the cavernous main floor rooms to get to the back of the house. I saw the trio of people through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Dread focused in my stomach as I approached them. They sat around a glass-topped table under a covered pergola. My mother wore a wide-brimmed garden hat and large sunglasses, probably trying to cover up a hangover. My father still wore his golfing shorts and shirt. I did my best not to look at my brother.
“Mother. Father,” I greeted them. Mom and Dad were not in their vocabulary nor mine. “Mags.”
The heat of his glare bounced off my cheek at the hated nickname, however, he remained silent, reminding me I was beneath his regard. My palms grew moist, and I swiped them against my dress.
“My word, Melanie, I wasn’t expecting your company today. What brings you out here, darling?” My mother’s sweet southern accent sounded like those of the big plantation southern belles she emulated.
I noticed no one invited me to sit, so I stood and tried not to shift from foot to foot. The morning sickness had already come and gone for the day. I hoped.
“Yes, dear, pleasant surprise.” My father picked up his fine china mug and sipped at the dark custom-blended coffee. He ordered several types of beans to be carefully measured and ground. I knew this because I heard him once instruct how he wanted his morning cup of joe prepared and how if his coffee didn’t meet his exacting standards, the cook would look for a new job. He didn’t ask if I wanted one.
Magnus still didn’t say a word as he picked up a similar cup.
My mouth dried up, and I bit my tongue to get some juices flowing. Fuck, Mellie, just say you’re pregnant. Two words. I’m pregnant. That’s all!
“I need... I have to...” I dry swallowed and kept going. Just pull it off quick like a Band-Aid, Mel. “Guess what you’re gonna get for Christmas?” I paused for a moment and took a huge breath. “A grandson or granddaughter.”
At first, the three faces looked at me in confusion, trying to figure out the joke. My mother was the first to comprehend, and the look of horror on her face was just as bad as a slap across mine. “A grandchild? Oh my stars! You’re having a baby? Out of wedlock? Oh!” She put down her cup of tea and started fanning herself with a white linen napkin.
“Take it easy, Deloris. It’s not the end of the world.” My father’s reaction, or lack of it, surprised me. I’d imagined him to be the first one to throw stones.
“Congratulations, little sister. You fucked up again.”
Not shocked by my brother’s attitude.
Mother continued to fan and pant. “Oh, what are we to do? I can’t show my face in public. A fallen daughter. Oh, my nerves!”
Yeah, mine too. Overreacting much? “Plenty of women have children and raise them as single parents, Mother.” I couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm out of my voice as she kept up her drama. My mother had had a brief stint as an actress in the local theater scene. She’d had a few parts, but no lead roles when she met and married my father. From then on, she treated her life as one big play. Her dramatics were common enough that I didn’t pay much attention to them anymore.
The chair made a creaking noise as Magnus leaned back and lifted his own cup. “Still a fuckup, but I guess we can’t expect anything else from her. I bet she doesn’t know who the father is.”
I hated the way he spoke about me like I wasn’t there. To him, I was nothing more than an inconvenient embarrassment. My father had retired a few years ago from his surgical practice. Dr. Martin Miser had inherited a successful physician’s private care office from my grandfather and continued his practice to become a successful maxillofacial reconstruction surgeon. Magnus followed in the family footsteps and now partnered in the office as an orthopedic surgeon. Me? I was supposed to follow one of two career paths: either marry a doctor in the practice or become one. Instead, I taught math in a public school. None of them had ever forgotten their disappointment in my choices.
“I know who the father is, asshole. He doesn’t want anything to do with us.”
“Melanie! Your language!”
Ironic that my mom will get upset if I use the word asshole, but Magnus can get away with saying fuck.
Magnus just smirked. He knew he won when he got under my skin. “So when are you getting rid of it?”
“Check your hearing. Didn’t I just say the G word?”
He waved an imperious hand in the air. “Adoption? You can’t possibly be a mother. How can you expect to support a child on what you make?”
He had no idea he echoed Peter’s words. My head was filling with pressure, ready to explode. “I’m not broke. My bank accounts are fine. My insurance is fine. There’s nothing wrong with me financially.”
“Oh, you’re talking about the play money you get from your little job. Christ, you’d go through your trust fund in a heartbeat if we didn’t regulate it for you.”
“No one ‘regulates’ my accounts but me.”
“Please, dear sister, grow the fuck up. Your allowance was set a long time ago.”
“Trust dividends, not allowance. And I got control of it years ago when I turned twenty-five. Same as you.”
“And if it weren’t for me, you’d be getting nothing.”
“That’s not how trusts work. Why are you so concerned? It’s no secret you don’t give a shit about me. I don’t expect you to give a shit about my baby either.”
He put his cup down, folded his arms, and looked me in the face. I stared back, wishing my eyes had laser beams. “No, I don’t give a shit about you or the bastard you have inside you. I do give a shit about you bringing down our family name.”
Really? I put my hand up, thumb next to my ear and pinky extended to my mouth. “Uh, ring, ring! The twenty-first century is calling. Big news! Women don’t get pregnant by themselves. Who knew? No one blinks an eye anymore when unmarried women have babies. You know what? We even get to vote now!”
“Stop.” The single word from my father had Mag
nus biting back anything else he planned on saying. Martin cut into his circular fried egg and spread the liquid yolk over the white. I’d seen him do this for years. Every morning, the same ritual. “You’ve shared your news, Melanie.” He doubled up a strip of the coated egg white on his fork and lifted it to his mouth. Not once did he look at me.
With nothing else to be said, I turned and left. My feelings were numb. I didn’t expect roses and balloons, but the cold dismissal hurt more than I thought it would. I got in my car and fought the tears while I scrambled for my phone. Fuck, it was dead, and I didn’t have my car charger. Banging the steering wheel and screaming sounded like a great idea for a second or two. Instead, I started my car and spun out of the driveway, not caring if I left marks.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” I repeated my litany over and over again as I drove on autopilot to Bevvie’s house. I’d said these words to myself over and over, but I’d stopped believing them a long time ago. Uttering them out loud was just a habit at this point in my life. Memories crowded my mind as the familiar roads flew by.
The yellow van from the private school dropped me off in front of my house, and I skipped through the foyer in my new pink dress. My kindergarten teacher had told me she like my shiny black Mary Jane shoes and white socks with the lacy cuffs. I loved it when she called me pretty and liked my clothes. I had my colored pictures in my hand of the new numbers we learned. All the way up to one hundred! That was a lot. The other kids counted on their fingers, but I didn’t need to use them. I could count to one hundred all by myself.
Mommy liked being told she was pretty too. She went to the spa every day to be pretty, and sometimes, I didn’t get to see her until dinnertime. I had to go upstairs to change clothes, and Bee-Dee would make me lunch. Then I could play or watch TV for the rest of the day. At least until Magnus came home from school. I stayed in my room when he did, ’cause he liked to yell at me and call me names until I cried.
My room had pink walls and matching lacy pillows on the bed. Mommy’s and Daddy’s rooms were side by side across the big space. I had to walk all the way around the inside balcony to get to them. When I got to the top of the stairs, lots of noises came from Daddy’s room. Happiness made my heart jump, ’cause Daddy was home. I wanted to show him my numbers, but the noises were scary. It sounded like a monster panting. Bee-Dee told me there were no such thing as monsters, but I thought there were. My friend at school told me if you yelled at a monster and pointed your finger at it and told it to go away, it left you alone. I was sure Daddy didn’t want them in his room, so I pulled down on the latch real quiet and opened the door.
Mommy had the biggest room in the house, but Daddy’s room was big too. He had a big bed, and it looked like he was jumping on it like I did sometimes to my princess bed. Then I saw his bare butt, and I had to put my hand on my mouth so I didn’t laugh. It would be so funny tomorrow if I told my friends about seeing my Daddy’s butt. He was bouncing on top of the new maid. I didn’t know her name, but she was naked like him. Her big boobies moved round and round, and they were both making pig oinks, and it sounded like it hurt.
My tummy suddenly felt bad. It was funny at first watching my Daddy and the maid, but deep down, I understood that it wasn’t funny. I wasn’t supposed to see this. I wasn’t supposed to see my daddy’s bare butt. I wasn’t supposed to hear him grunt and bounce on the maid. This was wrong, but I couldn’t stop staring. The maid spotted me and screamed at my daddy while she tried to push him off. He turned and looked at me and kept bouncing. I wanted to run away so bad, but my feet were stuck to the floor. My daddy saw me watch him, then he looked at the maid and told her to shut up. He kept bouncing.
When he turned away from me, I had my feet back again. I ran downstairs to the kitchen. Bedelia had made my cheese sandwich and soup.
“Come on. Eat your food while it’s hot.”
“Thank you, Bee-Dee.”
She looked at me with concern. “You didn’t change your clothes. What’s the matter, moje dítě? School no goot today?”
I shook my head and kept my eyes on my princess plate. I didn’t think she wanted me to tell her about my daddy’s butt and the bouncing and how I didn’t like it and how it bothered me. Her gaze rose to the ceiling, and she scrunched her lips into her teeth. She did this when a pot boiled over or something spilled on the floor.
Just then, my mommy walked in from the spa.
“Bedelia, some tea. Oh, you’re home already.” She sat down on the other side of the round table as Bee-Dee pulled out one of the china teacups with the flowers and gold rim. “Chamomile with lemon this time. I have such a headache.”
I sat staring at my sandwich with my hands folded in my lap.
Mommy sighed. She was mad at me. “Why are you still in your school clothes? I’ve told you dozens of times, you’re supposed to change into play clothes immediately after school. What if you drop something on your dress and it stains? People will say you look like a ragamuffin and your mother doesn’t dress you appropriately.”
I kept my eyes on the hard brown crust of my sandwich, thinking about how I liked the soft white part better.
“Impossible child,” she huffed. “I never have any trouble at all from Magnus. He’s always perfectly well behaved. I cannot understand why my second child is such a hooligan.”
“She hasn’t had a chance to go upstairs yet, ma’am.” Bedelia placed the teacup on the table, and my attention was drawn to the tiny wisps of rising steam.
Mommy huffed again. “You shouldn’t have given her food until she changed her clothes.”
I looked up at Bedelia, and she shook her head at me in warning as she answered. Her lips were still curled inward. “Yes, ma’am. It won’t happen again.”
The cup clinked against the saucer when Mommy lifted it and blew on the hot liquid. My eyes returned to my sandwich. Fear of what she would say next kept me from picking it up and biting into it.
“Bedelia, I noticed Martin’s Mercedes is back in the garage. Where is he?”
I held my breath to suck back any noise as I started to cry. If I stayed real quiet, she wouldn’t see and I wouldn’t get into more trouble.
“He’s… he’s busy, ma’am.”
Mommy put the cup back on the saucer without taking a sip. “I see.”
I tried not to make a sound, but a hiccup escaped.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, stop crying! I said I have a terrible headache, and you sit there caterwauling, making it worse. Such a selfish little girl! No consideration for anyone else. If you can’t control yourself, you may leave the table and go to your room. Insufferable child. I don’t want to see you until dinner!”
I twisted my fingers together as I got up and left the room. I wanted to run, but I’d probably get yelled at again. Running in the house was forbidden. I climbed up the stairs, my steps heavier with each tread. When I got to the top, I saw Mommy had come up the stairs too, but on the other side. I looked at her back through the carved rails as she stood outside Daddy’s room. Her hands balled up into fists, and she tucked her arms tight against her hips. I still heard the bouncy sounds and the monster grunts. I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth to keep real quiet and held my breath. Mommy’s back stood really straight, and she didn’t move. She looked like one of the statues in the big garden. I didn’t move either. If she saw me watching her, she’d get madder and yell at me again.
She stood there for a long time. So long, I thought my air would burst out. I opened my mouth and let out my breath real slow and tried to take in air without making a sound. My knees shook so much, I thought I might fall down if I took one step. My head got all wonky and my eyes got fuzzy. I still didn’t dare move, I was so scared.
Mommy finally walked to her room. Once she closed her door, I took a big breath. My head cleared up, and I ran on tippy toes to my room. I pulled down on the shiny handle real careful to keep it from clicking. When I got inside, I closed my door and slowly let the han
dle slip back up for the same reason.
Once I entered my own space, I was safe. I got on my bed and pushed my face tight into my pillow. I cried then. Big crying. Mommy would get mad at me if she saw me, but as long as she didn’t hear me, I could cry.
A hand touched my back, and I jerked up to see Bedelia. I flung myself into her generous arms and used her shoulder instead of my pillow.
“It’s okay, moje dítě. It’s okay.”
Chapter Eight
“Cut to the left. Sharp. Sharper. Okay now back up straight. Oy, where did you find this heap? Shoulda got Eva to draw up a tiny house plan for you.”
Owen eased his camper into the spot next to the woodshop as Connor coached him. It barely fit, but it was the best place to have water and electric hookup. After he made the decision to stick around for the summer, he’d wanted to set up a spot separate from Connor’s family. They were his family too, but he needed his own space, and the ancient holiday rambler fit that need.
Eva, his younger sister, had designed and built her own tiny house as a teenager and kept it for years until it met with an unfortunate accident at a job site in Wilmington. A mislaid cigar by their father had burned the beautiful mobile structure to the ground and caused a rift in the family that hadn’t healed. To this day, Fergus MacAteer had not spoken to his daughter, nor had he met his grandchildren or stepgrandchildren. Pity. The old man’s stubbornness kept him from reaching out, and he’d missed a lot. Kids only stayed young for so long, and after those childhood years disappeared, the man he called father might end up grieving that lost time.
It may not have been a tiny house, but Owen had put his own personal stamp on the camper. The inside had been gutted to make room for a bed big enough to accommodate Owen’s size. There was still the small kitchen area that wasn’t good for any serious cooking, but adequate for his needs. The shower was expanded just enough to fit, and since the woodshop had a bathroom installed, Owen planned on taking out the camper’s toilet for the near future. Not that it made much difference. He’d seen both of Connor’s young stepsons whizzing off the back deck and getting yelled at by their older sister.