by Aria Johnson
Chapter 6
I stood in the doorway of Brandon’s bedroom with my arms crossed. I’d already said his name twice, but he hadn’t responded. He sat on the edge of his bed, holding a controller, engrossed in the avatars on the screen that moved around an imaginary football field. I couldn’t tell if he was unaware of my presence or simply ignoring me.
Wearing a headset, he bellowed into the microphone: “Get ’em! Whoa, good hit, Newsflash202! Move it, move it, man. Yeah. Good job!”
In the next moment, he jumped to his feet and pumped his fist. “Touchdown,” he yelled in triumph and then talked trash to the players he was competing with.
It baffled me that someone who’d never played football a day in his life and had no interest in any athletics was such a skilled player when he was simulating a sport with a controller in his hand.
Being a social outcast and not having any real-life friends, Brandon’s smiles and laughter during interactions with his Xbox buddies usually gave me a modicum of comfort. He was always so angry and such a recluse, it was reassuring to see him making connections, even if it was only with anonymous people whom he only knew by screen names like Newsflash202.
But tonight I wasn’t moved by his happiness and contentment. I was furious that he’d blatantly disobeyed my request to clean up the mess that he and that dreadful girl had made in the kitchen.
Although he’d turned into a slob the moment he’d reached puberty, I’d always been adamant that his slovenly ways had to be confined to his own bedroom and he usually complied with my wishes. It boggled my mind why he was being so defiant. He’d had all day while I was at work and the entire evening while I was at dinner with Jeff to clean up the kitchen. Now it was after eleven o’clock, and he not only hadn’t bothered to clean up the mess from last night, but he’d added to the chaos. And so had Ava.
On the island was a puddle of red juice, globs of grape jelly, slices of bread spilling from a gaping loaf of bread, and an uncapped jar of peanut butter was left on the countertop with a butter knife protruding from it. And the remnants of Ava’s breakfast had been left on the kitchen table as well.
“Brandon!” The aggravation of having to call his name for the third time caused my voice to climb to a screechy pitch. When he continued to ignore me, I marched over to the surge protector on the floor and used the tip of my shoe to click the red button, shutting off the TV, the computer, his phone charger, and whatever else was plugged into the numerous outlets.
In a state of disbelief, Brandon’s eyes bounced back and forth from the darkened TV screen to my face. “I was in the middle of a game. Why’d you fuckin’ do that?”
“Don’t use that language with me.”
“Well, don’t come in my room acting like a whack job,” he spat, his face contorted in anger. He looked furious enough to strike me, and although I knew he wouldn’t dare get physical with me, my body tensed in expectation of the loud boom that would occur when he punched or kicked a wall or sent a large inanimate object crashing to the floor.
Surprisingly, he didn’t do anything except quietly seethe for a few moments. With his fists balled, he breathed in and out rapidly, his chest heaving up and down. When he moved toward the power strip and bent down to power up all the devices I’d shut down, I blocked his path. He sighed and gave a little laugh of disbelief, like I was the most irrational person he’d ever encountered.
“I’ve repeatedly told you that I’m not your maid, Brandon.”
He shuffled from foot-to-foot. “I said I’m gonna clean the damn kitchen before I go to bed, so get off my back!”
“No, I’m not going to get off your back,” I said stubbornly. “I told you to clean up behind yourself last night and I reminded you again when I came home from work. Now, here it is after eleven at night and you’ve not only refused to do what I asked of you, but you added to the chaos with spilled juice and peanut butter and jelly. And your slob of a girlfriend didn’t even have the common decency to wash the breakfast dishes she left behind.”
“Is that what this is about—Ava? She’s not perfect, but she’s not a bad person, either. I don’t know why you hate her so much.”
I started to deny hating her, but it was pointless to lie. “This is not about Ava. It’s about you totally defying my wishes. What am I missing? Why do you think it’s unreasonable to expect you to clean up after you’ve prepared food?”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have had to resort to making fucking peanut and jelly for dinner if you’d brought home dinner like you’re supposed to.”
“Supposed to?” I repeated in disbelief. “You’re going to be twenty-one on your next birthday. By law, my obligation to provide for you ended when you turned eighteen. But I continue to try and make life easy for you out of love.”
“That’s a crock of shit. Whatever it is you think you do for me, you do out of guilt.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You let Dad treat me like shit and your guilt is eating you alive.”
“I did no such thing. After he started his business, your father became aloof and he detached himself from both of us, Brandon. The only way I knew how to protect you from a man who wasn’t present in your life was to divorce him.”
“Wow, great strategizing, Mom. I applaud your parenting skills,” he said sarcastically.
I shot him a confused look.
“Divorcing Dad only drove him further away. Do you know what life has been like for me, having a father that acts like he barely knows me?”
“And you think it’s my fault?”
“Yeah,” he said, poking out his lips.
“If you believe I’m responsible for your father’s unwillingness to be involved in your life, then you seriously need therapy to work through your misplaced anger and blame issues. I’m willing to join you if that’ll help.”
“I already told you a million times that therapy is bullshit and I’m not going. Fuck that!” Brandon’s foul language was getting to me, but I had bigger issues to contend with.
“Therapy is no longer up for debate. You have to see someone if you expect to continue living under my roof. In the meantime, I insist that you go downstairs and get to work in the kitchen. It looks and smells like a pigsty.” I scrunched my face, emphasizing my disgust.
“Did I hear you right? Did you say I have to fucking leave if I don’t see a fucking shrink?” He took menacing steps toward me.
I pressed a palm against his chest. “You’re behaving in a threatening manner, Brandon, and I don’t like it.”
“How am I behaving threateningly?” He held up his long lean arms that were sinewy with small muscles, a gift of youth and not from putting in any strenuous effort.
“You’re getting in my face. Look, clearly something has to give. You can’t go on like this . . .loafing around, playing video games, and feeling sorry for yourself. You obviously need help to get motivated about life.”
“I am motivated. I’m planning a family with Ava, and I guarantee you I’ll be a better father than that piece-of-shit sperm donor of mine.”
“But you can’t provide for a child,” I rationalized. “Do you think it’s a good idea to deliberately bring a child into the world when you’re not even making plans to earn an income?”
“Ava’s got it all worked out. She’ll get state assistance for a little while and then she’s going to fake like the kid has asthma or something and then she’ll get social security benefits. She knows all the ins and outs of beating the system.”
I let out a mournful groan and rubbed my temple. Listening to Brandon’s ridiculous plan to leach off the government was painful. It was late and I couldn’t deal with his irrational thinking for another second.
“I’m tired, Brandon, and I’m going to bed. We’ll talk about your absurd plan for fatherhood when I get home from work tomorrow.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. It’s my life and you can’t dictate how I live it.”
“What about Ava’s girlfriend?
How does she fit into the equation?”
“Ava said being with Muffy was just a phase.”
“So, why’re they still living together?”
“I don’t know, Mom. Ava’s trying to let her down gently, I guess.” He shrugged and I could tell that he had no idea what Ava planned on doing about her other lover.
I shook my head and sighed. “You need to rethink your plans with Ava, but in the meantime, please do what I asked you to do. The kitchen is filthy and it’s reeking.”
“Okaaaay! How many times do I have to say I’ll take care of it before I go to bed?” He moved around me and clicked the switch of the surge protector. A hum filled the room as a myriad of electronic equipment whirred back to life.
He rolled onto his bed and picked up the Xbox controller.
“Brandon, put down that controller and do what I asked . . .now,” I said adamantly.
“Do it now or what?” He cast a challenging glance at me and his eyes were filled with what looked like a mixture of hatred and simmering rage.
But why was he so infuriated with me—the only person in the world who had loved him unconditionally and had done everything in my power to give him a good life?
He was an ungrateful overgrown child and I only had myself to blame. I’d given too much and expected too little from him, but the level of disrespect that he was exhibiting tonight was intolerable.
“Forget about the kitchen; I’ll clean it myself. But when I get home from work tomorrow, I expect you to have packed your things and moved out.” I couldn’t believe those words had come out of my mouth, but I forged on. “Making it on your own will give you the reality check you need to see how easy you’ve had it. I don’t want you calling and asking me for any money because I’m not going to give you a dime if you don’t try to help yourself. If you get a job and need money for work essentials or carfare, I’ll help you out. What I really want is for you to enroll in school. It doesn’t have to be college, per se. It would be perfectly fine for you to go to a trade school or anywhere that teaches practical skills.”
“You asked me to leave, but you’re still trying to control my life.”
“I’m trying to help guide you in the right direction.”
“I don’t need your guidance.” He looked at me and shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ll be out of here tomorrow.”
“Good.” I left his room and went to my room and changed from the lace dress to a pair of sweats and tank top, and then I went downstairs to tackle the kitchen. I scrubbed pots and pans, wiped off countertops and cabinets, swept and mopped the floor and then took out the smelly trash.
It took over an hour to complete the job. After taking a shower, it was past midnight when I finally crawled into bed. I was exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. Finding the strength to finally give Brandon an ultimatum was liberating, but it was also a little embarrassing that it had taken me so long to put my foot down.
Tough love and therapy were exactly what he needed. Brandon would thank me when he became an emotionally healthy and self-sufficient adult.
Chapter 7
When I entered the wrought-iron gates at work, I noticed a throng of people bedecked with green-and-white volunteer buttons standing in the courtyard. Shannon Teal, the head of the volunteer department, was giving them her spiel about how important they were to the success of the zoo. I tried to slip past the group undetected, but Shannon caught me and waved me over.
Resignedly, I plodded toward them with my coffee thermos in hand. After the long and eventful night I’d had—the dreamy date with Jeff followed by the confrontation with Brandon and then late-night kitchen-cleaning—the last thing I felt like doing was engaging with a pack of strangers before I’d had my second cup of coffee of the morning.
But duty called. It was my plan to introduce myself and say something short and sweet about the work my department did and then scamper off to the horticulture building to unwind and get my bearings before taking on a brand-new work day.
Unfortunately, Shannon had other plans for me.
“This is Walter Caulfield and he has quite the green thumb.” She nodded at an older gentleman who was tall and broad-shouldered with salt-and-pepper hair, and gleaming hazel eyes. He wasn’t bad-
looking for his age.
Walter wasn’t shy at all. He chimed right in after Shannon introduced him. “I took up gardening after I retired, and man-oh-man, I have to say that I missed my calling. I wasted thirty good years working as an engineer. I’d probably have fewer gray hairs had I worked with plants at the beginning of my career. But it’s never too late. I’m eager to get started,” he said, smiling and rubbing his hands together.
Both Walter and Shannon gazed at me as if expecting me to reply with a witty response, but I’d never been known as a jokester, and even if I were, it was too early in the morning for clever banter. All I could manage was to give them both a weak smile.
Shannon quickly filled the tense silence. “I’ll bring Walter over as soon as we finish up orientation.”
“Great,” I muttered.
Walter winked at me and I couldn’t decide if he was a dirty old man or the friendly grandfatherly type. I offered him an uncertain, twitchy smile before taking off.
Sitting at my desk in the office, I was staring off into space thinking about Brandon and second-guessing my decision to put him out when my staff began trickling in.
“You okay?” asked Meghan, a twenty-something, cute and bubbly young woman who was the most recent hire in the department. Meghan was such a sweetheart, she never balked or complained when Veronica behaved as if she were her supervisor, designating tasks for her to do. Ironically, Meghan had a higher position and earned more money than Veronica, and it was only a matter of time before Meghan pulled rank and rebelled against bossy Veronica. I’d seen it happen with every new hire. They were initially intimidated by Veronica’s vast knowledge and experience, but that always changed after they realized that Veronica was the low man on the totem pole in our department.
“I’m fine,” I said to Meghan.
“Anything you want me to do before I head over to the carnivorous plant display?”
I thought about Winking Walter. “As a matter of fact, there is. Would you stop by Volunteer Services? Shannon Teal has assigned a volunteer to our department. He has a lot of horticulture experience and I’m sure he’ll be a great addition to our staff. I’d appreciate if you’d show him the ropes and let him shadow you today.”
Meghan’s sunny expression darkened a little. No one enjoyed being shadowed by a volunteer. Having to interrupt a busy workday to show someone the ropes was beyond inconvenient; it was sheer torture. But I had a lot on my mind. Personal matters to work through and perhaps a tension-filled phone conversation with Brandon that I didn’t want anyone eavesdropping on.
After all seven staff members had checked in and then gone off to their various work stations around the zoo, I tried to focus on the damned quarterly report that I’d failed to make any progress on yesterday. But I couldn’t concentrate.
My mind kept flitting back to dinner with Jeff, prompting me to break into a dreamy smile, but the moment I felt an inkling of happiness, I’d think about Brandon and all my joy would evaporate.
Would my son become a homeless person? As far as I knew, there weren’t any homeless shelters in Middletown. So, what would Brandon do? Where would he go? I imagined him making his way to the city living under a bridge inside a tent or a cardboard box.
Other than crashing at Ava’s place with her and her lesbian lover, where else would he go? And since she’d mistreated him so badly the last time he’d impulsively moved in with her, this time would probably be far worse with him trying to share her with a disgruntled girlfriend.
Oh, God, it was all so disgusting and sordid. The most secure person in the world wouldn’t be able to survive such a horribly dysfunctional arrangement, and Brandon was much too high-strung and emotionally unstable to become a part of the tw
isted triangle that Ava had lured him into.
Feeling panicked and experiencing a complete change of heart, I called Brandon’s cell. When he didn’t pick up, I sent a lengthy text urging him to stay put. I told him we’d both been angry and a bit irrational last night. I said that we needed to revisit the subject of his living arrangements with level heads.
I hit “send” and waited to hear from him. After fifteen minutes had dragged by without a call or a text, I dove into my work. It was best to stay busy. Had I kept my focus on Brandon, I would have left work early and raced home to check on him.
My phone pinged with a text message around noon. I anxiously grabbed my phone and looked down at the message on the screen.
Had a great time last night. Hope we can get together again. If you’re free Saturday, I’d love to take you sailing. A day trip to Cape May.
I scowled at the message, feeling annoyance instead of joy. Ordinarily, I would have been extremely flattered that Jeff wanted to see me again. I’d never gone sailing before and it seemed really romantic. Unfortunately, my anxiety over Brandon was so profound, I couldn’t be bothered to take the time to respond to the message.
I called Brandon once more. Left another message and waited. When twenty minutes passed, I grabbed my handbag and rushed toward the door. Outside, my quick getaway was interrupted. Winking Walter and Meghan were striding toward the horticulture building, and I groaned inwardly. They were the last two people I wanted to see.
Meghan, who was usually cheerful, looked frazzled and worn down. But Walter’s eyes were alit with excitement as if he’d been feeding off Meghan’s abundant energy.
“Welp, I’ve seen it all today,” Walter said, grinning and rolling his eyes heavenward. “Never before have I seen a Venus flytrap or any of those other carnivorous plants in action. Only on TV and in the movies. Seeing a plant eating bugs and whatnot in person was a heck of an experience. This little lady, Meghan, had me feeding those blasted things like they were pets. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she had me massaging their outside surfaces to get ’em to digest the insects.” Walter was talking a mile a minute. He sucked in air, prepared to continue, but I used that opportunity to interrupt him.
