Blanche

by HJ Bellus

  Chapter 3

  Momma Morningwood’s Way or the Highway

  Thank goodness Brady and Luna have reproduced like horny rabbits, since rounding up their family takes at least at good thirty minutes. It gave me enough time to clean up and put back on my game face after chatting with my dad. To say I’m shocked that my mom puts up with all of Brady’s kids is an understatement. She blustered around the backyard, kitchen, and dining room table until everyone was seated for lunch.

  Her exasperated façade didn’t fool me. I can see that she enjoys every single second of the chaos even though she’s not in control.

  A little hand wraps around mine resting atop my thigh under the table. “Mom, are you okay?”

  I peer down to a worried Sadie, and reassure her with a tender kiss to her forehead and a smile. “Just tired sweets and enjoying Grandma’s homemade food.”

  “It’s amazing compared to Pete’s.”

  A light giggle escapes me. “Yes, that is.”

  The table is full of clatter, between Brady yelling at his small army of children, Dad trying to holler over their chaos, and Luna answering the mortuary phone. My mom sits like a queen at the end of the table, as prim and proper as can be with an endless smile showing. Her heart is as full as her dining room table.

  “Blanche,” Luna’s voice gets my attention. “Have you enrolled Sadie in school yet?”

  I take a moment soaking in everything Luna. The woman hasn’t aged a bit. The last time I saw her she was still in high school. Her creamy skin, messy brown hair, and beyond hippy outfit is the same as it was, even her carefree spirit is still loud and alive.

  “No, I figured I’d give her a day of rest and then enroll her in school.”

  “Mom, I want to go tomorrow,” Sadie protests.

  “Honey, you’ve had quite the adventure and I think you need at least one day to acclimate to Beaver Falls.”

  “Nope, I’m ready.” Sadie stuffs her last bit of cheesy broccoli in her mouth.

  “She’s ready, Blanche.” Mom sits proudly at her end of the table. “We talked earlier and she’s super excited. I even bought her an outfit for the first day.”

  “Mom,” I try to warn her.

  “That’s great,” Luna sings. “She’ll love her class. It’s full of great kids and their teacher is just a doll.”

  “Well…” I try again to defend my case.

  “She’ll go to school tomorrow.” Dad’s deep voice domineers the whole tables attention.

  I don’t even try to get a word in edge wise, or defend the fact I’m her mother and have full parental rights and decision making over her. Instead, I send Brady the “Get me the hell out here” look. He picks up on the look, but only sends me a pathetic nod. I can tell his fight is gone and he’s exhausted.

  I deepen my stare with the “You’re dead little brother”, and again I just a get a shrug. He’s a wounded kitten. I slam my palms down on the top of the table causing all the dinnerware to clang and clatter, and it does the trick. I have everyone’s undivided attention at the table.

  “I know that Sadie and I are only guests here.” I’m even impressed how authoritative and demanding my voice flows. “However, I’m still Sadie’s mother and will be…”

  “Oh, Blanche.” My mother leaps from her chair like her hemorrhoids are raging. “I almost forgot. I signed Sadie up for soccer. She’ll be playing with Saige.”

  My butthole cringes and my devil horns begin to slowly protrude from skull. My mother will not win this battle. I’m Sadie’s mother and will be making the decisions.

  “Mother, thanks, but no thanks. Sadie doesn’t care for soccer, she’d rather take piano or dance lessons.”

  “Nonsense, Blanche. It’s soccer season around here and my little Sadie will make the perfect Beaver soccer player.”

  “Mother.” Each sound of the word grinds out between my gritted teeth. “No soccer.”

  I try not to look down at Sadie, but can tell by the whipping of her hair that her attention bounces back and forth between my mother and I.

  “Sorry. No soccer.”

  My dear mother pulls the trump card of all trump cards. She grabs Sadie’s little hand and talks only to her, knowing damn well that the rest of the family is listening to her.

  “Sadie, dear, I have your team shirt all pressed and ready to go. You’re number eight. I picked your mother’s old soccer number. You and Saige will make the Morningwoods proud.”

  “I am so stinkin’ excited about it all, Grandma, but when do I get my beaver?”

  “Your beaver?” My mother asks.

  “For shitsakes! She can play soccer. Drop the damn topic, mother.” I glare her down letting her know she’s won and to quit pressing the damn issue.

  “Perfect.” Her squeal of delight makes me want to stab myself in the eye with my fork. “Everyone meets at the big maple tree at 7:40 to walk to school.”

  “We walk to school?” Sadie asks.

  “You walk everywhere in this hell hole.” I don’t disguise my voice as a whisper letting everyone know how exhausted and over this I am.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Grandma Morningwood.” Luna’s mousy voice fills the air.

  I really don’t give a fuck what her opinion is on this matter. I grab the full bottle of wine and begin to chug it straight from the bottle. The bitter red adult juice burns my throat. It only takes one gulp before I spew it out on my plate.

  Oh fuckity fuck, I can’t even run from my problems with wine or booze. Thank you mother nature for the grand invention of sperm and eggs. Spork me now and spork me fucking hard.

  “Gag reflex still sucks.” I acknowledge the whole table that is now staring at me.

  “I don’t think it’s the best idea for us all to walk together.” Luna presses the subject.

  “Why? Why, don’t you think it’s a good idea, Luna? Are you embarrassed about Miss Beaver coming home as a loser?” I stand to my feet exhausted and already fed up with this fucking place. “I mean you’ve accomplished so damn much in your life.”

  The sarcasm drips from me. My hands fly up in the air as my anger meets an all-time high. The childhood pictures and memories that made me miss home and regret leaving, now seem so far from reality.

  “Blanche.” Brady’s voice warns me.

  Luna and Brady were elementary sweethearts straight into high school, and still going strong. Nobody messes with Luna not even me, but right now in this moment of my life I’m done being fucked with. One can only be pushed around, toyed and fucked with until totally jumping off the deep end.

  I mimic his voice the best I know and, if I do say so myself, I nail it. “Brady.”

  “Goddamn kids.” Dad tosses down his cloth napkin and I’m time warped back to fourth grade.

  “By all means, Luna, go ahead and explain why I’m not good enough to walk to school with you.”

  I’ve always been a daddy’s girl and never feared or waivered at his threats.

  “I’m best friends with…” Luna stutters the whole phrase making it barely audible.

  I lean in waiting for her to finish it. Several seconds of silence floats by without her saying a word.

  “I’ll walk you and Sadie to school in the morning.” My mother stands and begins gathering empty plates. I snatch a wedge of a clubhouse sandwich before she gets all the plates. I know the jerks are hiding something from me, and I’m also aware that I’m beyond physically and emotionally exhausted, but I’m ready to fight for some strange reason. I pray to God this isn’t a pregnancy craving because if it is I’ll be in the MMA championship before long.

  “Nice cover up, Mother.” I never break my stare from the fidgeting Luna.

  “Don’t call me mother.”

  “Then don’t lie to me,” I press the entire group.

  Brady finally stands to his feet. “You’ve been gone ten years, Blanche you haven’t been here for shit. Luna’s best friend is Moira, so get over it.”

  “I see.”
I slowly rise from the table meeting Brady’s stare head on. “Memo received. I’ll walk my own daughter and find my own place here. Clearly, I’m not welcome.”

  “Mom, who’s Moria?” Sadie asks as I grab her from the table.

  “The whore I flipped the bird to when we drove into town.”

  “Blanche.” The whole table roars in unison.

  “Oh, bite my ass.”

  I cradle Sadie to my side and begin to tackle the two flights of stairs to my old room.

  Peppy Peter’s Pickle, or Pickle Peter Peppy, or whatever in the fuck it was, is sounding like paradise to my reality.

  “Blanche.”

  I freeze midway the first flight of stairs and turn towards the dining room.

  “Fine, mother dear, Sadie will do soccer for Christ’s sake, and I’ll remain twenty steps behind Luna and the town whore.”

  “Blanche.”

  I whisper, “Fuck off, Mother.”

  And then continue my steps up the flight of stairs. Once at the top, with my hand on the door to my old room, I turn to Sadie. “If you ever tell me to fuck off, I’ll…”

  “You’ll chop off my nipples.”

  Her answer shocks me, but I’m too exhausted to adult right now.

  Chapter 4

  The Walk of Shame

  My eyes are heavy with sleep, even though the alarm on my phone keeps singing out its high pitch beep. The bed dips and I feel Sadie’s warmth vanish, so I burrow deeper into the blankets and fall back asleep. My mom’s voice hums in the background paired with Sadie’s.

  Guilt nails me in the gut, but sleep is more important right now. I hit snooze three more times before forcing myself to the bathroom right off my bedroom. A floral scent assaults my senses and in a knee jerk reaction I’m praying to the porcelain Gods.

  “Mom, are you okay?” I peer up to Sadie peeking around the corner.

  “Fine, baby.” I use the bath towel to wipe the back of my mouth.

  “Do you like my hair?” She enters the bathroom in her full glory.

  I’m transported back to my school years when I focus in on Sadie’s curled pigtails secured with perfectly placed gingham bows.

  “Do you like it?” I tread lightly on the subject.

  “I love it, Mom. I look like you when you were school.”

  “That you do.” I wash my face and quickly brush my teeth while carrying on a conversation with her.

  “Grandma said I’m like the mini you.”

  “I disagree.” The chilled water splashed on my face helps the sleepy tones disappear from my face. “You’re much cuter, braver, and a whole lot sweeter.”

  “Grandma said that too.”

  “She what?” I spray toothpaste on the clean mirror.

  “Gotcha, mom.” Sadie falls into a fit of giggles on the tile floor.

  “You’re dead meat, kid, after I get these teeth brushed.” Quickly, I whirl the brush over my grime-covered teeth forcing myself to ignore how disgusting they are. I silence my gags as I finish up.

  I fall into a heap next to my Sadie on the floor and clutch her tight to my side. “Are you sure that your ready for school today? You can stay home.”

  “Mom, I’m so excited I couldn’t sleep all night.” She taps the toes of her brown leather boots.

  Her glittery leggings, trendy boots, and tunic couldn’t be any further fashion wise from her damn hair, but she’s damn proud of those pigtails.

  “I want you to take your cellphone. Keep it in your backpack and call me if you need anything.”

  “Mom, I won’t.”

  “You never know, Sissy, Beaver Falls is so much different than your private school back home.”

  We were broke as hell, but I made damn sure my girl was in a private school, safe, and getting a good education. I would’ve sucked dick to make sure she stayed there.

  “Mom.” Sadie fidgets with her fingers picking at the nail polish on each of her nails. “I don’t want you to get mad, but I need to tell you something.”

  “Go ahead.” I brush her forehead and rest my lips on the top of her head.

  “Please don’t fight with Grandma anymore. I know you were tired last night, but please just let her take care of us. We need someone to finally take care of us.”

  “Oh, Sadie.” I pull her up into my lap and cuddle down into her sweetness. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Momma. I just don’t want to see you stressed anymore and Grandma will take care of us.”

  “Deal, Sissy.” I peer up to see my mother leaning on the door jam with tears streaming from her own eyes. She mouths the words, “I love you, Blanche.”

  I don’t get the right to be stubborn or hateful when it toys with my daughter’s well-being, so I nod back to my mom and decide to make the best of this situation. Even if it means damn youth soccer, walking behind slut biscuit to school every morning, and eating every damn bit of my selfish pride, spoonful by spoonful.

  I make eye contact with my mother. “This doesn’t mean I’ll play nice with Moira though.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to, baby girl.” Mom offers a friendly smile and extends her hand to me. “Let’s get our girl to school.”

  I let my mother pick me up from the floor, and Sadie sandwiches herself right between us as we walk down the stairwell. Mom plucks her shawl from the coat rack and ushers us out of the door. Her pride is contagious, radiating off of her in every direction. She’s definitely her own ray of sunshine today.

  Stepping out into the brisk morning air fully wakes me up. I had no idea how much I missed the clean air. It’s rejuvenating.

  “Sis, you know a fresh outfit wouldn’t kill you?”

  I turn to see Brady leaning up against Clancy’s black truck, I flip him the bird before making eye contact with Clancy. My lady parts clench; soaking up his good looks.

  “Clancy.” I acknowledge him when we walk towards them down the sidewalk.

  “Morning Blanche.”

  “What am I chopped liver?” Brady throws his hands up in the air before Mom smacks him in the chest.

  Brady turns to Sadie, ruffling her pigtails, and harassing her about looking like a mini me. Mom swats at Brady, scolding him not to ruin her hair or bows. Just like the good ol’ days, I think to myself.

  Closing the distance between Clancy, I try to gate off some privacy between us. I shade my eyes with my hands and look up to him. I sure in the hell don’t remember him towering above me.

  “Hey, about yesterday…”

  He cuts me off before I can go on any further. “Don’t worry about it, Blanche.”

  “No, I feel like an asshole for not recognizing you.”

  “It’s been years,” he shrugs and drags the toe of his boot along the sidewalk.

  “But, no excuse. You were here all the time growing up.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Seriously, accept my apology.”

  “No need for an apology, Blanche. I’m happy you’re home.” He flashes me a dazzling smile.

  “I’m just going to get this out of the way right now…” I fumble for the right words and then realize that there are no politically correct words for what’s about to fly out of my mouth. “Time has been good to you, Clancy. You’re fucking hot.”

  He shifts from foot to foot, before relaxing back on his truck, and swiveling his trucker hat a bit to the side giving me an even better glance at his God-like beauty.

  “Well thank you, I guess.”

  “No problem,” I say, smiling up at him.

  “Time’s been kind to you as well, Blanche, but you’ve always been beautiful.”

  Awkward alert. Danger rising. Shit, what do I say now? Thank you? That seems a bit conceited.

  “I’m guessing you don’t remember our time together?” I ask.

  This time Clancy flushes a light red taking all the awkward shit off my plate and shoving it right on his. “What do you mean?”

  “Clancy Bogart, shame on you.” I taunt him.

 
; “What in the hell are you talking about, Blanche?”

  “Think back to the summer between your freshman and sophomore year. The night before I was leaving town.”

  He readjusts his hat, scratching his head for a moment, and then I see the realization dawn on every single one of his features. His lips curl up in a shy smile and I know it’s my time to exit.

  “Let’s go, girls!” I turn to my mom whose readjusting Sadie’s hair.

  The three of us begin walking down the sidewalk. It’s the lightest my feet have hit the pavement in years. I’m not sure if it’s the fresh morning air, birds chirping, or flirting with Clancy.

  “Blanche.” I hear Clancy holler.

  I turn back to him and throw both arms up in surrender. “I couldn’t have been that beautiful back then if you didn’t remember that night.”

  I can’t help but let out a hearty laugh that borders on the obnoxious side and then turn and clutch Sadie’s little hand. The walk brings back waves and waves of emotions and memories. Mom chatters the whole time, instructing Sadie on the ways of Beaver Falls.

  “And don’t you ever take a whole wheat roll from Linda at lunch.”

  “Why, Grandma?”

  “Because my rolls are better and quite frankly I don’t like her.”

  I try to muffle my giggles remembering just how much my mother despises Linda Lewis and her very perky tits that use to love to rest on my daddy’s shoulder at church every single Sunday. If my mother could John Cena someone’s ass it would be Linda, her perfect tits, and amazing rolls. Brady and I use to stuff them in our backpacks and wolf them down before we got home.

  “I promise, Grandma.”

  Moira’s shiny fuck me dress comes into view when we walk across the playground. I wonder if her lady bits ever get frostbite during the winter months. I mean her kitty has to be chapped between the dick it houses and the cold weather nipping at it. Fuck, I hate the bitch. She made me out as the biggest fool my senior year and I’ll never forget her. I hope her beaver has lice, warts, and fleas. Can a pussy have fleas?

  “Blanche.” I pry my gaze from the walking STD to my mom.

  “Uh?”