Blanche

by HJ Bellus

  “Blanche.” My mother’s voice rings out once again and I swivel on my heels to face the south side of the parlor.

  The blood drains from my face and my knees knock together when my gaze falls on an overweight stuffed calico cat that’s set in hissing stance with all of his teeth showing. I scour the room to find my mother, but only stumble upon stuffed dogs, mounted goldfish and even more cats.

  “Mom,” I whimper.

  “Behind the golden retriever, dear.”

  I clutch my hands to my chest and walk quickly through the displays. I want my mommy because quite frankly this shit is frightening. I finally spot the golden retriever and my mother’s ass end up in the air.

  “Mom?”

  “Just second, Blanche. Lost a damn pearl earring again.”

  “Are you picking at that dog’s nuts?”

  “Moira needs to get better at cleaning. There’s dust all over back here.” Mom sits back on her feet. “Found the damn pearl. I swear your dad ordered these from China.”

  “Did you call me?” A new voice joins us and I look up to the skank of all skanks, Miss Moira Cum and Go.

  “Mother.” I grit out between my teeth while clenching my fists at my side trying to control them.

  “Sis, found your way back to our old stomping grounds, eh?” Brady pats me on the shoulder and whirls me around. “What do you think of our new addition?”

  “Am I in the fucking twilight zone?” I ask.

  Brady leans back on the counter and Luna saddles up right next to him.

  “Naw, I tried my hand at taxidermy awhile back and who knew everyone would want their pets stuffed. We hired on Moira to run this division since Luna is too slammed with the human part.” Brady says with a bit of triumph lacing his voice.

  “Division?” I scratch my head. “You actually have a fucking pet taxidermy division in the funeral home now?”

  “Do you think you can actually use the F bomb anymore?”

  I ignore Brady’s jab. “And you hired the town whore to run it. Clever, very clever, Brady, I mean who else would know more about old worn out pussy than Moira? You’re a thinker, brother!”

  “Enough,” Luna tries to protest.

  “Bullshit.” I slam my palm down on the back of some furred creature and momma was right, Moira needs to get her ass to dusting.

  “You can hate me all you want, but I’m damn thankful for your family and what they’ve given me,” Moira says sheepishly.

  I roll my eyes at her pathetic speech and cut her ass off before any of her whorish ways spew on me.

  “One more thing, Whoreasuaraus, you better keep that little inbred, Douchey Doug replica, away from my daughter.”

  “Harry isn’t Doug’s. Brannigan is. She’s in fifth grade,” Luna chirps and Brady nudges her, knowing that’ll add more fuel to the fire.

  “Great. Two kids now? Aren’t you just the teen dream role model!”

  “Blanche.” My mom’s mother voice echoes throughout the funeral home.

  I feel a strong hand land on my shoulder and then my dad’s deep, caring voice. “Simmer down, Rocky.”

  I pat his hand and let one more insult fly. “I ate bitches like you for breakfast back in L.A., I highly suggest you stay clear of me, Moira.”

  I turn into my dad’s hold and begin walking away with an itchy tongue that I can’t control. “And keep your damn legs closed while dusting the dead pets.”

  My dad pulls me into his side a bit tighter and kisses the top of my head. “You need to get over the past, honey.”

  “How in the hell am I supposed to get over the past when I’ve just been thrown head first into it?”

  “Hatred will never get you anywhere.”

  I plop down in the oversized brown leather chair across from his desk and wrinkle my nose at him. He’s always told me since I can remember that hating something or someone will get you nowhere in life.

  “Really, Blanche?” Brady slams open the door.

  “Out Brady. This is none of your business.” Dad readjusts his glasses on his nose while studying a paper on the desk.

  “Guess, times never change. You’ve always saved Blanche from everything. And you wonder why she runs?”

  The door slams with Brady’s last word.

  “He’s bitter and overworked. Don’t mind him.”

  I have no words and am flat out exhausted, so I sink down deep in the leather chair, just like I did when I was Sadie’s age, with my knees curled under me and the side of my head resting on the cool leather, and soon sleep takes over.

  Chapter 6

  Three Days in Hell AKA Beaver Falls

  Luna is a fucking lunatic when it comes to soccer. Who in the hell would’ve thought the hippy loving, lackadaisical woman had it in her? I’ll admit Saige is about the only one on the team that has any talent. Just like his daddy, I think to myself, a born athlete with amazing talent and good looks.

  An elbow nudges me in the side and then I hear a few “Meows”, and look up to see Queenie.

  “Thank God, you’re here.” I slap his shoulder.

  “What did I miss? Did you spork Moira yet? Hair fly?” He scans the crowd looking for Moira.

  “No, I just hate this shit.”

  “Well, I’m skiddadling.”

  “Uh?” I peer up through my shades.

  “I have a hot date in Dollywood tonight.”

  “Bastard. What about Annie?” I point to his niece who’s trying to make grass angels in the goalie box.

  “Sleepover at Luna’s.”

  “Gotcha, Sadie asked to stay there tonight, too.”

  How in the hell all of those kids could fit in that tiny house was beyond me.

  “Want to go with me to Dollywood?” Queenie’s eyebrows shoot up.

  “Naw, I’m just going home.”

  “Pregnancy gotcha down?” Queenie asks.

  “Shut up.”

  “Like anyone heard me.” He waves me off, then goes to fixing his hair in the reflection of my glasses.

  “The fucking grass in Beaver Falls has ears.”

  “Blanche.” A deep voice interrupts us.

  I swivel around to see Clancy standing behind us with his hands tucked in his pockets and a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks.

  “Double Meoooow.” Queenie gives us a few signature cat claws before taking off.

  “Didn’t mean to interrupt.” Clancy steps up closer to me assaulting me with his manly, make women turn to puddles of goo, scent.

  “Oh you didn’t. He has a hot date in Dollywood.”

  A few moments of awkward silence drifts between us, but is quickly broken up by a flying soccer ball that’s promptly stopped by the side of my head. It all happens too fast and I barely catch Clancy hollering out my name, and then him lunging towards me. He breaks up the impact of the hit. But a stinging sensation still lingers on the side of my head.

  When everything clears, I look up to Harry waving and shouting sorry, and then my vision darts to Moira clapping in approval of her son’s death kick.

  “I hate her,” I whisper, rubbing the side of my head.

  “Some things never die?” Clancy digs deeper into one pocket as his flush of embarrassment flares up.

  The fuck? I think to myself. I should be the one dying here, but no it’s the once one nutted- shy clamoring best friend of my younger brother now standing before me as a Greek God with his strong jawline, baby blue eyes, astonishing blond hair and strong chest, that just begs to be mauled by me. Again, I rub the throbbing circle on the side of my head, fighting to put together all the very fucked up and intricate puzzle pieces.

  “You okay? I tried to stop it…” Clancy’s deep voice fades off into the soccer field.

  Along with the deep throbbing pain in the side of my head, I flashback to the pity hand job I gave him on my last night in Beaver hell, which he clearly forgot or then again it only took about ten seconds before his baby batter erupted. Easiest hand job, ever.

  “I�
�m good.” I take a minuscule step back with younger memories flooding me, while fighting to process the situation playing out before me.

  “Your mom mentioned you might be bored tonight.” Clancy relaxes a bit, pulling his hands from his pockets and running them through his shaggy golden locks. My eyes pay particular attention to his six-pack playing peek a book with me between the hem of his shirt and the top of his jeans. I force my hypnotic stare to break away when the golden happy trail teases my vision.

  “Oh, did she?” I contain the throbbing sensation with one hand and wipe away the sex drool leaking from the corner of my mouth with the other.

  “Want to grab dinner?” His innocence plays over all of his features making my girl parts scream louder for him. In this moment, my brain could never convince my ovaries that he has one nut. The years have done the boy very well.

  “I have soccer practice.” I point to the field and simultaneously the worthless whistle from the nerdy coach rings out. I follow Sadie as she gathers her stuff on the sideline, and runs for her Aunt Luna. Sadie offers up a weak wave for me, before she trots off with Saige and Harry.

  The smell of trout floating from a certain lady locker, alerts me to the fact that Moira is staring me down. After the gagging stench of her whoring ways wafts over me, I make eye contact with her. That’s when I notice her stare is the classic hooker one inviting Clancy to her club taco, all you can eat meal.

  I act fast. “I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

  All of Clancy’s features relax. “Cool.”

  “Let me call my mom really quick and then we can get going.”

  I dig my iPhone out of my overstuffed bag and give my mother a jingle, laying down the law about Sadie and the sleepover. She reassures me that she’ll be with Luna and the rest of the kids. I whisper hiss my demands about Moira.

  “Got it, Blanche, go enjoy dinner with Clancy.”

  “Mom.” A silence drifts between the airway. “How did you know that I’m going to eat with Clancy, mother?”

  “Now don’t be pissed, Blanche, but I overheard him telling Brady he wanted to catch up with you and I just…well you could say I set it up for him.”

  “Oh mother…”

  “Blanche, just shut up and enjoy it.”

  “Bye Mommy dear.” I click the end button and throw my phone back in my bag. I walk over to Clancy and link arms with him. “Where to?”

  He looks over at me with his dazzling white and very perfect smile shining in the sunshine. “My place. I bought steaks.”

  I guess steaks at his house is the best option here in the middle of Iowa. Man, how I’d love to go for some sushi right about now.

  “Perfect.” We both begin walking to his black truck.

  “Are you pissed?”

  “About?” I test him.

  “Your mom and this.”

  “Naw,” I shake my head side to side. “I guess I’ve been too uptight since coming home.”

  A deep chuckle escapes Clancy. “Yeah, Brady has said as much.”

  “Little fucker,” I growl.

  Clancy opens the passenger door and holds his hand out to help me in the front of the cab. I stall for a second trying to remember the last time a man has held a door open for me. Before it becomes awkward, I climb into the cab of the truck because not one incident hits me.

  I watch Clancy round the front with his golden hair floating in the breeze. The scent of the cab is rich with man smell, mixed with a musky and rich wood scent. I take a deep breath in and then relax back into the seat. This is only the second time I’ve been fully relaxed since returning to Beaver Falls, the other time was my time spent with Queenie at his salon.

  “Okay?” Clancy asks, as he fires up his truck.

  “Perfect actually. Thanks for saving me from that hell.”

  “That bad?” He asks.

  I twist in my seat and study his profile while he drives. “It’s horrible. Sadie has never been into sports, but they throw her into little league soccer in Beaver Falls. I think I’d rather stab myself with needles in both eyeballs.”

  “Wow.” He raises both of his eyebrows. “Both eyeballs, huh.”

  “Yes, it’s hell. Miles, the coach, is a dumbass and fell on his ass the first day trying to kick a ball. Brady’s boy is the only good player.” I realize my hands are flying with each word I spew. “Oh, and Moira dry humped Miles the second practice. I was just waiting for her to drop to her knees and suck him off on the field.”

  It takes Clancy several minutes to catch his breathe from dying of laughter. “I think you’re being a bit dramatic.”

  “I’m not. I can’t even make this shit up if I tried.” I reach over and slug his shoulder. “Stop laughing at me.”

  “Sorry, Blanche. You’re just too damn cute when you’re all wound up.”

  “Not funny.”

  “Is practice everyday?” Clancy turns down an old dirt road that leads to the open countryside of Beaver Falls.

  “Unfortunately yes, but I guess it’s good so the little Beavers won’t be drooling at their first game.”

  Through more of his contagious laughter, he tries to talk. “I’ll start coming out. See if I can help Sadie.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I finish up wrestling practice around 4:30 and then run a couple miles. I’ll stop by.”

  “You coach?” I play dumb, knowing the answer.

  “Yeah, going on fourth year as Varsity coach.”

  “Awesome! You slept and ate wrestling back in the day.”

  “Still do. It’s just a hobby, not my real job.”

  “What’s your real job?”

  Clancy takes a sharp turn and I’m so awe struck by the house in front of me that I can’t speak. A house with shiny black trim, an intricate wrap around porch, bright red door, and a scaling second-story.

  “Holy shit,” I mumble.

  “I’m a contractor and love building.”

  “Is this yours?” I mindlessly point, admiring the perfectly landscaped lawn and fencing.

  “Yeah, it’s mine.”

  “Clancy, this place is fucking amazing.”

  “Thanks, Blanche. I love it out here.”

  “I’m not going to lie, Clancy, I’m just waiting for your wife and dog to pop out the front door with a plate of warm cookies.”

  “No woman or dog. Just a goldfish, hamster, and a man who loves his place.”

  “Nice. A bit creepy, but nice,” I nod still mesmerized by the simple beauty of it. Clancy shutting his door startles me and before I have the chance to gather my purse, Clancy has the door open for me.

  “Thank you.” I smile back at him.

  “Honestly, Blanche,” Clancy takes a step back, running his hand through his hair. “I really thought you’d turn me down or have a negative attitude.”

  “Yeah.” I kick up some dirt with my sandals. “I haven’t been the most pleasant person lately.”

  “Look, I know you’re getting out of a bad marriage and stuff, but…”

  “Clancy, stop.” I grab his hand in mine. “Let’s enjoy tonight.”

  “Deal.”

  It feels like it take hours touring Clancy’s home, I keep staring at all the intricate details in his home. Each new room or corner we round, I’m blown away. He chats the whole time about his contracting business and how long it took for him to build his house.

  “I never knew your granddad had property out here.” I settle on the tall barstool resting my elbows on the cool marble countertop.

  “Yeah, he never developed it and when he passed, I bought it from the family.”

  I can sense some bitterness in his voice, but don’t press him any further.

  “Who would’ve ever thought Clancy Bogart would have a mansion out near make-out lane?”

  “Oh, make-out lane is still live and well, too.” He turns to face me. “Beer?”

  “No thanks, water?”

  I watch as Clancy turns back to his stainless steel
fridge, bends over, and reaches into the fridge. The top of his pants dips down showcasing his plaid underwear and hugging his amazing ass.

  “Blanche.”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you staring at my ass?”

  “And if I was?” I raise an eyebrow.

  “I’d be flattered.” Clancy straightens up and whirls around with a large bottle of chilled water. “Want to head out to the deck to start grilling?”

  “Sure.”

  I hop down from the stool and help him carry out plates, silverware, and a bowl of salad. He’s a natural at grilling. He sips from a beer while flipping the steaks and keeping up conversation. We laugh about old childhood memories and I catch him up on my time in L.A.

  “He really had you scrubbing J-Lo’s toilet?” Clancy washes down his final bite with a long pull from his beer.

  “Yeah. Pretty pathetic, huh? I was just a sucker.”

  “I’d say more than pathetic. The man sounds like he’s in need of a good ass whooping.”

  “I was dumb to stay so long.”

  “Blanche, don’t ever say that again. He sounds like a grade a asshole who knew how to use you and push your buttons.”

  “Yeah, at least I got Sadie out of the deal.” And peanut junior growing in my tummy, I think to myself.

  The conversation flows easily between us, sharing old memories and filling each other in from the time that lapsed since high school.

  “Enough about me and being married to Captain Dickhead. What about your love life?”

  “You’re looking at her.” He tips his beer back towards his house.

  “Well, we’ve established that, but I’m talking lady friends,” I waggled my eyebrows at him and enjoy my last bite of tender steak.

  “Haven’t had any?” I slap my fork down on the table. “You liar.”

  “There’s been a few one night stands here and there, but that’s it.” Clancy stretches out his long legs in front of him, resting his hands on the back of his head. A sliver of tanned abs peek out between the hem of his jeans and bottom of his shirt.

  “Are you batting for the other team?” Please God let Clancy be in love with pussy and not sausage.