Tarnished

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Tarnished Page 2

by Erica Chilson


  Serving spoon clattering to the countertop, fear strikes through me and has me shouting before I can filter myself. “You are graduating, right? Tell me you are, even if you have to lie to me.”

  “We’re good, Dad!” Wynn shouts back. “Bren came in seventeenth in our class. Not great, but not last either.”

  “Do-gooder,” Bren snarls. “The perpetual virgin managed to bypass Julie Hancock by a tenth of a point for the top spot. Ms. I’m going to be a doctor,” Bren twists out in a snooty voice. “Let’s see what’s in your yearbook, Golden Boy.”

  “Me!” Hayden squeals, and then a clamoring flows in from the dining room that has me laughing silently.

  I walk in with a bowl in each hand, chuckling at a little boy and a big boy fighting over a yearbook. Hayden lets go abruptly and the book jabs Wynn in the chin. Hopping in from behind, Hayley steals the yearbook while Wynn recovers.

  Placing a bowl in front of Brennan, I slide into the seat next to him. He looks down and out, and I’m not sure if it’s because of what happened between us this morning, or if he’s been silently suffering for a while now. I squeeze his shoulder, hoping he realizes I’m here for him for anything, no matter how fucked up I may be.

  Hayley darts underneath the table, and then pops out safely at the end. She crawls into her seat, adjusts her frilly dress, and then finger-brushes her fauxhawk. Prim and proper, she begins reading to us from Wynn’s yearbook. “Uncle Wynn, you’re the bestest uncle I have, but Uncle Jeb is a close second. If you move away for college, I’ll disown you. Huh? Copper is only five months old. He can’t write yet.”

  “Sis,” Hayden drawls, an eye roll hidden in his tone. He reaches to take the yearbook while she mulls that over. “Aunt Penny wrote it. Hey, Rusty West! I’m gonna miss showering after practice with you. Best view in all of Rusty Knob. You’ve been blessed– Francis R. Parker, frantastic curiosities. Huh?”

  “You boys have some odd friends.” Willa shakes her head, deciding it’s her turn again, but I intercept the trade-off. “Royce!” she squeals, playfully slapping at my hand, giving me a glimpse of the wild girl I remember.

  “My turn!” My eyes widen at the sheer amount of notes from Wynn’s friends. His yearbook is covered in ink. I pick an entry at random. “Hmm… this one looks promising. You little shit, I’ll give you the college experience. I’ll invite the roommate. You’ll hire the limo. & we’ll both get an education– forever a pervert, foster brother lover.” I snap the book shut. “I believe that’s enough for the day.” I thrust the yearbook into a blushing Wynn’s hands.

  “Do tell.” Bren turns to Wynn. “Do tell.”

  A deep, “Yes, do tell,” has us all jumping in our seats. Kade makes his way into the dining room, snagging a piece of bacon on his way. “Torrid stories from Kentwood Area School District,” he says cockily around a mouthful of pork. “My kind of breakfast.”

  “Uncle Kade? Did you write that?” Hayley calls him out, only making his grin bigger.

  “Sure did,” Kade says with a wink. “Best not read the bottom, left-hand corner of the back page.”

  “Oh, Lord.” Wynn shoves his yearbook underneath his t-shirt, and then wraps his arms around himself. “What’s up? What are you doing here?”

  “What? Already sick of seeing me? Almost seven months together, am I boring you?” Taunting Wynn, Kade looks around at all of us, confused. “I thought Royce and I were meeting with Miriam Ross this morning. Am I wrong?” He steals Bren’s untouched plate. “You lick anything on this?” As soon as Bren shakes his head no, Kade’s loading it up with waffles, using the last of Wynn’s ‘precious’ maple syrup.

  I’m surprised when Kaden doesn’t get speared in the hand with a fork like Bren did yesterday morning. Must be Kade will pay Wynn back with the sexual favors displayed on the back page of the yearbook. I have no idea why Kade wrote a poem about the virtues of denim cut-off shorts.

  Snorting at the absurdity my life has taken on, I decide to finally give an answer. “We’re still on. We’re meeting Miriam at nine downtown.” My entire family is all in one place, happy and healthy, so I dig into my oatmeal with gusto. After a few mouthfuls, I decide the queasiness has abated and snag a few pieces of bacon before Kade and Wynn scarf it all down.

  “Am I…?” Willa’s confidence is still weak in all things except for cooking here at the house and for the fire department’s auxiliary. “I mean…” She can’t even ask if she’s invited or not.

  Typical Willa. The fifteen-year-old girl I met when my brother dragged Willa home is slowly erupting again. The confident, demanding young woman I knew– the same scary Gillette personality that popped out during Wynn’s teenage asshole phase. Willa’s lack of confidence makes me sad, but not as much as that broken girl she was for three horrific years. It’s been a slow road of progress, but Willa’s getting there.

  “Hey,” murmurs softly from my lips. I lean into Willa, and Wynn snaps into action. The older boys instinctively know to keep the little ones engaged so Willa and I can speak as privately as our dining room table will allow. I rest my lips on her ear, a trick I learned a lifetime ago that is Willa’s off switch, or on switch, depending on the situation.

  “Willa, sweetheart. I asked you last week. I haven’t changed my mind. If I say it, I mean it. Remember?” She wants to believe me, and she’ll never voice why she can’t. “I understand,” I say with great patience. “Donny was hot and cold, and I look and sound just like him. But my words are my own, as are my actions. I’ll never let you go through this alone.”

  “I…” Willa’s eyes flick around the room, taking in how Kade is chowing down while the boys and Hayley tease Hayden for having a crush on a little girl named Hannah. When Willa’s vivid blue eyes finally settle on me, my breath catches like always. “Donny only hurt me once a month when he got frustrated, you know that. But… how could I trust him the rest of the month?”

  “I’m not Donny,” I whisper back, when I’d rather scream it into Willa’s face. My guts twist up again, threatening to erupt oatmeal all over the table. “I was the one who stopped him from doing that.” The ‘which is what put us in the hospital, got a man murdered, and put Donny in prison’ goes without saying.

  “Should I…” Willa’s fingertips flutter along her hair, and then fall to straighten her blouse. “Should I dress nicer, more professional?” She’s wearing a baby blue blouse and a pair of white pants that are chopped off below her knees. Whatever the hell they’re called; I know they’re not shorts, but not pants, either.

  My smile is huge. I don’t want Willa to think I’m laughing at her, but I can’t help but be endlessly amused by her. She is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. So young and innocent yet aged by her jadedness.

  I’ve seen Willa staring at photographs of Annie, studying them, like she has to dress or act or behave a certain way. I don’t want Annie’s clone. All that would do is make me miss Annie more. I want Willa to be as chaotic as I know she is deep down.

  A laugh slips out when I look at Kade, wearing a pair of dirty jeans and a XXL pink t-shirt with an ancient gray and white flannel over top– the flannel he keeps trading back and forth with Wynn during the weird mating dance they play. To top the ‘I don’t give a fuck’ sundae, Kade’s shirt has a big rooster with Cock-a-doodle-doo printed across it.

  Professional? Ha!

  “Dress however you wish.” I reach up to stroke Willa’s earlobe. My grin gets brighter when her eyelids droop. “You know how much I love you in white.” My tone is loaded with innuendo from over our lifetime together. “I want you to be comfortable. So no worrying about how you look instead of having a voice this morning.” I lean forward and breathe into her ear. “You’ll be surrounded by your family, so don’t fret over the people you don’t know. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Willa’s smile is magnificent, open and innocent– the young woman she should have been, which is why we need to get this show on the road.

  “Time for school.” I push
away from the table. “Time for the adults to go to work.”

  Kade groans loud over that, after having a six-month hiatus where he sat on his ass tying flies and playing video games. Depressed, I couldn’t get him to work. The asshole knew he had me by the balls. I either paid for his mortgage, or he’d move back in here– with Wynn. Unlike Wynn, Kade has no issue opening my wallet and taking out whatever he needs, which is why they got into no less than four fist fights this past month. I didn’t allow Wynn to be alone with Kade after each fight, fearing explosive make-up sex.

  But I’m eighteen!

  Wynn doesn’t see the darkness lurking beneath Kade’s surface. I recognize it because it matches my own. I didn’t care how much whining and teenage asshole Wynn I had to put up with, he was not going to be taken advantage of by Kade. I love them both, and I won’t allow them to destroy each other like Willa and I did– and we took Donny and Sean with us.

  I’m un-depressing Kaden Marx this morning, especially since I know it will only get worse once Wynn runs off to college. Not allocated in his scholarship, I just paid for Wynn’s room and board last week. I’m positive Kade was envisioning kicking me in the nuts when he found out. Oddly enough, Wynn seems really excited to get away. But that’s probably because Jack’s his roommate.

  Willa and I enter co-parent-mode with practiced ease. Backpacks, lunches, homework and shoes accounted for. Wiggly, cuddly goodbyes that simultaneously hurt because I don’t want to let them go, but offer a feeling of relief because I can breathe for five minutes without having to take care of someone every second.

  At almost eight, Hayden and Hayley are big kids now. They march out the door to join the horde of children flowing down the sidewalk, and I trust them enough to let them go.

  … But Bren doesn’t. “Later, Dad.” I get a wave, but Willa gets a peck on the cheek. “Later, Willa!” Then he’s off to keep pace with the twins, trailing them a hundred feet behind so they feel independent.

  Willa and I roll our eyes at each other and groan. We start picking up the table while Wynn and Kade say their goodbyes for all of seven long, excruciating hours. It’s a drawn out affair, anywhere from a minute to fifteen.

  I’m not in the mood to play voyeur today while they do their foreplay bullshit with the flannel shirt exchange. I’d like to keep my oatmeal down. Something about seeing my foster son and my adopted son doing cutesy talk makes me want to retch in my mouth. Which entertains the hell out of Willa.

  My fingers twist in the collar of Kaden’s flannel. With a rough yank, I jerk it off his back. “Here,” I thrust the nasty thing at Wynn, scared to death they have sex while wearing it– or whatever the hell you call whatever they do at Kade’s house when they think I’m too stupid to notice. “Put the dang thing on and get your ass to school. It’s your last week, and you should be with your friends, not debating who is going to miss who more.”

  Carrying a stack of plates, Willa’s riotous laughter trails after her from the kitchen. “Sometimes I wish they were both little guys, because even I want to kick their asses. I prefer Bren’s random hookups. At least they don’t do the walk of shame by the breakfast table.”

  “I’m still a virgin.” Wynn goes on the defensive. “Mostly.”

  “Ain’t no shame in that,” Kade volleys back. “Same here.”

  Pointing at Wynn, Willa shouts in her momma voice, “Git out!” slipping back into her former diction. “Git out and git yer ass ta school. Yer gonna give yer dad an aneurysm.”

  Immune, Wynn laughs while slipping Kade the tongue for shock-value. Almost taking Kade to the floor, the chair tips sideways. They maul one another to get a rise out of Willa and me. “Git!” Willa gives a swift kick to Wynn’s big ass, knocking him loose of Kade’s mouth. “Git before I grab the hose and turn it on ya.”

  Tugging on that foul flannel shirt, “Going…” Wynn sings, happier than usual. “Going,” he keeps it up all the way to the front door. “Gone!” he shouts from the sidewalk.

  “You!” Willa points a butter knife at Kade. “Git yer ass up ta Wynn’s room and put on one of his nicer outfits, but dab on some deodorant first. You stink.” She gives an exaggerated shudder. “Nasty. We’re meeting a bunch of important people today, and you’re supposed to be our new director. You can’t show up flaunting how much you crave cock and are scared of soap.”

  I let Willa go off because there are only three people on this earth she does this to: Warren, Wynn, and Kaden. With a respectful authority given to the twins, and a teensy bit to Bren. But she lets those three fools have it with both barrels, and I hate to admit but it makes me harder than hell.

  I miss this take-charge side of Willa. I don’t dare let my mind drift back to a time when I was someone she told what to do, because those are some of my fondest and most shameful memories.

  Also immune, Kade just stays at the table, reaching for his fork to continue cleaning his plate. “I’m older than you are, Willamina, remember?”

  Charging forward, “By seven whole months. Whoop-dee-doo. Then act like it, ya bum. Git up! And don’t do nothing nasty in Wynn’s room. I knows how you are.”

  Turning around to face the wall, I laugh into the back of my hand, but my body is quaking violently. “I just… can’t.” I bust out laughing as Kade stomps from the room, Wolverines pounding up the staircase.

  Out of reflex, I reach out and grab Willa as she walks past. I hook my arm around her waist to draw her against my chest. I bury my face against the side of her neck, laughing so hard my belly hurts.

  “I’ve known that little peckerwood since I was four,” Willa goes off in a serious tone. “He used to brandish his willy, flicking and waving it at me when he pissed in the yard. You just know he’s up there jerking off on Wynn’s pillow, or something equally nasty.”

  “Willa,” I gasp out, barely able to breathe. “Lord, help me.” I squeeze her tighter. “Kade’s a guy. We’re nasty creatures by default.”

  “So you think Kade’s tugging on his willy up there right now?” Willa looks up at the ceiling, her face twisted in revulsion.

  All I can do is laugh harder– wheezing. I have to press Willa closer to me to push on my aching stomach muscles. “Knowing him, he’ll probably wipe it on the doorknob when he’s finished.” That does it, Willa breaks down with me. Clutching me just as tight, we laugh so hard tears are spilling from our eyes.

  “I think I’m gonna pee my pants.” Willa runs off, still laughing. “Dang kids ruined my bladder.”

  Life skills

  Exiting the house and then locking up, I call out. “Do you have everything we need, Kade?”

  Kade’s overdressed to rub Willa the wrong way, wearing a pair of dress pants, a lavender button-up, suspenders, and an oversized yellow bowtie he must have snagged from the Halloween costume trunk.

  Kade has a real issue with authority. He doesn’t like to be told what to do, and turns into a self-righteous prick. But if he wants to look like a moron, then I’ll laugh at him instead of getting angry.

  Hazel eyes squinting up at me from the driveway, “You mean the busywork you used to distract me?” Kade calls my bluff. “Yeah, I got it. It’s in the Durango– c’mon, we’ll take my car.”

  “Nah,” I mutter, trying to hide my grimace. I’m not getting anywhere near the shaggin’ wagon. “I’m teaching Willa to drive, so she has to chauffeur us everywhere.”

  “You don’t know how to drive?” Voice drawn out and incredulous, I want to beat Kade for upsetting Willa. But he’s digging the files and laptop out of his backseat before I can lay into him. He pops out like a good boy who did as he was told, so I let it go.

  Evil smirk twisting her lips, Willa palms the fob while walking backward. I miss a step, nearly tripping from the naughty glint in her eye. Kade’s footfall lands wrong, and he catches himself before he tumbles to the ground. Willa and Wynn share a few expressions and their attitudes mirror one another. No doubt Kade just figured that out and doesn’t know what to do with the knowled
ge.

  “Well, see…” Willa flashes Kade a predatory look. “Seeing as how I was only fifteen when I was hitched, and the only thing my husband wanted out of me was proof his dick didn’t fire off blanks, I never got my license. Never had a car. Never had a job.” She narrows her eyes like she’s envisioning punching Kade in the nads. “But you know the rest of the story, Mr. Woe-is-Me.”

  Chuckling to himself, Kade gets into the passenger seat. “I’m 6’4”, my ass ain’t fitting in the backseat,” he answers my glare. “You can get your jollies off once we get to the new building.”

  “And to think…” I crawl into Willa’s car, squeezing into the backseat. “I chose you as my son, and this is how you repay me?”

  “Guilt trip, much?” Kade peeks at me over his shoulder. “We need a game plan going in.”

  “I’m freaking the fuck out.” Willa’s voice breaks as she pulls out of the driveway, and I fear Kade sitting in the front seat isn’t a good idea. We’ve yet to graduate to the kids tagging along on our rides. But she surprises me as usual. “Lawyers. Bankers. People from the government. I don’t want to make a fool out of you, Royce. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

  “But then who would have driven us?” Kade bops Willa on the nose. “I was dressed like a gay bum for a reason. How you look or where you came from doesn’t have a thing to do with the brains in your head. Those assholes had the same education I did, and I can guarantee they don’t have a lick of sense.”

  “It’s true,” I pipe in from the backseat. “I’m self-taught by trial and error, things I learned by repetition. When I have to cut through all that red tape mumbo jumbo with the government, they make it seem like something that took me five minutes to complete will take nine employees with multiple degrees a month of constant work. Which is why we’re doing this project in the first place.”

  “I hear ya on that.” Kade grunts. “Fuck you very much, Kentwood Area School District, for making my degrees obsolete.”

 

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