Corrigan ignored him and downed my drink. He stood up and refilled it behind the cook’s doorway.
Marcus stood helpless behind him.
Corrigan returned to the table and sat it in front of me.
“You’re a jerk,” I murmured.
Corrigan shrugged, but he patted my knee underneath the table.
“So we got a game going.” Chet spoke up and the conversation was off and running. Corrigan lapped it up. He wanted a distraction from whatever he didn’t want to talk about.
A few minutes later, Marcus brought the drinks and our food wasn’t too far behind. I sat back and poked at my salad as the guys talked more about soccer and Harris’ party. They started planning an elaborate drinking game that consisted of a chart with relays when my phone rang.
I didn’t recognize the number so I answered.
“Hi, sweetie,” my mother’s sickening sweet voice drawled across the other end.
I stilled and asked, tensely, “What do you want?”
“I wanted to let you know my new number, sweetie. You should’ve gotten my message, but I know you don’t always think to check the house’s line.”
Her voice disgusted me and I had to take a deep breath to clear the nausea.
“Fine.” It was all I could manage out as I choked on the inside.
“Honey.” Only my mother could make concern sound like contempt. Not to mention condescension.
“I’m fine. Really.” I gripped the phone harder, but I knew my face looked fine, probably a little bored.
“Do we need to talk about this? I want you to know, Sheldon Eva, that I am your mother and I love you very much.”
Funny. She sounded like she’d been drinking.
She continued, “This is for the best. It really is. Your father and I just reached a point in the marriage when it was time to part ways.”
“Did you sleep with someone?” It’s something she’d do.
“Sweetie.” Sharon hadn’t liked that. She heaved a dramatic sigh. “Are you angry with me? This really is for the best. A harmonious parental unit benefits the child better.
Neil and I were not harmonious. This is for you really, honey, more than your father and myself.”
“What?” My eyes went cold. “Did you pick up that language in therapy?”
She was quiet for a moment and then said stiffly, “Your father and I did try some marital counseling.”
“You went once and said it wasn’t for you?” I guessed.
“Sheldon, you need to watch your tone with me.”
“I am watching, Sharon. My tone is completely calm and ladylike. I am not angry,” I bit out. “I am not bitter,” I spat. “I am not sad,” I chewed out. “And I am most certainly not feeling abandoned at all.” I finished with a smile.
She drew a sharp breath and said flatly, “Fine.”
“Fine.”
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“Sure you do,” I said smoothly.
“I really do. I’ll see you over the holidays.”
“You’re coming home for Thanksgiving?”
“Yes. I’ll need to pack my things and look for a new home.”
“And who’ll be looking with you?”
“You don’t need to worry about that. Just a little friend.”
So she had slept with someone.
I asked, “You’re still sleeping with him?”
She sucked in her breath again and admonished, “Sheldon Eva, I will not put up with your tone of voice any longer. You are to respect your mother. This is hard on all of us, trust me, but I think it’s a bit more tiring on your father and myself. You’ve told us many times to get a divorce.”
“Great, mom. So you’re just fulfilling one of my wishes.” If I could cut glass with my voice, it would’ve happened then and there.
She sighed, sounding rightfully tiresome. I rolled my eyes.
“Have you heard from your father?”
“Yes.” I didn’t share our conversation.
“Is he well?” Sharon really wanted to know what he’d said and if I loved him more than her.
“He is well.” And I’ll let you worry if I love my father more than you. You deserve it.
“Alright, well…I love you, sweetie.”
I hung up.
The table had fallen silent throughout my entire conversation. I didn’t need to look to know that Bryce and Corrigan were both watching like hawks.
I breathed out one clear breath and stood up.
“Where you going?” Corrigan said quickly.
“I’m going home.” The calm was forced in my voice. I knew my eyes spoke
volumes, but only to Corrigan and Bryce.
“Sheldon…” Bryce murmured.
“I’m fine. I’m going home to do schoolwork. Beg off…please.” The request was sincere.
The guys took it as such and both remained in their seats.
The drive was too short for me. I had plenty to stew over and my hands shook as I parked in the garage and hit the button to close the garage door. I didn’t look for any more notes or messages as I made a beeline for the case of beer still on the kitchen table.
I dropped my purse and at the same time I uncapped a beer. I downed that one and did another.
With three clenched in my fingers, I moved into my father’s study. I decided to start with the computer and I effectively deleted every single business document he had kept as a reserve on the home computer. After I made another search, I emptied the trash can and then removed the hard-drive.
From the hidden liquor cabinet, I placed all the liquor bottles on his desk. When that was done, I grabbed a poker stick from the fireplace and swung it hard at every crystal vase in the library, every picture frame, every and anything that would break. I left the couches and chairs untouched and moved into my parent’s bedroom with a bottle of bourbon in my hand.
With a knife in hand, I visited the closets and slashed the most expensive clothing.
I threw all of Sharon’s undergarments and lingerie into a box that’d go to a local thrift store. Neil’s tuxedos were next for the knife. And all of the neckties, socks, and suits went into the thrift store box.
I ripped his shirts to pieces and let them fall on the floor.
The shoes—they’d started to go a little blurry by that time so I left them in one piece.
Marcus stood helpless behind him.
Corrigan returned to the table and sat it in front of me.
“You’re a jerk,” I murmured.
Corrigan shrugged, but he patted my knee underneath the table.
“So we got a game going.” Chet spoke up and the conversation was off and running. Corrigan lapped it up. He wanted a distraction from whatever he didn’t want to talk about.
A few minutes later, Marcus brought the drinks and our food wasn’t too far behind. I sat back and poked at my salad as the guys talked more about soccer and Harris’ party. They started planning an elaborate drinking game that consisted of a chart with relays when my phone rang.
I didn’t recognize the number so I answered.
“Hi, sweetie,” my mother’s sickening sweet voice drawled across the other end.
I stilled and asked, tensely, “What do you want?”
“I wanted to let you know my new number, sweetie. You should’ve gotten my message, but I know you don’t always think to check the house’s line.”
Her voice disgusted me and I had to take a deep breath to clear the nausea.
“Fine.” It was all I could manage out as I choked on the inside.
“Honey.” Only my mother could make concern sound like contempt. Not to mention condescension.
“I’m fine. Really.” I gripped the phone harder, but I knew my face looked fine, probably a little bored.
“Do we need to talk about this? I want you to know, Sheldon Eva, that I am your mother and I love you very much.”
Funny. She sounded like she’d been drinking.
She continued, “This is for the best. It really is. Your father and I just reached a point in the marriage when it was time to part ways.”
“Did you sleep with someone?” It’s something she’d do.
“Sweetie.” Sharon hadn’t liked that. She heaved a dramatic sigh. “Are you angry with me? This really is for the best. A harmonious parental unit benefits the child better.
Neil and I were not harmonious. This is for you really, honey, more than your father and myself.”
“What?” My eyes went cold. “Did you pick up that language in therapy?”
She was quiet for a moment and then said stiffly, “Your father and I did try some marital counseling.”
“You went once and said it wasn’t for you?” I guessed.
“Sheldon, you need to watch your tone with me.”
“I am watching, Sharon. My tone is completely calm and ladylike. I am not angry,” I bit out. “I am not bitter,” I spat. “I am not sad,” I chewed out. “And I am most certainly not feeling abandoned at all.” I finished with a smile.
She drew a sharp breath and said flatly, “Fine.”
“Fine.”
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“Sure you do,” I said smoothly.
“I really do. I’ll see you over the holidays.”
“You’re coming home for Thanksgiving?”
“Yes. I’ll need to pack my things and look for a new home.”
“And who’ll be looking with you?”
“You don’t need to worry about that. Just a little friend.”
So she had slept with someone.
I asked, “You’re still sleeping with him?”
She sucked in her breath again and admonished, “Sheldon Eva, I will not put up with your tone of voice any longer. You are to respect your mother. This is hard on all of us, trust me, but I think it’s a bit more tiring on your father and myself. You’ve told us many times to get a divorce.”
“Great, mom. So you’re just fulfilling one of my wishes.” If I could cut glass with my voice, it would’ve happened then and there.
She sighed, sounding rightfully tiresome. I rolled my eyes.
“Have you heard from your father?”
“Yes.” I didn’t share our conversation.
“Is he well?” Sharon really wanted to know what he’d said and if I loved him more than her.
“He is well.” And I’ll let you worry if I love my father more than you. You deserve it.
“Alright, well…I love you, sweetie.”
I hung up.
The table had fallen silent throughout my entire conversation. I didn’t need to look to know that Bryce and Corrigan were both watching like hawks.
I breathed out one clear breath and stood up.
“Where you going?” Corrigan said quickly.
“I’m going home.” The calm was forced in my voice. I knew my eyes spoke
volumes, but only to Corrigan and Bryce.
“Sheldon…” Bryce murmured.
“I’m fine. I’m going home to do schoolwork. Beg off…please.” The request was sincere.
The guys took it as such and both remained in their seats.
The drive was too short for me. I had plenty to stew over and my hands shook as I parked in the garage and hit the button to close the garage door. I didn’t look for any more notes or messages as I made a beeline for the case of beer still on the kitchen table.
I dropped my purse and at the same time I uncapped a beer. I downed that one and did another.
With three clenched in my fingers, I moved into my father’s study. I decided to start with the computer and I effectively deleted every single business document he had kept as a reserve on the home computer. After I made another search, I emptied the trash can and then removed the hard-drive.
From the hidden liquor cabinet, I placed all the liquor bottles on his desk. When that was done, I grabbed a poker stick from the fireplace and swung it hard at every crystal vase in the library, every picture frame, every and anything that would break. I left the couches and chairs untouched and moved into my parent’s bedroom with a bottle of bourbon in my hand.
With a knife in hand, I visited the closets and slashed the most expensive clothing.
I threw all of Sharon’s undergarments and lingerie into a box that’d go to a local thrift store. Neil’s tuxedos were next for the knife. And all of the neckties, socks, and suits went into the thrift store box.
I ripped his shirts to pieces and let them fall on the floor.
The shoes—they’d started to go a little blurry by that time so I left them in one piece.
