“How’s my little miracle baby?” Mark's mom had just picked him up from school. Seriously, she smothered him. He tried to be like, “Stop hugging me, Mom,” but he got it. The woman wasn’t supposed to be able to have kids and had a five percent chance of ever getting pregnant again let alone surviving. His mom was a walking miracle herself, on meds for the rest of her life but she was so much more vibrant than women younger and healthier than her.
“I’m fine, Mom. Can I get in the car?” She finally released him and let him hop in the passenger side. She had one more child to pick up. Her daughter was driving age. It had been a year since her independence had started but Mark’s mom still acted like his sister had gone sixteen only yesterday. She greeted her other son with the same enthusiasm. He was much more resistant. This did nothing to deter her.
When they got home, no one else was in the house. Dad was out working still and his sister, well, who knew. She didn’t get along well with their father. She spent as little time in the house as possible. Cooking wasn’t his mom’s strongest point. It was very hit or miss with her, but when she was on, she was really on. The smells wafting through the house as he did his homework were distracting him.
Mark looked over to his brother, and it was obvious that his brother was having the same problem. Any world where food didn’t take priority over everything else was a world Mark hoped he never had to live in.
***
“Okay, I’m done. It’s time to eat.” Mark was over it. Whatever work he had not yet finished would still be there after he was sufficiently stuffed. Right on cue, his sister walked in.
“Dinner is ready? Is that man you call a husband home?” Mark’s mother ignored her. His sister had gotten into the habit of not even calling their father Dad anymore. Or even by his name. Mark couldn’t lie; he was glad he wasn’t home. Dinner was served. They were laughing, enjoying each other’s company. But most good things don’t last. Hours later, his dad did come home.
“Daughter.”
“Sperm donor.”
“You’re just going to let her talk to me like that?” He addressed his wife.
“Well, it is what you are. What else do you do around here other than complain and stick your penis in other women?” Janene continued.
“See. This is why I spend so little time here. You can’t even control your own children.”
“She’s your child too,” Mark’s mother responded. Then it got ugly, verbally, so much so that Mark just couldn’t deal with it anymore.
“Why can’t you just be happy, like other families?” Mark stormed off to his room and left his family to continue their argument. He tried to convince himself that his dad wasn’t a self-centered asshole and actually cared about them. But it wasn’t true. All he did was make their mother feel like he was so awesome she should be lucky to have him, that her world would be nothing without him. And he gave her three children knowing she might not survive and that no one else would give her the dream of a family. Basically, he saw himself as her saviour. And he saw her as this woman who should worship him. And he was very vocal about it.
Mark, he just lay on his bed and cried into his pillow. How could one person be so evil and how could words hurt so much? Why was he so mad without a single punch ever being thrown?
While he sobbed, his sister came in. The house had been quiet for a while, so clearly their dad had left to go be with another woman.
“You okay?”
Mark turned around and saw that his sister was packed like she was going on vacation.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from here. I can’t live with that man for another day. One of my friends has graciously offered up their basement bedroom for me.”
“Really?”
“Well, the basement couch. The bedroom is still under construction and probably won’t be done by the time I move out, but that’s not the point. How are you doing?”
“What’s wrong with Dad?”
“Other than being a bad human being he’s okay. But he treats Mom like trash. Honestly, some days I wish he’d hit her. She’d leave him in a minute. Verbal abuse, she doesn’t care so much. She has three children, lost much more than that and is lucky to be alive herself. She’s content if not happy.”
“Can’t you take me with you?”
“I would but you know I can’t cook.”
“You can microwave. That’s close enough.” His sister laughed.
“You’ll be okay. And I’m just a phone call away.”
“What about school? Who’s going to send you to college next year?”
“I have help. I can’t tell you about that though. Top secret. Did you finish your schoolwork or did you just stall until food was ready again?”
“School is the world's stupidest invention.”
“It gets better.”
“Really?” Mark looked up with expectation. Seeking validation. “Please tell me the torture will not last forever.” He didn’t get it though. She just smiled. That was code for no it wouldn’t. If he was going to do more work he needed more food. There was never a reason not to eat food.
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