“I can’t,” Deana said.
“You scared?” he asked. “Let’s both go and get in bed with her.”
“Trust me, Evan, that’s not what she needs,” Deana said. “There is some crazy shit going on, and she needs us . . . our help.”
The intense, dark stare and the solemn expression on his sister’s face made him nervous. “What are you talking about? Did she say something?”
“No, but she didn’t have to, I could tell,” Deana said.
“How?”
“It’s a girl thing, we just know stuff.”
“Stuff,” he mumbled. “What stuff?”
“Like when another girl is in love. Mom’s in love with someone.”
“Huh? Who, me?”
“Yes, I’m sure she loves you, but there is someone else, someone who she has been in love with for a while, and I think we’re complicating things for her.”
“You mean me, I’m complicating things, but how could she be? Mom doesn’t know anyone, any men, and she never goes anywhere. Who could she possibly be in love with?”
“I didn’t mean you, I meant me—us, and I don’t think it’s a man,” Deana said.
He got up, pulling Deana to her feet, held her face in his hands, and stared into her eyes. “Who is it?” His sister knew.
“I don’t, don’t know,” Deana said and struggled.
He held on tight. “Dee, why don’t you trust me?”
“I do, I swear, more than anybody. It’s you and me, and—” Deana sank into his hug. “It’s us against the world, the same as it’s been since Mommy was taken away from us.”
The pain Deana felt evoked a sudden rage. “I love you, no matter what, I’ll always love you.”
“I know that,” she said.
“Then you should tell me things, the stuff you don’t want me to know.”
“I will,” Deana said. “Mom might know about us. I don’t know how long she was home, or if she knows I came from your room, so go find out if we’re in trouble.”
“Why me?”
“She’s used to you being in her room. Find out if she knows, and that’s all, don’t ask her any questions or do what you normally do.”
Evan nodded. “Fine, I’ll do it in a little while, but I’m hungry. Did we even eat anything today?”
“Not unless you count what you did to me in Gloria’s room.” His sister almost smiled. “The rest of the time, we were sleeping.”
“I guess we were,” he said. “You wore me out yesterday with all that—”
“Wait a second, I’m the one who should be worn out . . . or at least sore, which I am, thank you very much.”
“Anytime.”
“Mom said we should handle dinner without her, but I think she expects us to wear clothes.”
A shiver-jerk spazzed his body. “Fuck, can you imagine if we could live like this forever?”
“Honestly, I don’t think I could stand seeing Mom and Gloria naked without—”
“No, please don’t say it,” he said. “I can’t think about that right now. I’m too hungry to have a boner.”
“Phew, let me write that down, it’s a first.”
Evan shook his head and went to go to his room for clothes.
Darlene rotated the scissors, the point dug into her thigh, she paused, applied more pressure, and turned them the other way. Her skin stretched, threatening to tear. It was one of those situations that she should write about. Her journal and favorite pen were on the floor between her outstretched legs. The school psychologist always said, “Speak to a parent or other trusted adult rather than acting out.” Darlene shifted, and the beanbag seat crunched under her ass. Her parent was passed out on the couch with her mouth hanging open, and Darlene had considered pissing down the woman’s throat.
Ms. Style was the only adult she trusted, but she was off to California, again. Boy George was her next thought. She could sneak into the Andersons’ backyard and let him fuck her. If Mr. Anderson caught them, he might fuck her, too.
It had never made Darlene feel less abandoned, but assuming her mother was a meth addict, at least gave the woman an excuse. Gloria said the woman who was supposedly her mother was cool, rich, and they all went skinny dipping in her giant pool. That was the kind of mother Darlene had always dreamed about, someone like Ms. Style, without a cock, of course.
Darlene liked Gloria, and wanted to be excited with her about finally meeting her aunt, but not knowing any of your mother’s family wasn’t as bad as not knowing who your parents were. Still, Darlene wanted to be happy for Gloria. It wasn’t her fault, and she had always been kind. Gloria was the type of sister Darlene would want, but she’d settle for a kissing cousin, and that kid sure knew how to kiss.
A burst of piss shot across the crappy carpet. Blots soaked into the top page of her journal. She watched the blue ink spread out as the paper swelled, blurring her previous thoughts. The scissors drew blood, Darlene stiffened, and released the three Cokes she drank earlier in a long arching stream. The golden liquid splattered her feet and ankles. It was better than drowning the woman in the other room or getting caught with a dog’s dick in her, wasn’t it?
Darlene swore and punctured her leg again. It was stupid to let herself imagine a family and happily ever after. That wasn’t her lot in life. Sally probably wasn’t her mother, anyway, but even if she were, the woman had given her up when she was a baby. Was there any excuse for that?
After Evan ate lots of things his mother wouldn’t make for dinner, he stood outside his parent’s door. It was a minute before he raised his fist but still didn’t knock. If Candy was asleep, Evan wanted her to stay that way, for now. If she was awake, she might pretend she wasn’t, and he’d be in trouble for entering anyway. You’re the man of the house, he told himself and went in. Candy was in bed on her back. He locked the door, walked over, and stood there, staring. Her left leg was straight, foot uncovered, and the other leg was bent, forming a triangle under the sheet. It appeared she had been propped up on two pillows, but they were only under her left shoulder, now, twisting her upper body to the right. It seemed uncomfortable. Maybe she’ll need a massage, Evan thought.
The silky sheet laid loosely over the hills and valleys, masking the sculpted perfection Evan knew so well. Deana’s right, he told himself but kept staring at the outline of his mother’s body, imagining the lazy posture of her breasts, flat stomach, the mound above her pubic bone, and the thick swells of labia. If Candy spread her legs, the outer flaps would part and flaunt the fiery pink of her inner flesh. The memory of the first time his tongue was engulfed in the pungent, womanly juices made his body stiffen and jerk. It had taken his breath away.
Candy’s cute little feet had been the first thing Evan noticed the night he snuck into her room and saw those red panties trying to contain the object of thousands of his fantasies.
Evan didn’t have a foot fetish, but he knew from Deana and Miss Tonya what a sensual pleasure zone the feet were. Candy’s pinky toe twitched when his lips approached the ball of her foot. He gently exhaled, and two toes wiggled. What kind of creepy pervert would kiss their mother’s toes while she slept? Pretty much the kind of pervert I’ve become, Evan thought and reached into his pocket. Deana hadn’t said which foot or toe, but only the left was exposed, and that was the one he wanted. It was silly because it wasn’t her hand and that wasn’t what the ring was supposed to symbolize, but he wanted to see it on her left ring toe if there was such a thing.