Chapter Six
Marshall
Lunch was done with and boy was I a nervous wreck. I think Margret could tell. My hands were shaking while being hidden underneath the table. My mom stood up. “Morgan, why don’t you help me clean up? It’s been forever since we had some girl time.” My mom looked over my way. I knew that was her signal. I cleared my throat. “I can take the boys, we can watch TV. Com’on boys.” Morgan looked a little scared but seemed happy to have time with grandma. She started helping to clean up the table.
The boys went into the living room, I followed along with Margret. We sat down for a minute before I made up some kind of excuse to get up, signaling Margret to follow. I got up; she followed me, standing behind the kitchen wall to listen in. Margret let out a small sigh. Whispering. “I don’t like this. Spying, on our daughter?”
“I know but she won’t talk outright to us, pushing her to talk will only drive her away.”
She looked down. “I guess. When are we supposed to...walk in?”
“After she confesses.” I heard my mom talking over the sound of running water.
“So how’s school? Your father says you’re not in science club anymore.”
“No. Not for a while.”
“Why is that? You love science.”
There was a pause between them before Morgan spoke again. The water stopped running. “Just...didn't want to.”
“Is it maybe friends don’t think it’s cool? A boy?”
There was another pause before Morgan spoke again, sounding nervous. “A boy.”
“Oh? What’s his name?”
“Brent. He’s a little older.”
“How much older?” I wanted so badly to look in, to see if she looked terrified or nervous.
I could only go by her voice. “Please don’t tell mom or dad?”
“As long as he’s good to you. Now tell me.”
Morgan let out a breath. “He’s a sophomore in college. We met last year after an all-school science competition. Both high school and college competed. There was an after party and my friends were invited and everyone was going. I was upset at the party cause one of my friends went after someone they knew I liked. Brent came and tried to cheer me up. He gave me a drink-” I tensed hearing Morgan cut herself off.
Margret held my hand a little tighter. My mother spoke, softly. “What kind of drink sweetie?”
I could practically feel the fear coming off of my daughter in waves. She continued, sounding so small and scared. “Please don’t be mad?”
“Baby, of course not. I want to make sure everything is ok in your life.”
“It’s really not.”
I heard a chair move. My mother speaking. “Let’s sit down, ok?” There was a pause before Morgan spoke, her voice wobbling.
“I was upset and he tried to cheer me up but it wasn't working. I kind of just wanted to be alone but he got me a drink but...but I think something was in it because everything after that was really fuzzy and I could barely move...” Her voice got thicker, cracking as she spoke low. “Grandma...he took my virginity...I couldn't do anything.”
Morgan was crying now and it was so hard to stay hidden. Margret held my hand in a vice grip, wanting to go in just as badly. My mother continued. “Shh it’s alright sweetie. Are you still seeing him?”
“Yes. I don’t know what to do. Somehow no matter what I do I’m always in the way and I always make him mad. If I don’t do something he wants he hurts me. I’ve tried to break things off but it just makes him worse.”
I signaled to Margret to move in, slowly, faking shock. I started. “Morgan, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” My mother was hugging Morgan close. And Morgan saw us, gasping, and sitting up from my mother’s hold. “Oh God. Mom...dad...” She wiped some tears away.
Margret frowned, going over to the two. “What’s going on?” My mother sighed. “She’s dating someone not so nice.” Morgan looked up at us. “Please don’t be mad, I’m sorry.” I frowned, moving closer to her. “You have nothing to be sorry for-” Before she could hear my words she stood up, breathing fast and tears never stopping. “God, I’m such a failure!”
She ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs and into one of the rooms. I only knew by the slam of a door.
Margret spoke first. “I told you this was a bad idea. Ambushing someone in this delicate of a situation is never a good idea.” I gave her a look. “And talking to her has worked out so well thus far.”
“She was starting to make small talk.”
“And small talk goes nowhere. It’s a way around her problems.” Margret glared at me. “Oh you’re one to talk around problems. If you weren't such a coward to confront your own children then she would be getting help right now, not having a panic attack because she thinks she’s a failure.”
I saw my mother move, glaring at Margret. “Marge, I understand you two are in a disagreement but I will not tolerate you calling my son names in this house.” Margret sighed. I ignored the stab of pain her comment made, reminding myself bigger things were going on more than my guilt. Margret spoke to my mother. “I’m sorry Rose but right now this is between me and my husband...”
My mother glared. “Then keep your voice down, there are children in the house.” She walked out of the room, going into the living room and turned the volume of their cartoons up to mask the argument.
I swallowed down my temper. I had to if I didn't want to hurt Margret. I spoke, trying to stay quiet. “I don’t want to confront them because I don’t want to scare them. I want them to know they can come to me with anything.”
“So you make me the bad guy?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“It sure sounds like it from over here.” I looked around the room, feeling my anger bubbling up, trying to keep it from exploding. “Why are you attacking me like this? We finally know what’s going on; she would have never told us half of what happened had we not ambushed her. We would have been pushing her away from us.” Margret shook her head, her hand pinching the bridge of her nose. “Because you saw what happened. She knows we heard and we ambushed her at her weakest moment and triggered a panic attack and right now she’s upstairs crying her eyes out thinking she’s a failure.”
I wanted to shake her. I wanted to slap her, punch her. Whatever I could, to get it through her head that a normal talking to Mom or Dad wasn't going to work for her. She’s’ too stubborn and proud for that to work. I balled my fists, walking out of the room, wanting to end this fight but I should have known better. Margret continued. “That’s it, run away like you do all your other problems.” I tensed, turning to her, glaring. She knows she hit a nerve. She mocked shock. “Oh, I’m sorry? Did I hit a nerve?”
I sometimes forget where Morgan got that fire and stubbornness. I turned, growling, facing her. “Fuck you.” She responded with just as much venom. “I would but you can’t even do that right.” I had to keep myself from reaching out and grabbing her. Instead I just got face to face, nearly breathing each other’s air, speaking low. “Oh I can fuck you right. Want me to show you right here?” She glared, not at all scared that I could kill her easily if I had an episode. “I would but you’re too much of pussy for that. I’m sorry, I prefer cock.” I felt my temper reach its peak. I had to get away. I stomped past her, not wanting to upset the kids if they saw how pissed off I was.
Mason
I could hear my parents arguing in the kitchen, trying to keep their voices down. But it was harsh and I knew Mikey could sense it, even with grandma turning up the cartoons and trying to make idle talk. My grandma sighed. “Your parents, God bless them but they couldn't be more different,” I spoke up. “The ambush didn't go well?”
“Yes and no. I got your sister to talk and vent everything this horrible Brent has done to her but when they came in I think it might have triggered a panic attack because she didn't want them to know.”
Mikey walked over from his spot in front of the TV, frowning. “Is this because Morgan has a bad boyfriend?” My grandma smiled sadly. “Yes sweetie, it is. We’re trying to help her.” Mikey frowned. “But she ran upstairs crying. How is that helping?” I stood up. “Well Mikey why don’t you and I go try and cheer her up? Com’on.” He started following me up the stairs.
I wanted him out of there before he started asking too many questions.
We got up the creaky stairs. I heard heavy breathing and crying from the bathroom. It worried me. I knocked on the door. “Hey, it’s just me and Mikey. Can we come in?” It was a few moments. I thought she wasn't going to let us in but soon the door knob turned. I gently pushed it, looking in first before Mikey could. I opened it more once I saw it was safe.
My sister was sitting by the bathtub, knees up to her chin with tears steadily going down her face. Mikey was the first to go over to her. “Mason said that grandma and mom and dad were just trying to help you.” She sniffled. “I know.”
“Then why are you so sad?” She let out a shaky breath, wrapping her arms around Mikey, and bringing him into her lap. “I’m not sad because they’re trying to help, Mikey, it’s...” Her lip trembled. “It’s because they know I’m a weak, pathetic, failure. They never should have had me.”
Mikey frowned, speaking to her. “You’re not weak. You saved me from the bully down the street and when my bike broke you fixed it. You’re really smart and strong.” I smiled. “Yeah Morgan. You shouldn't think about yourself like that.” She gave me a look. “Why are you guys really here? Mom and Dad send you?”
Mikey shook his head. “No. They’re fighting.” Morgan looked away. “Because of me.” I moved closer to her, sitting next to her. “No. Not because of you. Because they’re idiots. I say we let them fight and have it out while we go out and get some ice cream. Remember that place down the street Grandma always took us to when we came up?” She nodded, I smiled. “Get your shoes. We’re getting out of here.”
Mikey smiled. “Ice cream!” I shushed him, putting a finger to my mouth to signal to be quiet. He yell-whispered. “Ice cream!” Morgan laughed weakly, wiping her tears away. She spoke. “Are we sneaking out? Won’t they be mad when they find out?” I shrugged. “They’re off in their own world fighting. I doubt they'll notice.”
I went down the stairs first, seeing if the coast was clear. I didn't see Grandma in the living room and heard talking in the kitchen from my mom and grandma but not dad. He must be out back getting some air. I signaled them to follow, getting my jacket which had my wallet in it with an emergency credit card my dad set up for when I started driving. No one would hire me with football, not with my hectic practice schedule.
I signaled them to wait while I went to the kitchen; I needed to know where Mom and Dad were before we did this. I went into the kitchen. I sighed before making my way around the corner, catching the tail end of grandma’s conversation with my mom.”-Boy was sometimes too nice for his own good. Oh, Mason.”
I smiled weakly, going over to the cabinet, and grabbing a glass. I saw my mom, her eyes red-rimmed and watery. I felt bad. It looked like a nasty fight. They fought so rarely. I started filling my cup with water. “So ambush didn't go well?” My mom sniffled. “Yes and no. We found out everything, I just hate the way we did. She ran away crying.” I sipped my water, nodding at the conversation. “I understand but she is stubborn.” My mom almost glared at me. “You’re taking his side?” I bit my lip before making my way out, slowly. “No. No sides, just stating facts. Where is Dad exactly?” She huffed. “Out back probably stabbing the grass.” I nodded before leaving the kitchen and taking a breather.
I saw Mikey nearly bouncing with excitement with Morgan trying to keep him quiet. I put the glass of water down on a corner table before signaling to follow me out the front door.
Finally, freedom from all the chaos in the house. And time for ice cream.