Author's Note:
Kind of a short chapter… but it's very revealing. The plot should really start to get rolling now! :D
"Come on, Sodapop!" I laughed. "Your break is almost over, and I have to be at the Nighty Double soon for my shift!"
He winked at me and turned to the fruit aisle. "I love fruits. Vegetables tastes nasty, man, I like fruit. Fruit's sweet." He popped a grape in his mouth mischeviously. "Whaddya think Buck-o likes?"
"He eats anything we give him," I admitted. "Mercedes does most of the cooking anyway. But she's off to god-knows-where with Ash's gang friends."
Soda poked me. "I can tell. Gettin' a liddle chubby there?" he teased, putting his hand on my stomach. I smacked his hand away and hid a laugh.
"I'm still in better shape than you. I walk places, Fancy Mechanic man," I smiled and turned to the strawberries and decided if the price was worth it.
"Hey, Ash's the one who fixed the car. I swear, for a broad who can't drive an inch without an accident, that woman is better'n Steve and me at fixin' cars." He shook his head. "And Two-Bit's been hangin' out quite a bit with 'the gang', I bet that's why Mercedes is there. She'n Ash got their hands full with him," he shook his head and ate another grape.
"Soda, you're gonna get in trouble," I hissed, passing by the grapes and grabbing some apples. I'd make Mercedes teach me to make pie or something. Or probably, Buck and I'd eat them raw.
"I can always weasel my way out," he grinned. "I can run away to the getaway car!"
"Speaking of car, I left my money in there. Would you please grab it before you get us kicked out of here?" I asked wryly. He was incorrigible.
He ran out to the car, doing cartwheels in the middle of the vegetable aisle. I sighed, unable to hide my smile. Taking Sodapop Curtis shopping was like bringing a three year old. He sat on the cart, he zoomed past elderly citizens with it. Once he was bored and had an entertaining idea in his head, god forbid anyone get in his way. He had no regard for rules: but it didn't matter, he was never in trouble. His charisma was endless.
I was deciding if I should get oranges, when my mother stood next to me.
"Hello, Marigold," she said quietly. "Where have you been? Your father is close to calling the police."
"If he called the police, they'd find out his dirty little secret. I'm staying with friends," I answered stoutly. For lack of a better word: Shit.
"Sweetie, you know he doesn't mean it. He promised he wouldn't do it again," she pleaded, holding a pack of cigarettes and his favorite dinner in her hands.
"Mom, he's said that before," unwillingly, I felt tears in my eyes blur my vision. I loved my mom: she was weak, she was cowardly, but she was my mother. "He's not even my dad… remember?"
"But he raised you anyway!" she begged. "Please, honey…"
"How did that even happen anyway? You're too scared to even change his channel!" I felt desperate for answers.
"Todd was a friend. He was there for me when your father and I'd fight, and he protected me from your father's rages: we were all friends for years. I loved them both. But your father asked me to marry him before Todd did—"
"You mean, Richard asked you to marry him before my father did." I corrected her. It felt rude, disrespectful, but I was fighting back anger.
"Yes," she sighed. "One night, your father and I argued terribly, and Todd comforted me."
"In the oldest sense of the word," I retorted, getting upset, praying Soda wouldn't come back too early.
She looked at me reproachfully, and I almost bowed my head in deference. She was my mother, after all.
"Nine months later, you were here. And Richard killed Todd. He beat him up so badly in Texas that Todd died. We haven't spoken of it since." This was such a strange conversation to have in a grocery store.
"So Richard's always had a violent temper," I stated bitterly, feeling weird to address him as that after knowing him as 'father' my entire life.
"Yes… but at first, he was gallant. I guess he just became bitter and drunk… I still see it, sometimes, Marigold, that man I fell in love with. Don't judge him too much. He's had a lot of disappointments."
"And that's an excuse?" I curtly replied. She was weak, and… female. That's exactly the problem, I figured. She was the typical fifties housewife: she didn't change with the generations. She was stuck in the kitchen, in the garden, in the grocery store. That was her world, and she'd never experience anything else.
Maybe if I got married, I couldn't either. Because I was a woman. Thinking about it made me furious. Women could vote, and I bet she didn't know what democracy was.
"He takes things, hard, Marigold, sweetie. I still love him."
"I'm surprised he hasn't beat it out of you yet." Sodapop came up and put a protective arm around me. His voice was cool, warning. I felt my resolve stiffen immediately.
She raised an eyebrow. "Love doesn't have to change just because people do." she looked at me imploringly. "Please, sweetie… I'm not asking you to come home… just… forgive us. Someday you'll understand."
Soda looked at her angrily as she left quietly. "I'm sorry I was so rude to her, Goldie. I just got so mad. Don't let your resolve weaken. You gotta stay with Buck, aint nothin' she can do to change that." he then looked apologetic. "I should apologize though." He looked after her, but couldn't see her, and shook his head. "I don't mean to be a jerk, I just feel protective around you," he explained with a grin. "Steve wants to kill you though."
I looked at him, wide-eyed. "Why!"
"'Cause he thinks you're secretly the evil mastermind behind Mercedes drivin' him nuts."
"What?" I hissed, walking to the line, Soda's DX shirt dirty and stained. "That's all Mercedes. Steve scares me too much for me to mess with him."
"Steve wouldn't hurt ya. The only girl he'd ever hurt is Mercedes. And hell, he wouldn't even hurt her. Her death would be fast an' painless," he laughed.
I looked at him. "Those two are gonna kill someone in their crossfire." I shook my head. "I only hope it isn't me."