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I took my daughter outside of the house, and we sat on the stoop.
"Hey daddy?" She was looking at me very intently, like she had something serious that she wanted to discuss.
"Yeah babe?"
"Why does Mom hate her dad so much? I mean, I know he was a really bad dad to her and all, but I don't understand how she could be mad that she's upset. Aren't most people sad when someone that they don't know that well dies?" I turned so that we were facing each other.
"Well, that's a feeling that I hope you never have to deal with, because I hope that I can be a good father to you. She doesn't want to care because she doesn't think that he deserves it because he wasn't much more than an acquaintance to her, all he did was give her money, because he thought that would make it okay not to love her."
"What's an acquaintance?"
"It's somebody that you don't know very well, but you know who they are and stuff." She nodded.
"If I was an accident like Mommy was, how come you love me and her parents didn't love her?" I sighed.
"Because, Elsie—look at me, really listen, and don't ever forget this—because your Mom and I love each other very much, and if your Mom had told me about you, I would have been right there for you guys. We don't think of you as a mistake, but more as a blessing. Do you know why?" She shook her head. "You are a blessing because you brought your Mom and I back together, because we were to dumb to realize we were still in love by ourselves. You're a little angel." She thought for a moment.
"Does that mean that Mom's parents didn't love each other?" Tough question.
"Well…they loved each other the best that they could. But all they wanted out of life was money and for people to like them. I don't think they really knew what love was."
"I still don't get why Mom didn't tell you that she was pregnant with me. That's kind of stupid of her." I looked at her sort of severely.
"Hey—don't say things like that about your mother, especially not when she's around. People make mistakes, and I know you understand that, but your mother is very emotional and a lot of the time she thinks she is stupid. I wish that she had told me, too, but I didn't really give her a chance to. We had a lack of communication, and it was sad, but it happens a lot to people because people can read each other's minds. She was going through I really tough time, and she was afraid I would leave if she told me, and I was afraid that she was going to kill herself and leave me at the same time my father caught my mother cheating on him. We both had too much to deal with, so we pushed each other away. Does that make sense?" She nodded. I was right in knowing that Maureen gives her too little credit in terms of what she is mature enough to understand and how developed she is. But it has been a rough adjustment for the two of them, and I do think things have improved the tiniest since we first started seeing her.
"Hey Dad?"
"What's up sweetie?" She moved towards me and flung her arms around me, clinging to me somewhat desperately.
"I love you, and I would be very sad if you died." My heart hurt, knowing that I would likely die before she was Ben's age. I hoped to God that I would make it until she was old enough to understand, but I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind.
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After a few hours, my mother still hadn't come home, and though I hated her guts, I was starting to get worried about her—she was still my mother, after all. Elsie was sleeping on Benji's bed. Even though she couldn't completely understand the complexities of the situation, I knew that it had been stressful for her. Roger and Ben were talking, and I was struggling to pay attention to what they were saying, but I was preoccupied by thinking about my mother. Had been so terrible to her, but it wasn't like she ever really cared about me, either. Benji was her perfect baby, the treasure child—the one that they had actually intended to have. I was just an accident. But just because she loved Ben more didn't mean that she treated him any differently on a normal basis—I don't think she ever really knew how to.
I don't know how she ended up so differently from my grandmother. I guess she probably rebelled like I did. She wanted the prim and proper, she wanted high society. I rebelled against that…although I still believe that what I am standing up for is right. I think the difference between myself and my mother is that I actually rebelled believing I was doing the right thing. She is more superficial than I am…which is evident from the things that she wanted.
"Hey, Benj?" He turned from Roger, who was in the middle of saying something, and looked at me inquisitively, "Sorry to interrupt, but do you have any idea where mom might be?" He now looked confused.
"No, why?" I shrugged.
"No reason. I'm just a little concerned on a human level because I have seen what grief can do to people, and I'd rather not have her kill herself…or do something else stupid. But more than that, I just wanna talk to her so we can get the fuck out of here."
"Well, she has a cell phone. You can try calling it, but I don't know if she'll pick up…" I nodded.
"Do you have the number?" He went over to the Rolodex and took out the card with the number on it. Only my mother would keep a Rolodex card of her own phone number. I rolled my eyes and picked up the phone. I dialed the number and slipped the card into my pocket. The phone rang four times before she answered. She sounded drunk as hell, and completely out of it.
"Hello?" She mumbled.
"Mom?"
"Maureen?" She seemed completely surprised that it was me. "How did you get this number?" She sounded vaguely angry, but mostly confused.
"Mom, I'm at the house. Ben called me and told me what happened." I could almost see her snarl.
"Of course he did, of course…the little bastard." My jaw dropped.
"You weren't even going to tell me that my father DIED?" She laughed too loudly, obnoxiously.
"You didn't deserve to know…you…whore." I locked my jaw and forced myself to stay calm.
"Mom, where are you?"
"Jesus Christ, you'd think you'd never lived here. There's only one fucking bar in town. You figure it out, if you're such a smart little bitch...or better yet, whatchoo want, huh? I know you don't really give a flying fuck about dear old mom." I cleared my throat nervously.
"I um…" my voice came out softly, I sounded like a small, scared child. "I was wondering if…uh…Ben could…comelivewithme."
"What was that?"
"I WAS WONDERING IF YOUR SON COULD LIVE WITH ME." I was irritated now, and I knew I was being juvenile, but who isn't when addressing a parent?
"What, in your whorehouse?" She apparently found herself completely hilarious.
"I am not a whore, mother. I am a waitress or a performer. Roger and I have a steady income, and our daughter lives with us, too. We are going to move soon into a better neighborhood when we can afford it. I love my family, and I make sure I take care of them, unlike you. You leave your fucking son alone after his father is murdered and don't even tell your daughter he is dead? What the fuck is wrong with you? And why can't you show affection to your children? Why is that so hard?" She paused for a moment, and it sounded like she fell off her barstool.
"Fine. Take him. I'll sign over my damn rights to you. He's worthless, anyway."
"What right do you have to call anyone worthless? What do you have? A house? Whoop-dee-frickin'-do. We're leaving now. I'll leave my lawyer's card in your Rolodex." With that, I hung up the phone forcefully. Roger cam up behind me and rubbed my shoulders.
"You okay, Mo?" I whipped around furiously.
"What fucking right does she have? Calling me a frickin' whore! What does she know about me? She doesn't give a damn about me." He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, rubbing my back.
"Shh…it's okay. It's all right. Nothing she can do matters. You're okay." I took a deep breath and shook it off. I went over to Ben and smiled, hugging him.
"Okay little bro, pack your stuff up and let's get out of this hellhole." He hugged me, holding me a little tighter, not wanting to let go, and I could feel how much he needed me. "Hey…" I said, pushing him back a bit so I could look him in the eye, "It's all gonna be better now, okay?" I pulled him in for another quick hug, then tousled his hair, "Now, get a move on so we can leave, okay?" I winked at him, and he went on his way.
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I went up to my room slowly. I was honestly a little intimidated by the prospect of living with my sister, since I have always idolized her as much as I do. I guess I feel like maybe I'm not good enough, maybe she will kick me to the curb or something. I know that this is irrational; I know that she loves me, but I felt so abandoned when she left me the first time. I know logically that had nothing to do with me, but I can't help but feel in my heart that I must have done something wrong.
Maureen was always much more of a mother to me than my mom ever was, and more of a mother than a big sister, although I supposed that if the job's done well, there isn't much difference. She saw that Mom wasn't providing adequate care, and most of the time did a good job…until all the craziness started.
I opened the door gently, finding Elsie still asleep on my bed, just as I had expected. I walked over silently and tickled her gently, which woke her up. She has the most adorable giggle in the world.
"Uncle Benji! STOP IT!" Of course I didn't, but instead I scooped her up in my arms and spun her around in a circle before putting her down. She was laughing so hard that he face was turning red and she fell down. I pulled her up from the ground.
"Hey Els, wanna help me pack?" She nodded enthusiastically.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm coming to live with you guys—what do you think about that?" Her eyes lit up.
"That's gonna be so much fun! I missed you." I squatted down to her level.
"I missed you too, Munchkin."
"Stop calling me that!" I tickled her again.
"Oh yeah? Why not?"
"Okay, fine! Just stop tickling me!" We got to work, and threw my clothes and a few other things into my big duffel bag—pillows, sheets, towels, money, notebook, walkman and the few tapes I had. And I grabbed my backpack, which had some books, another notebook, and some pens. We downstairs, and the four of us went out to the car. I sat next to Els in the back seat, who fell asleep on my lap after about five minutes, and we journeyed towards to New York City, the center of the Universe, my anxiety and excitement growing. Maureen turned and reached an arm out, and squeezed my knee.
"I'm so glad you're with us, bro. I really missed you. I promise things will get better soon." I smiled back at her.
"Thanks for letting me come with you, Momo. I missed you, too. Thanks for everything you've done—I love you."
"Aww…I love you too." Then she turned around again. I pulled out my sketchpad and started to create.