Page 114 of Sharkbait
I think I’m going to be sick.
Ralph pulls me into the booth. I flop next to him like an out-of-water fish.
“So. Forgive me for stating the obvious, but…” She does a drumroll on the tabletop. “Your father and I are back together!”
“What?” Ralph asks. “How? Why?”
Mom beams and cuddles closer to Dad. “I guess sometimes things just happen for a reason!”
Ralph and I just stare at her.
“Okay, no, you’re right. You two deserve an explanation. Before your birthday, Ralphie, I called your father to give him a piece of my mind—”
“Like she does every few months.” Dad chuckles.
Mom swats him in the arm. “Well, can you blame me? You’ve been a real stinker for a very long time, mister!”
She giggles.
What in the hell is happening here?
“That’s a fair assessment,” Dad says and takes a swig of his beer.
“And I let it slip that I was in town visiting you kids for Ralphie’s birthday. Little did I know, your father was back in the States working on a new truck route and wasn’t too far away. So do you know what he did? He drove all day and all night to be with us at the party! To be with me.”
Her face goes all shmoopy as she gazes into his eyes.
They kiss.
I resist the urge to throw up.
“You were the one who invited him?” Ralph asks.
Dad laughs. “I wouldn’t say she invited me, but she did let the cat out of the bag. And boy was she mad when she first saw me there!”
“Oh, I was! But…” Her voice slows, and she curls a lock of hair at the nape of his neck around her finger. “One thing led to another, and now we’ve got a little local apartment together. He’s still on the road a lot with work, but it’s nice to have a home base little love nest.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
It’s the first thing I’ve managed to say since we walked in.
“Louise! Language,” Mom scolds and looks around at the other patrons in apology.
“No.” I hold up a hand. “Don’t ‘language’ me. You used more language when I was growing up than anyone. I am a grown woman now, and I will use all the language I like!”
Ralph places what he must think is a comforting hand on my knee. I immediately swipe it off. “Lou—”
“Ralph, this shit is insane! What? We’re supposed to be happy about this?”
“Of course!” Mom says and places a hand over her heart. “We’re putting our family back together. How can that not be a good thing?”
“Back together implies that we were ever a family in the first place. We were never a happy family. Never!”
“Sweetheart, that is not true. We had our moments.” Mom’s voice warbles. Her eyes well with tears. When Dad takes his hand in hers, I want to scream.
“We”—I point at Ralph and me—“had our moments. Lots of moments. A lifetime of moments. We were all each other had. Because you”—my eyes dart back and forth between our parents—“were so involved in your own dramas and dumpster fire of a relationship, you couldn’t even concern yourselves with what your kids were going through.”
“What were you going through, Wheezy?” Dad asks like he’s suddenly ready to have a father-daughter fireside chat.
