Mom and Barry’s rendezvous had been the first time they left us kids alone since we began our trek. We’d gotten good at avoiding one another in the Gas-Guzzler. Jenny barely spoke, so she was easy to ignore, and Steph was still pissed at all of us, so she kept her headphones clamped over her ears, humming Heart’s “Alone,” Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody,” “Only in My Dreams,” by Debbie Gibson, and “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” from Dirty Dancing. It was a mix tape Kent had made her before we left that she clutched to like a lifeline.
Once we entered the rest stop, she made a beeline for the pay phone. Jenny went for the candy aisles, but I was more interested in eavesdropping on Steph. I grabbed my basketball and pretended like I was practicing my dribbling skills. The rest stop was pretty empty, so I used my superhuman hearing to listen to God-boy’s side of the conversation, too.
“Stephie, is that you?” he asked, the tears apparent from the treble in his voice.
“Kent, I can’t stand it without you here.”
Jesus, it was only a day and a half. What was wrong with these two nutbars?
“I hate my family, all of them,” Steph boohooed. “My mom and dad are so selfish to do this to us. Like, how did my dad not prepare for a bad stock market, or whatever is happening? And my mother, she sticks beside him no matter what, it’s gross. And with Grandma Bernice, her whole house smells like soup, and she has a ton of old cats that just lick themselves all day. And she’s Orthodox.”
“Stephie, God places challenges in front of us so He can see how we deal. He never gives us tests we can’t overcome.”
She spun a blonde curl of hair around her finger and let it bounce.
“My perm is falling apart.”
“If I could, Stephie, I would collect all your tears and feed them to you so you’d never be thirsty again.”
“Aww, you’re so poetic, Kentie.”
Steph saw me staring and gave me a death glare back. She spun around so the phone was cradled into her chest. Talking softer, I couldn’t understand what they were saying.
“Mallomars,” Jenny said, appearing like an apparition and giving me gooseflesh.
“Holy shit, Jenny, don’t sneak up on people like that.”
Jenny shoved a Mallomar in her mouth, her lips crusted with chocolate.
“Sorry.”
She had dirt all over her face, like she was raised in the woods.
“C’mon,” I said, tucking the basketball under my arm and yanking her back to the RV. Inside, I picked her up and sat her on the kitchen counter, wet a towel, and began to scrub her face.
“I like the smell of dirt,” she said.
“Yeah, I’m not surprised you would. But it’s not good to be dirty. There’s germs in dirt.”
“Actually, dirt is really clean.”
“Just try not to be so weird all the time.”
I finished cleaning her face, and she looked cute again. Her hair was a goddamn mess, but she had these little kid freckles she was embarrassed about all over her cheeks and a button nose. I found a rubber band in a drawer and tied back her hair, so it wasn’t in her eyes.
“There, now you can see.”
“Who said I wanna see?”
The door swung open, and Steph moped inside. She frowned at us and lay on my couch/bed that had reverted back to a couch for the day.
“You guys, love is so complicated,” she said, flinging her arms in the air.
“Steph, no one gives a fuck about your boyfriend,” Jenny snapped, jumping off the table and punching Steph in the arm.
“Oww, Jenny.” Steph glared at me. “She’s strong.”
“I would put money on her in a fight between the two of you,” I said.
“God, where are Mom and Dad?” Steph moaned. “It feels like we’ve been at this rest stop for an eternity. They could’ve at least dropped us off at a mall.”
“But you have no money to spend,” Jenny said.
“Jenny, I don’t even recognize you with a clean face.”
“I don’t recognize you without a giant log up your ass!”
“Ladies, ladies,” I said as they were about to go to blows. “I think we need to set parameters.”
Steph scrunched her face in confusion, so I clarified, “We need to have rules. Steph, none of us can hear about Kent anymore.”
“But…”
“All right, once a day, you get to cry and be a pain in the butt. And Jenny, it’s a tight space, so you got to bathe.”
“Fuck bathing.”
“And that mouth of yours. The art of using a word like ‘fuck’ is to place it at the right time. Sparingly. It can’t be your entire vocabulary.”
“If we’re making promises, Aaron, you can’t walk around like you’re the king of shit,” Steph said.
“What does that even mean?”
“Like you’re better than all of us with your two-dollar words and the fact that you think you’re Mom and Dad’s favorite.”
“I don’t think, I am. Like, Jenny’s not even in contention, and you… Mom and Dad are intellectuals, and I’m the only Gimmelman they’ve got in that department.”
The RV door slammed open, and Mom and Barry stumbled inside, entwined. Giggling like they had a secret between them. Drunk on each other. I wondered if Barry had convinced her of our new thieving ways. His eyebrows slanted in a lecherous way, leaving me to believe that he had. Mom was carrying a big plastic bag stuffed with something. She unraveled from Barry and disappeared into her nook. When she returned, she didn’t have the plastic bag.
“Could you both have taken any longer?” Steph whined. “I’ve been in Delaware long enough for this lifetime.”
Mom fell into Barry’s arms, and he rubbed her tush while kissing her neck.
“Gross, stop it,” Steph said.
“Your father and I are very connected right now.”
“Are you on something?” Steph asked.
Mom took Steph’s face in her hands. “Sweet Steph. We’re on the path to happiness. I hope, truly hope, you’ll sojourn on that path too one day.”
“You smell like pot.”
Mom’s eyes were a guilty red.
“Not around the babies,” she whispered.
“Judith, if you got some, pony up,” said Steph.
“Family,” Barry said, attempting to gather us together. He spread his arms, and we inched closer. They really did smell like they’d gone swimming in a pool of marijuana. “Yes, your mother and I partook in the wacky tobaccy, street name reefer. Since we’re in cramped quarters, there’s no reason to hide it from you all. But we are grownups making a decision to inhale, not for kiddos.”
Jenny gave a piquant belch filled with candy scents.
“We all have our vices,” Mom said, squeezing Jenny tight. “And we were celebrating.”
“Celebrating what?” Steph asked, but I knew. The plastic bag in their nook, holding evidence of how much they were celebrating.
Mom gave moony eyes to Barry, wanting to share her delight with their brood, but he shook his head. We weren’t ready yet. I’d have to find the time to be alone with him so I could pry.
“Celebrating our freedom,” Mom said, and then nodding as if she’d convinced herself. “Were we really free before? Your father was a slave to his job. I was a slave to ennui—Steph, that means being listless.”
Steph scrunched her face for the second time.
“That means your mother had no purpose,” Barry said. “Living in the shadow of her hats, and myself. You three gave her purpose, but is that enough? Beyond the idea of being your mother, what had she produced?”
“I never had a job, never earned my keep,” Mom added.
“That’s all gonna change.” Barry showed us his bright teeth. I’d learn that this was a defense mechanism. A game-show host’s grin. A soul lacking underneath. It said to the world, Trust Me. And the world usually agreed, and followed. We sure did. Like lemmings. Like he was a prophet.
“I have a theory,” he began, still engulfing us in a hug. “Once someone is able to acquire a good deal of money in life, even if they lose it, they possess an uncanny ability to acquire it again, even more. We have the power to tap into that oil well, and despite one pipeline drying up, the Earth will bleed slick black for us, amiright?”
“Are we still going to Florida?” Steph asked.
“Not right away,” Barry said. “We can take our time. A vacation of sorts. Get to know one another.”
His eyes found mine, nudging me for support.
“Yeah, when was the last time we were on vacation?” I said. “Yellowstone?”
“Lucerne last summer,” Mom said.
“But we had separate hotel rooms,” I replied. “And you guys did your own thing. We did, too. I don’t even remember Jenny on that trip.”
Barry winked. “Exactly, I want to know my kiddos, beyond the surface. Jenny, when was the last time we had a real heart-to-heart?”
Jenny burped again, this time bringing up the Slim Jim binge from yesterday.
“And Stephie…” He patted her shoulder. “I want to be your rock. You can cry all your sorrows right here about Brent.”
“Kent.”
“Who?”
“My boyfriend,” she screeched. “Kent.”
“Precisely, I didn’t even know the lad’s name.”
He unraveled his arms from around us all and put his hand in the center of the circle.
“Can I get a…Whoa Gimmelmans?”
We all stared back blankly.
“C’mon, Whoaaaaaa Gimmelmans.”
Mom gave a smirk and put her hand over Barry’s. I placed mine over hers, Steph rolled her eyes but eventually did the same while Jenny stood on tiptoes to place her little grubby hand on the top. Even Johnny Cash scurried over—we’d been making him sleep outside of the RV, so as not to keep us up at night—and jumped up on hind legs to join.
“Whoaaaaaaaa Gimmelmans,” we all sang, some more half-hearted than others, but all of us contributing, Johnny Cash as well with his howls.
“Steph, gimme one of your mix tapes, and I’ll play it,” Barry said.
“Really?”
She took her Walkman out of her jacket pocket and popped out the cassette tape.
Of course, of all songs, “I Want Your Sex” by George Michael came on. I had to give God-boy more credit than I initially thought for his not-so-subliminal master plan. Mom looked like she wanted to turn it off, but Jenny started dancing with Johnny Cash. Barry was doing his Batman-eyes thing, and I was tapping my foot, so she let it slide. Steph was also laughing like a hyena, which none of us had heard since we revved up the Gas-Guzzler in New Jersey, so we turned up the beat and gave Smyrna, Delaware, a rightful show.
“My wonderful brood,” Barry said, clapping to the beat. “I love you all so.”