Dakota
As soon as I get in my car, I pull up my friend Libby’s name in the contacts on my phone and hit call before backing out of the driveway. I don’t really have anywhere to go. I just can’t be here, and I need to talk to my best friend.
Libby answers after the fourth ring. “Hey girl! Sorry, I just walked in the house and couldn’t find my phone in this mess of a purse I have.”
As soon as I hear her voice the dam breaks free, and tears start rolling down my face. The cry I’ve been holding in since walking into my mom’s room erupts from my throat in a loud sob.
“Dakota?” Libby’s voice is serious now. “Is everything okay? But wait, are you driving right now?”
I nod my head and then realize she can’t see me, so I squeak out a meek, “Yes.”
“I need you to pull over,” my bestie commands. “Wherever you’re at, just pull over and put your car in park.”
I’m still in my neighborhood, so it’s easy enough to steer my vehicle to the curb. Luckily, there aren’t any houses directly in front of the space, so I have some semblance of privacy while I break down and completely lose it.
“Are you parked?” Libby asks in a concerned voice.
“Yeah,” I manage to sniffle. My friend sighs.
“Is it Eddie? I swear that asshole doesn’t deserve you.”
“It is, but it isn’t too. It’s my mom,” I stammer.
Libby lets out another loud sigh because she’s familiar with Denise and her shenanigans.
“Your mom? I swear they shouldn’t let some people be parents because they’re just not fit for the job. There should be a test or something. You know she’s got body issues and she projects them on you. It’s insane! You’re gorgeous, and you don’t need to starve yourself to fit her distorted view of what a woman should look like.”
“No,” I sniffle again, tears pooling once more. “It’s not that. I mean, she did call me fat, but I’m used to that. This, oh god, Libby, this is far worse. I knew Denise was never a model parent, but this goes beyond the pale. I never imagined she could do something this cruel.”
My friend tries to calm me down.
“Dakota, take a minute, sweetie. You sound like you’re about to hyperventilate. I want you to just relax and get some oxygen, and then you can tell me what that witch did.”
I drop my head back against the headrest of my seat and try to do what Libby said, inhaling to fill my lungs. The extra oxygen does help, and I feel somewhat calmer, although not a lot.
“Do you feel a little better now?” Libby asks in a supportive voice.
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” she says. “Now, tell me what Denise did. I know it’s something horrific.”
“It is, but it wasn’t just her.”
Libby groans again. “Ugh. She’s pulling others into her crap now. Let me guess: she has a friend who’s another desperate, middle aged single woman who looks for happiness by bringing others down. Were they doing jazzercise in crazy-colored 80’s outfits when you burst in on them? And then did they try to get you to join them by shaming you?”
I shake my head although a smile comes on my face. Libby has never shied away from calling my mother out for exactly what she is, and it’s one of the reasons I love her. But then reality pops back up in my mind, and my smile falls.
“No. Nothing like that, although I wish it were that.”
“Then who’s her new accomplice?”
“Eddie,” I manage to choke out.
The line is silent for a moment and I know Libby is trying to imagine all the ways my mom would team up with Eddie to hurt me, but I’m certain she won’t get this one because the betrayal is just so unbelievable.
“I’m at a loss,” she finally says. “Tell me.”
Taking a deep breath, I steel myself to say the words out loud for the first time. “When I got home from work, I thought I heard raccoons in the attic again, so I went upstairs to look.”
“I’m guessing there weren’t any raccoons,” my buddy drawls.
“You’re right. It wasn’t animals because when I went upstairs, there were pounding sounds coming from my mom’s room, and when I peeked inside, they were doing it. I walked in on her having sex, Libs. With my boyfriend. With Eddie.”
On the other end of the line there’s a jangling sound, like Libby is digging keys out of her purse. “I’m on my way,” she says. “What the fuck? This is so fucking awful.”
“You don’t have to come,” I say in a small voice.
“Oh, I’m coming, and I’m going to kill them. Yup. That’s it. They’re dead.”
I smile. Libby is the real deal when it comes to best friends. She’s always had my back, no matter who the bully was. Unfortunately for me, that bully has always been my mother, and over the years, Libby has taken every chance she can to take a jab at my mother. My friend does things like calling Denise a toothpick, or suggesting she weigh her purse down with bricks so the wind won’t blow her away, and even hinting that my mom have me call her “Denise.” Of course, my mother loved the idea because she thought it made her sound young and cool, but Libby was just pointing out that she didn’t deserve the title of “Mom.”
“No Libs, stop,” I sigh. “I’m not even home right now.” But my friend won’t be deterred.
“That’s alright. I can take them on my own. In fact, it’s probably better this way so you don’t get blood all over yourself.”
I giggle despite the morbid image.
“No,” I say, serious this time. “You don’t have to come over, and you can’t kill them.”
“You’re right,” my friend says seriously. “They deserve worse. I mean, really? Your boyfriend boinking your mom? They should be tortured and then killed.”
I let out a small laugh that sounds more like a cry.
“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, I know.”
“Alright. I won’t kill them then. But if you change your mind, I’m there. I’m sharpening my knives as we speak, not to mention cleaning out my pistol.”
“Thanks, Libby,” I giggle despite myself. “I know you are.”
“Yep, I’m armed and dangerous,” she announces. But then her voice becomes sympathetic. “Do you want to come over here, Dak? I picked up a gallon of rocky road on the way home. It’s the perfect cure for slutty moms and shitty boyfriends, I promise.”
Ice cream does sound good, but even that’s not going to dissolve my misery.
“No,” I sigh, feeling tears come to my eyes again. “But thanks. I think I just need to take some time alone to calm down. After all, the magnitude of what’s happened has been mind-boggling.”
I can almost hear my bestie nodding.
“Okay, but I’ll be home if you decide you want company.”
“Thanks, Libs,” I say before hanging up. Then I start my car again and ease it away from the curb. Where will I go? I have no idea, but maybe a long drive will help me come to grips with the disaster that is my life.
A few hours pass and I’m still driving around with no real purpose. I still can’t get past what happened. If Eddie had cheated on me with another girl from his school, or some random girl he picked up at the mall, it would have hurt, but at least that’s normal. And if I’m being truly honest with myself, it wouldn’t have been completely shocking. Eddie has always had a high opinion of himself, and he loves anyone willing to stroke that ego of his. And with his looks, his ego gets a lot of attention, unfortunately.
But I never imagined he’d stoop to sleeping with my mom. It’s like a bad plot line from a soap opera, or even a porn movie. Even worse is that my mom would sleep with him. I’m her daughter for Christ’s sake! Aren’t mothers supposed to put their children first?
I shake my head at myself because that’s such a stupid notion. Denise hasn’t put me first since the day my dad left. She doesn’t say it, but I’ve always felt like she blames me for the fact that Martin took off when I was a baby. Maybe that’s why I never fought her on the diets she forces on me. Maybe that’s why I never complain when she never shows for school plays, or when I was the only child with a winter jacket that was too small. It was as if I was trying to make things up to her somehow.
Well, Denise can forget all of that now. It’s her turn to find a way to apologize, although I know she won’t. Hell, Eddie’s probably banging her again now, and she’s probably enjoying it. Somehow, I know the evil duo has found some way to twist the facts so that everything lands on my plate. That’s just how they are.
But maybe I can get back at them somehow. It would be nice to wreak revenge for once. Usually, I’m pretty tame. I cover my eyes during scary movies, and I don’t really talk back to the mean girls. But what’s happened goes beyond the pale, and I really want lightning to strike my mom and Eddie on the head. The question is how?
I pull my car into the driveway and park, contemplating my options. Should I go back in? Do I even have the guts? To be honest, my stomach is churning, and I feel a bit nauseous from the events of tonight. But when I look up, I realize I’m at Eddie’s house, and not mine. It’s an easy mistake to make because we actually live in the same neighborhood, and I used to come to his place a lot.
I start to put my car in reverse, but then a thought stops me. Eddie isn’t my boyfriend anymore. That means I’m free to sleep with anyone I want, and isn’t Eddie’s dad Jack single? A shiver runs down my spine. Oh my god, this is so wrong because I can’t sleep with my boyfriend’s dad. Or can I? That would be a strong dose of revenge certainly.
I contemplate the image of Jack Straithmore in my head. Whereas Eddie is a good-looking teenage boy, his dad, Jack, is more like pure sex. Jack might be 45 years old, but the extra years have only done wonders for him. He has electric blue eyes, black hair, and bronzed skin that stretches across a muscular, ripped body. At least, that’s what I imagine. I’ve only met him a couple times, but it’s clear he keeps in shape. I’ve always found him attractive, but he’s my boyfriend’s dad, so I never thought much about it.
But now, the circumstances are different, to put things mildly, and Jack Straithmore is H-O-T. And if Eddie can sleep with my mom, then the perfect revenge would be for me to sleep with his dad. Right?
I shake my head at myself. “You’re losing it, Dakota,” I mumble. “Seriously, this is getting twisted.” Then I put my car in reverse, but for some reason I can’t seem to move my foot to the gas pedal to drive away. Instead, I adjust the gear shift to drive and pull my car further up the driveway and around the large mansion before parking around a hedge so that my vehicle is out of sight.
Chills run down my spine, as well as a sense of anticipation. Am I really doing this? Am I really going to attempt a form of naughty revenge? It seems so because after turning off the ignition, I pull down the car visor and do my best to fix my hair in the mirror. My locks are thick and curly, so there is only so much I can do with them after a long day working the steamer as a barista, but it’s not so bad. I’m wearing jeans and a sweater that are relatively form-fitting, showing off my curves. Quickly, I swipe on some lipstick and pinch my cheeks for color. This is going to have to do.
Without giving myself a chance to second guess, I get out of my car and head straight for the front door before ringing the doorbell. Heavy footsteps approach, and my heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest, but it’s too late to stop. My plan’s been set in motion, and now there’s nothing to do but to see where it takes me.