“Speaking of husbands,” Polly said, “he’s pulling up now, so I better go greet him.”
“Oh, give him a kiss for me,” Etta said. Polly hung up while she was still giggling.
She put the phone down on the table and stared at the ziti, the steam curling up over the top of it, doing a little dance. She’d lied to Etta. Calvin wasn’t home. She had no idea when he would be home or where he was. She knew only that he was out somewhere, likely spending the money he’d stolen from her and pretending to be the catch everyone thought he was.
“Oh, Barney,” she said to her sleeping dog. “What am I going to do?” But Barney didn’t hear her, or if he did, he didn’t bother rousing. She shrugged, then reached for another cigarette. It was as good a day as any to break the rules.
Violet
She woke up disoriented, uncertain where she was or what time it was. She thrashed around until she found her cell phone and looked at the time, anxious to orient herself to something measurable. It was light outside, so it was daytime. But what day? Her phone told her it was 4:37 p.m. and it was still Thursday. She’d slept for only about forty-five minutes. It felt like she’d been asleep for days.
She looked around at the guest room with its plethora of throw pillows she’d tossed on the floor, its green-and-yellow color scheme, its dresser featuring a large arrangement of fake flowers that had never changed and were covered in dust. Slowly, everything came into focus and she remembered. Her mother was in jail. And she was at the Stricklands’, even though she and Nicole hadn’t been on the greatest of terms lately.
She’d kept that detail from her mother, certain it would blow over and her mother didn’t need to know. Now Violet rolled over and punched the pillow, regretting that decision. If she’d told her mom, maybe she would’ve arranged for her to go somewhere else. Maybe, Violet thought, she should find out when her dad would return home from his trip. Though she didn’t exactly love his new wife, he was family. And the Stricklands weren’t.
She got up and went to the door, intending to open it and find Nicole, or her mom, or someone who might know something she didn’t, new news that had happened as she slept. But voices on the other side stopped her in her tracks. Angry voices. She lowered her hand and stood frozen as she tried to figure out who was speaking and where they were standing on the other side of the closed door. After a few minutes of listening, she decided that it was Nicole and her mom, arguing about something. But she couldn’t understand why they kept mentioning Casey’s name, seeing as how Casey was away at college.
Casey Strickland was a triple threat. As in she was gorgeous, popular, and smart. Nicole had long ago given up trying to measure up to her; Violet and Nicole had had many conversations about that. Though Violet didn’t envy Nicole’s struggles with her sister, she did envy her having a sister at all. Standing there alone in that room, she longed for someone to go through this with, someone to talk to, to be by her side when her mother could not be.
Instead she just listened to Nicole and her mom arguing.
“They can’t both be here. It’s too much. I’ve got my first term paper due in Shupe’s class, not to mention rehearsals starting,” Nicole grumbled. “I don’t need this right now.”
“I know, honey,” Nicole’s mom said soothingly, “but how was I supposed to know that Casey would just appear on the doorstep twenty minutes after Violet arrived?”
“You didn’t have to let Violet come here. You didn’t have to say yes and be so helpful like you always are. You know things have been . . . weird . . . with us lately. Just that was going to be awkward even if Casey wasn’t here, too. You could’ve asked me first,” Nicole whined.
“I couldn’t very well say no. It’s a delicate situation.” Bess defended herself.
“It’s not delicate, Mom. Her mom’s a whore. And she’s in jail because of it.”
“Nicole!” Bess Strickland exclaimed, and then they were both silent, probably scared that the outburst had woken Violet. Too late, Violet thought. She was shaking, her heart beating hard in her chest as the word whore resounded in her head. She took a step backward, intending to sit on the bed and calm down. The floor creaked underneath her feet and she froze again, her heart hammering harder as she waited for Bess to throw open the guest room door or for them to continue the conversation. But the hall was silent, and she was left to decide how to go out there and act normal when life was anything but.
Casey
From her bedroom she could hear her mother and sister talking in what they probably considered hushed tones, the tension in their voices unmistakable as they discussed what to do about her and Violet Ramsey both unexpectedly dropping in on their little, orderly life. From down the hall and behind her closed door, she could hear only about every third word, but she could tell enough to know that her presence was neither well timed, nor welcome.
It was amazing to her how her family had so seamlessly filled the gap she’d left behind when she’d gone to college. She recalled her mother’s tears the day they said goodbye, her sister’s earnest insistence that it just wouldn’t be
