On the Eve of Dusk

Warm Rain

One thought reigned over the rest while I sat in the front passenger seat of the beat up silver minivan; While I flipped through a romance novel I'd already read a million times. I hated my mother. I hated her with a boiling, burning passion. 

 It was March, temperate in St. Louis, where all of my friends were. But not here. Not in east-Jesus nowhere Forks Washington. There was no beaming sunshine to ward off too-cold early spring air. There was no warm rain. Only frigid, cloudy personal hell of mine. I knew better than to complain. Mom hated it when we complained. Music blared from my headphones as I stared aimlessly out of the window, abandoning my novel. 

 Green. All there was, was green and brown and the occasional grey. Dahlia kicked my foot to get my attention and I huffed, but obliged. I pulled out one earbud and raised an expectant eyebrow at her. She pointed at the sign ahead. 

Forks, Washington. Population, 3558. 

My heart sank a little. St.louis was EIGHTY-THREE times larger in population.

"All the people here are probably inbred!" Dahlia joked, I offered her a half-hearted smile.

"We'll just have to wait till college to date." I sighed, and attempted to stretch my legs. Simply being in the cramped Minivan was difficult enough, being inside of it for thirty hours was grueling.

"You girls would be surprised. Charlie is really hot," my mother interrupted our roasting session, "I'm sure some of these small-town boys are solid eight- out-of -tens. " She grinned, I looked at the speedometer. The closer we got, the faster she drove.

 I understood why. 

Mom's new husband was the chief of Police, and she was drunk on the power she wielded. Dahlia, Alvin, and I hadn't met Charlie yet. Mom had met him online, and we talked to him a few times over Skype, but Mom had gone out to meet him alone over the spring break while we had been at our grandparent's in Rolla. They were only supposed to hang out and get to know each other better, but mom was never very responsible when it came to her boyfriends. When she came back and announced she was married, Dahlia and I gritted our teeth and bore it, as we always had. Alvin was too young to understand, and he wasn't even in school yet, being only three years old, so he didn't mind.

"Mommy, when we be there?" Alvin asked, swiping away at his tablet. I was thinking the same thing, but I chose to avoid talking to the traitorous bitch.

I could have, or more should have, used my "special talent." on her. I could have tried. Tried to convince her to stay, in Missouri. Make her believe it was her idea to stay. I could have.

But it was best to not. Mom was happy, and she wasn't with Him anymore, so I let it go.

"We're here!" Mother exclaimed, pulling into the brick driveway of a small white colonial. She parked next to a police cruiser and I thought well, this can only get better from here, I'm sure.

Out came a man, tall and lean with a bit of a beer gut. Thick, dark, curly brown hair piled atop his head, cut short. A mustache hung over his lip. I thought, for a moment, he kind of resembled Randy Marsh from SouthPark.

"Mary!" He shouted, opening the car door for my mom. His voice was deep and velvety. I noticed, at that moment, that there was a third car in the large driveway. A rusty, old pickup that didn't look like it'd start.

 My door swung open as a boy stood in its space. I gaped. He was gorgeous. Over six feet tall, with flawless chestnut skin and hair that he wore loose, hanging just past his wide shoulders. By all accounts how I had imagined Apollo, the god of the sun would look. He offered his hand and I accepted, my legs were still wobbly from the drive, at least that's what I told myself.