Blunder

**I've added a few of the character's photos so be sure to check them out :)

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The flat screens are the first to go, followed by the computer and Gram’s old coin collection as well as other number of other miscellaneous items. I lurk off to the side, and attempt to separate myself from the mayhem by lying sprawled out in a secluded section of lawn under an old fir tree. The rough bark bites into my exposed shoulders, while a light breeze stirs the loosely furled rose petals, filling the air with their potent sent.

However, the rose’s sweet aroma isn’t enough to mask the stale stench of tobacco on my mother’s breath. She lies adjacent to me, propped up on her elbows, her face bathed in shadow, clutching a can of Budweiser. Icy beads of condensation trickle down the face of the can and I watch her lick around its rim in an attempt to capture the small rivulets before they splash onto her hand.

We watch the men haphazardly load our belongings into a rusty trailer. They aren’t taking the time to properly secure the valuables and their gross negligence rouses a slight twinge of irritation in me. Discarded items dot the lawn, sprawled this way and that, their metallic surfaces glinting in the midsummer sun.

A short, squirrely Latino with a large mustache and over powering cologne shuffles over to us clutching a clipboard. Bellow the embroidered Coldwell Bank logo on his polo he wears a laminated name card that reads ‘Hello my Name is Earl’. He extends his arms out to my mother, offering her the clipboard.

“My men have finished loading the said assets into our vehicle. A bank representative will be by within the next hour or so to finalize the foreclosure.”

 He indicates to the dotted line at the bottom of the document secured to the clipboard.

 “ Sign here and…here.” My mother furrows her brow as she attempts to print her signature. She manages to scrawl out an illegible squiggle and hands the board back to Earl. “Here you are sugar,” she slurs. The man tips his hat to us and scurries back to his truck.

            My cheeks flame with embarrassment as I watch the truck peel away from the curb. My breathing is shallow and my palms feel clammy and damp. I wipe them on my jeans before extending a hand to my mother.

 “Come on Margret you’ve had enough to drink.” I help her to her feet and she teeters dangerously, stumbling over her discarded beer.

 I’m furious at her for letting her self-slip back into her old habits but I know it won’t do any good to lecture her until she’s had a chance to sleep it off. Taking her by her wrist I lead her past the foreclosure sign and up the drive through the doors of our dilapidated townhouse.

 Even with the overhead lights, the room is scantly lit. I help my mother onto the couch draping a course afghan over her. Settling myself down in a plush loveseat, I flip my phone open and dial Leah.

“Ello?”

“Hey Le-Le it’s me.”

There’s a slight pause on the other end in which I’m able to hear the creak of a door and a soft whoosh as something heavy drops down onto a cushion.

“Hey sorry about that Arial, I just had to shut the door so Rat Face wouldn’t eavesdrop again.” This earns a snorting laugh from me.

“Oh my gosh Leah, is that the little bro’s new nick name?”

“Yup, I know its pretty awesome isn’t it? Anyway enough about Rat Face, how did today go?” I squeeze my eyelids closed in an attempt to stop the unshed tears that have begun to well up.

“Fine.” However, a sniffle betrays me.

“Oh, Arial, I’m so sorry! Is there anything I can do? Have you guys found another place yet?” I let out a weak sigh, and tuck my legs up underneath me, wishing I could disappear. I hate the fact that my mother’s financial status embarrasses me, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m soon overcome with shame. 

“… Hey you still there?”

“Yeah, sorry about that I erhm... we haven’t found a place yet. “

“Well you know that I’d let you move in in a heart beat but my mom on the other hand…”

“Yeah I get it.”

“How about your Aunt what’s her face, the rich one who lives up state? I mean I know she and Margret had that huge fall out like what... ten years ago but I mean come on she has got to help, she’s family.” 

“Her names Helena. But I mean seriously Leah what the heck would I say ‘its Arial your estranged niece that you haven’t seen in eleven years can my mom and I borrow some money’?”

“Yes that’s exactly what you should do! Come on Arie, what other choice do you have?”

I let out a dramatic sigh, that ruffles my jet-black bangs and startles Mr. Kitty, my tabby.

“Ugh fine I think her numbers written somewhere in the emergency contact information. I’ll call you back once I find it.”

“Nope. You will call Helena once you find that number or…. or…. I’ll never let you borrow my sparkly uggs again.”

There’s a robotic click as the line goes dead, followed by a series of short, droning beeps. I shake my head and chuckle. Boy I love that girl. We had met on the first day of middle school, five years ago. A small cluster of teachers had formed around a small child with tomato red hair.  The first teacher had lectured in a booming voice, declaring,

“Here at Kingston Prep we do not tolerate dyed hair of any shade.” The small girl had let out a whinny of dismay, stomping her Mary Jane clad foot in agitation.

“But this is my real hair color you dummy!” All the teacher's had then let out a collective gasp and the second teacher then started in on her.

“How dare you talk back to your elders? You will report to the principles office immediately and your mother will be notified that you must change your hair color back to a more neutral shade. As it would turn out, the vibrant red color really had been Leah’s natural shade of hair.