Daughter of a Whore [on hold]

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

“I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.” 

― Marilyn Monroe

Only a couple hours into the night, somewhere around 11:45 pm, I hear the sound of rocks bouncing against the wall near my window. I open my eyes and sit still and stiff on the bed. Even though I am tempted to turn on the light and see what’s going on, I don’t.

I count a full minute before I hear the impact of a stone hit the window, and the sound of glass shattering.

I jump from bed and turn on the light. I slip into bathroom flip flops, and walk over to the broken remains of the window. I seize a side of the curtain, and peek out surreptitiously, only to see her standing there next to the shady tree. In tight shorts and a tank top that reveals her cleavage, her blonde highlighted curls held up high in a ponytail. She has someone with her. Mom. What does she want?

I slowly go to the door and find Grandma already there, but she doesn’t open the door.

“What are you waiting for?”

“It could be robbers.”

I laugh humorlessly, and grind my teeth. “No. It’s my mom.” I fling the door open, and there before me stands the woman, with a man besides her. Always with a man.

“What are you doing here, Angeline?” Grandma clutches her night dress, and I watch the goose bumps grow on my arms at the harsh wind that blows our direction. I feel like running back in to grab a jacket over my sleeveless pjamas, but I don't want to miss anything here.

Angeline Mendolzia crossed her arms across her middle. “Hi mom,” she doesn’t even glance at Grandma. “I need my daughter back.” The man at her side stands there like a log; poor guy. He looks too neat for Mom; he shouldn’t be tortured like this. Boyfriend #27 stares aimlessly at his phone, leaning against the wall.

“You are not having her back,” I say. “You didn’t bring her here, so you can’t actually have her back.” I pause and study her. “This is so cute mom. I told you you need me; two days and you already miss me.”

“Angeline—“

“Miss you? Remember, you were the one begging me to let you and it stay; begging me to give ya money—“

“I don’t need ya dirty money!”

Grandma tries again. “Ange—“

“Dirty money? You’ve been living on it all your life, babe!” Go ahead, make me feel guilty.

This woman is my mom, but when it comes to cases like this and everything about her, I wonder why I still call her Mom.

“Angeline, what exactly do you want? Do you know your daughter is pregnant with a baby?”

“Pregnant with..it's not yet a baby,” she corrected. “And she’s coming home with me. I’m the mom, what I say goes.”

“Mom, Grandma is here, what she says goes. And by the way, I like it here. Kids don’t know me, so they won’t poke me much about being pregnant.” Hopefully. Pensive pause, “So you want me to go home with you…does that mean you are going to let me keep the baby?” Small ray of hope.

“You wish.” Small ray of hope dead.

“Then why do you want me back? You just want the pleasure of killing a baby. Sorry, but only witches do that,” which I wouldn’t mind calling you one right now. Seriously is Death her middle name?

“Shut up, Delta. I am your mother and you will not say that about me!”

I wipe tears off my cheeks and sniff, regaining position. I can’t break down in front of her. I have to show her that I can do this. “Then why do you want me back?”

She wrinkles her nose, “Will you stop asking that? You have to live with me.” She grabs my cheeks, “Aww, aren’t we like the Gilmore Girls?” Mendolzia Girls? I smell hazard.

“Yeah, except Lorelai doesn’t smoke and she’s not addicted to rich men’s bloody money. Translation: she’s not a prostitute!”

<<Insert dead silence here>>

Mom’s face losses color. You can tell she’s dyeing for a cigarette. Boyfriend27's head snaps, and he seems interested in our conversation now.

I turn and start running back to my room.

“That’s not true!” She yells after me. “And hey, Rory isn’t supposed to be pregnant.”

“You never gave me birth control pills!” And I wish I could say this was all her fault.

Grandma stands there not saying anything. Hey, your daughter is corrupting good society standards, aren’t you going to call the cops? Nah, she’ll probably seduce them too.

I make it to the bed without stepping on any glass, only to find my mom and Grandma followed me. I stuff my earplugs in my ears, and crack up my iPod. Wow, this moment does call for a high-pitched Justin Timberlake solo.

“Mother, you have to hear me out. We needed money back then, and yay look rich men, and all you have to do is go out with them once. You won’t believe me, but I don’t do that anymore. Since when I met Kevin, he’s not like the others, he’s been helping me out, mom.” Kevin. The one I caught her lip-locked with on the couch?

“Helping you with money?”

“No, helping me get a life. He helped me get a job at the Decoroom two months ago.”

I drop my ear plugs. “Goodness, gracious me! You’ve been with Kevin for a more than a day?” My mouth drops in mock-shock.

“Shush, kid, I don’t need your sass,” she glares at me. “Kevin’s really nice, and not judgmental like you guys.”

“So you’re cheating on Kevin, huh?”

“Why the hell would you say that?”

“Well who’s that guy out there?”

“Honey, that’s Kevin! Didn’t I introduce you to him about a week ago?!”

“That’s Kevin?” I shoot off the bed. “Holy—“

“You should pay more attention, Delta.” I sprint out of the room and back to the front door.

“You!” I point my index finger at him. The guy who is in jeans and tee-shirt, with his hair suprisingly short. He looks to me, his grayish eyes confused.

“Hi, Delta. I’m sorry about—”

“Why are you with my mom? 'Cause you look different..." My first impressin of him the other day on the couch was that he needed a shave. I don't like a lot of facial hair on guys. Did I mistakenly voice out my thoughts about shaving?

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Okay so supermom shows up again.... Should Delta be nicer to her?

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