Anne Gallagher

No Way He Didn't Have Sex With Marilyn Monroe

"How many slaves you think George Washington had sex with?" Carl asks no one in particular as we start eating breakfast.
"Carl, eat. Now."
"More than Lincoln, less than Jefferson." I answer.
"Anne!"
"What? He asked. Figure he hears it from me rather than the internet." I explain.
"Now, which president had the most sex?"
"Easy. Kennedy. Reagan is a close second, with Clinton in third."
"Really? Reagan and Clinton?" Ian asks me with a confused face.
"Kennedy because he was obviously the most good looking president. And there's no way he didn't have sex with Marilyn Monroe after she sang him happy birthday. Reagan is second because he was a hollywood actor before being president. Then Clinton because of the whole Monica Lewinsky situation."
"Have you thought about this before?"
"Yes and no. I know about our presidents, but never really ranked them based on their amount of sex." I shrug, taking a bite of my food. Everyone's silent for a moment, baffled by my explanation, before Fiona pipes up, changing the subject.
"Ian, that bruise is looking better. Who beat you up again?"
"No one. It's ROTC, practicing hand-to-hand."
"Marines still fight with their fists?" Carl asks.
"In certain situations, yes."
"What's the point of building nukes if we ain't nuking anybody?"
"Gross National Product."
"Has Lip heard anything new about Karen?"
"Still asleep."
"Karen or Lip?"
"Both."
"We're out of peanut butter." Debbie points out to Fiona before turning to Ian. "Staying home today?"
"Stomach is still killing me." Ian slightly groans.
"Any more Pop-Tarts left?" Fiona looks around the kitchen.
"Carl finished them. He ate three."
"I'm a growing boy."
"Gonna have you celebrate that by walking to the store for some peanut butter. And Pop-Tarts. And tampons, sorry." Fiona begins to hand Carl some money as Jimmy walks down the stairs.
"Up and at 'em, yet again. Impressive." Jimmy says
"Having a job does that to me. Speaking of which," Fiona looks down at her watch. "I gotta go or I'll be late."
"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?" Jimmy asks.
"Uh, yeah, cool. Can you walk with me?"
"Yeah."
"Bye, see you later." Fiona says to us.
"Bye!" Carl exclaims, scarfing down the last of his breakfast.
"You too, bruiser. School." Ian points to the door. Carl groans, getting up from the table and putting his dishes in the sink. I grab Carl's backpack, put on mine, and push Carl out the back door.

On the way to school, we hear someone run up to us from behind. Carl holds on tighter to my hand as an arm snakes around his shoulder. Frank. Damn it.
"We're not supposed to talk to you. Fiona and Lip will be mad." Carl says.
"Of course they will." We continue walking in the direction of school. "They treat me like a leper because I'm a 'bad father.' Yeah, right. Let me tell you two. You haven't seen bad parenting till you witness my mother in her glory days. Had this piece of wood she called a retribution stick. Flat side, skinny side. If I did something small, like steal an extra cookie, or piss in her shampoo bottle, whack, flat side. But if I did something heinous like set fire to her bed while she was napping, or rat her out for her garage gambling ring, the skinny side, like a whip." He starts to pretend to whack us. "But did I throw that bitch into the gutter when she needed a home? No. I brushed her hair. I washed her saggy tits. I irrigated her ulcers. I nursed her all the way to the grave." Frank forces us to stop walking. "But you people," He gestures to the two of us. "Making me homeless in the dead of autumn. After I got you through cancer." He points to Carl.
"Frank. You had us kidnapped for a whole year. Don't start."
"Best damn year of your life, too, I bet. You had a bed to sleep in, meals every day, running water, plumbing, and heat and air conditioning. Hell, it was better than you have now. And you've got me to thank for it. I slept on a train last night."
"Cool!" Carl exclaims. "Can I try that?" He asks.
"No, Carl. Out of the question." I shoot down even the slightest possibility.
"It's barbaric." Frank follows up. "I have no place to go. Do you get it?"
"I could sneak you into the van tonight." Carl suggests. I sighed and rolled my eyes. Carl may be a psychopath, but he's still got a big heart.
"You'd do that for me?" Frank asks. Carl nods and gives somewhat of a smile. "You little piker, you." Frank ruffles his hair.
"All right, we gotta get to school." Carl says, starting to lead me along. Frank takes off in the opposite direction.
"You're really gonna help him?" I ask.
"It wouldn't hurt." Carl shrugs. "Repaying him for at least giving us an opening to go to camp."