Karma's a B-Word

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I pull one shirt out of the dryer with my eyes closed. When Jack told me he did laundry, I knew something would go wrong. I'm afraid to find out what it is. If it's June's clothes, she's going to be furious. She's fourteen and ready to explode with all of that pent-up teenage rebellion. I think we're too lenient for her to rebel properly.

With everyone home for Thanksgiving, the house is too full for anyone to get angry. If one person gets mad, the rest will soak up that anger and take it out on each other. We'll have fourteen metaphorically slammed doors.

It's alright, though. Jack's just shrunk his own clothes about two sizes. I think I'll put them away and not tell him. I'd like to see him in tight clothes again. He started dressing more modestly when someone at work commented on his 80s style outfits that I thought looked really good but I guess aren't very professional. His solution was to go to work in short shorts, a crop top, and fishnets the next day. He wore his platform shoes from when we were sixteen. I didn't even know he still had those.

Needless to say, he got a talking-to from management, though they really thought it was hilarious.

I'm still moving clothes from the dryer to a basket when someone knocks on the door. I shout for Aurelia to open it because I know she's close but she orders Freddy to. He says something about being the youngest, not a servant and that he should get paid for this crap.

I'm still laughing at him to myself when I hear her voice.

I know the woman at the door and I don't want her here.

God, she's talking to my kids.

I start to storm out of the laundry room but my body won't let me. I would burst out right in front of her. Instead, I flatten myself against the wall and listen to them talk, unable to go out there and throw her out.

"You really have no idea who I am?" she asks.

"You'd think the blank stares and confused looks would answer that question for you," Aurelia says.

I'm so proud. She's caught up with Jack's level of snarkiness.

Speaking of, my husband comes down the stairs at the exact wrong time. The stairs are right in her sight, so she pushes past my children to hug Jack.

Jack freezes and lets my mother wrap her arms around him like they're family. It's an awkwardly long time before she lets go. She acts like we've seen each other in the past nineteen years.

Jack spots me in the laundry room and I realise that it's time for me to get over it and get her out of my house.

I step into the room and stare at her. I guess everyone can tell something's wrong, because all fourteen of my children, official and unofficial, gather behind me. They used to do that when they were little and we encountered people who didn't approve of me and Jack having children. Jack would deal with them while I and the older kids distracted the younger. But now, they just gather. I'm the one who has to deal with them but we've never done that before.

Jen follows the sudden movement and that's when she sees me. Instead of a big hug like Jack's, she takes one hesitant step forward and looks worried and sad.

"Why are you here?" I ask her.

"There's something you should know."

"How did you get this address?"

"Your old Christmas cards. I've known about this house for a few years now. I just... didn't have the courage to come here."

"Why now? It's over a thousand miles. You haven't spoken to us in nearly twenty years."

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