She shook her head. “Blondes. Always forgetful,” she joked with Jim.
“Yep, I’m surprised she remembered which trailer we're in,” he said, choking on his own laughter at his stupid joke.
I ignored both of their jokes, knowing the best move was to let their comments roll off my back. There was a time when I would have killed myself trying to win Lucinda’s approval, but years of physical and verbal abuse had hardened me and my only goal now was to protect Kevin from the same abuses I endured.
“I brought your bag in from the car. Do you want me to go over to the store after I finish unloading the rest of the stuff?” I asked, addressing Lucinda since most time Jim was incapable of making trivial decisions.
“Sure, that sounds good. Rosa, our welfare rep, said the trailer was stocked with basic stuff, so I’m sure we have pots and pans. Buy the stuff for sloppy burritos, and I'll make dinner tonight,” she said, proud of the commitment she had made.
“Sure Mom, that sounds good,” I said, my mouth already watering at the thought. For all her faults, she was definitely a great cook and when she got the inclination to make something homemade, it was always guaranteed to be tasty. “Is it okay if I get lunch stuff for school tomorrow, too?”
She grimaced at my words. “I guess, but you better get the forms you need for free lunches. I don’t want to be wasting our money when the state owes us.”
“Okay Mom,” I said, backing up out of the room before she changed her mind. I hated asking for the forms at school and going to a small school would make it even worse.
I had just barely closed their door behind me when I heard Lucinda’s voice calling me back through the thin wall. Sighing, I turned back around.
“Yeah?” I asked, opening the door a crack.
“Bring me my makeup bag and clothes before you go off gallivanting around.”
“And I want a big glass of ice water,” Jim piped in, not wanting to miss out on handing out a task.
I looked at Lucinda inquiringly, but she let it slide. She was usually picky when Jim or any of the other step-whatevers tried to boss me around. She felt her demands were justified since she was my actual flesh and blood, but Jim was just a step-dad in a long string of losers Kevin and I had to endure over the last ten years. Lucinda liked to switch husbands like most women switched handbags or shoes. The cycle was always the same. They would meet, fall in love promptly, realize they knew nothing about each other, and fight until Lucinda gave them the boot. The fighting I could endure, but the love part was always nauseating since most of the time she didn’t care who was around when they groped each other. I was six when I learned what the "birds and the bees” were and decided at that moment I wanted no part of that if it made you act so crazy. It was several years later that I realized that not all adults flaunted their sex life so openly and the majority of them didn’t act like loons over it.
“Sure,” I said to Jim, not wanting to rock the boat.
I unloaded the rest of the car in my usual methodical way, placing our meager belongings in their appropriate places.
I delivered Lucinda’s makeup bag to her just as she requested. Her makeup bag was a long standing joke with Kevin and me, since she treated it like it was the Holy Grail. She once left one of my step-dweebs on the side of the road when he threw it out the window during an argument. It took Kevin and me almost an hour to pick up the makeup that had scattered across the landscape. Lucinda cursed out the dope the entire time as Kevin and I tried to salvage as much of the busted up cosmetics as we could. Once we had it all cleaned up, we pulled away, leaving step-dad number four looking forlorn on the side of the road. Looking out the back window, I had almost felt sorry for the poor guy. Lucinda suffered the seven stages of grief over the next three hundred miles we traveled and contemplated turning around multiple times, but by the time we reached the next big city and started to settle in, he was soon forgotten as Lucinda searched for her next Prince Charming. I often yearned for those brief three months when it had just been the three of us. Lucinda was a much better parental figure when she wasn’t fawning over her newest obsession.
Chapter 2
I headed over to Higgins Grocers once everything was unpacked from the car. Relishing the rare treat of being completely by myself, I kept my pace slow as I made my through the trailer park. We had never lived in a community like this and I was amazed at the amount of work each owner put into their makeshift homes. My favorite was the yard that held the multiple garden gnomes. Most of th
em were cheesy and quite ugly, but I liked the idea that they took the time to collect things they enjoyed. I've never had a collection of anything. I tried with books, many times over, but each time we moved, everything that wouldn't fit in a duffle bag was left behind. I did manage to hold onto three of my favorite books over the years. They were all falling apart from being read over and over again, but they were by far my most treasured items. I always hid them in the bottom of my bag so Lucinda wouldn’t make me dump them. The only thing she and I had in common, except for the obvious mother-daughter thing, was a deep love of reading, but she felt books were disposable and easily replaced. I felt the exact opposite. Each book I read opened up a whole new world for me. It didn’t matter that we were poor, had no food or no place to sleep. If the story was good enough, I could completely submerge myself into the pages, letting the outside world fade away.
I was pleased to find the grocery store clean and well lit inside. It was a little smaller than I expected, but seemed to be fully stocked. Grabbing a buggy from the front of the store, I slowly made my way up and down the aisles, grabbing the ingredients for lunches and dinners that were cheap enough to keep Lucinda pacified.
I made sure to scoop up a dozen packages of Top O’ Ramen soup for Kevin and me. At twenty cents a package, it was a cheap staple item for us. We didn't always have a means to cook them, so we would crunch the package up, pour the seasoning mix into the bag of broken pieces and shake it up. That was Kevin's favorite part. We would munch on it with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and it would fill our bellies for hours afterwards.
As I pushed the cart down the cereal aisle, I passed all the name brands that Kevin and I preferred, choosing the generic economy-sized bags instead. Some of them didn’t hold a candle to the name brands, but we had learned through trial and error that the generic chocolate puffs were the closest in taste to Cocoa Puffs. I grabbed one of the bags from the back knowing they usually moved the older stock to the front. We could tolerate the generic brand, but once it went stale, it really sucked.
Milk and orange juice were the next items to make it into my cart. I dreaded the weight they would add to the bags on the walk home, but knew both were necessities to Kevin’s diet. Once I had all my items, I pulled my buggy off to the side to total up my cart and cringed at the amount. I surveyed the cart critically, trying to decide what I could put back to shave seven dollars off my total. I remember Rosa telling Lucinda there was three hundred-seventy-five dollars on the card, but I also knew from past experience that overspending would not go over well. I put back Kevin’s Cosmic Brownies along with the grapes and bananas I was hoping to sneak into his lunch. Kevin and I weren’t huge fans of fruit since we really didn’t have much opportunity to add them to our diet, but I had wanted to start encouraging him to eat healthier. I noticed most of the produce was unusually costly here, but figured it must be off-season or something.
By the time I made my way to the front of the store, the sun was starting to set outside, so I quickly unpacked my goods onto the conveyor belt. I was so intent on my task that I was startled when I realized the bag boy was talking to me.
“Huh?” I asked looking up. My face filled with color as I took in his boyishly handsome face. He had thick brown hair that threatened to fall in his eyes if not for the hand he used to push it back off his forehead. His eyes were the typical brown you would expect, but seemed to sparkle as he smiled at me. Within our endless travels over the years, I had run across my share of cute boys, and even went out with a few, but it was the dimples that sat in both corners of his mouth that instantly captivated me and set him apart from any other boy I had ever met. He was more than boyishly cute, the word steamy jumped to mind. I knew without a shadow of doubt he was trouble.
“I said you must be new,” he said, smiling broadly at me.
“Yeah, we just moved in across the way,” I said, indicating the trailer park across the street.
“That’s great. We never get new people around here. The last people to move here was Shirley Mc…”
“Jones,” I finished for him.
“Exactly. How did you know that?”