Memoirs of a Girl Wolf (8 page)

“That’s odd,” she said, looking around the room as if it was just misplaced.

My brothers and I nodded in agreement that it was super odd. None of us were willing to confess what really happened to the delicate throw pillow in fear that Mom would punish us so we all pretended we had no idea where the pillow was. Fortunately, because it was my special night, Mom waved her hands and said, “It doesn’t matter. Not right now anyway. Presents,” she said dumping a load of gifts in my lap.

The gifts were wrapped in shiny paper and tied with blue bows. They were so pretty and wrapped so neatly I felt almost guilty unwrapping them. My brothers on the other hand, whined that I was taking too long to open the gifts. They threatened to tear into them if I wouldn’t.

Mom told them to sit on their hands and be quiet and then turned back to me and moved to the coffee table where she sat across from me. My brothers sat mumbling on the floor and the all stared at me as I opened each gift.

From my brothers, I received a video game that they wanted. I guessed mom gave them money and they ended up getting something for themselves. I didn’t play video games but I wouldn’t make a fuss about it because I knew and they knew that I owed them, so I said thank you promised Mom that it was a fine gift and I really wanted Minecraft.

But, I was more excited about Mom’s gifts: a long sleeve, V-neck forest green sweater that she said would look gorgeous against my creamy, wan complexion and red hair. She also gifted me with a grey, wool pea coat for the fall weather, a black and blue color block blouse, and a leather bound journal. I didn’t think I’d get much use of that. My life just wasn’t interesting enough to record in writing.

My last present was a little box. When I opened it, my breathing slowed. My reaction caused my brothers to run over to me to see what I was staring down at and Mom to hold her hand to her heart as her eyes watered. Inside the box was a glass Mickey Mouse figurine. I held it up for everyone to see. I hadn’t received a new figurine since . . . well ever. The collection started and ended before I was three years old. Why would Mom twelve years later want to add to it?

“That’s cute,” Mom said with a tense smile.

“Yeah,” I said, placing it back in the box.

“For your collection,” Mom said

“Yeah,” I said again, setting the box on the coffee table. Viktor’s ghost like presence was sometimes oppressive. It had the ability to silence all of us and at the moment it did just that. A birthday is a time my father should be there celebrating with me and he wasn’t. He had missed a lot of birthdays. Although it was sweet of Mom to try to get me something for the only representation, in the form of a Mickey Mouse collections, I had of my father, it only reminded me of how absent he was.

And then she said, “It’s from Daddy.”

And now we all looked at each other. My brothers didn’t have anything from him. They didn’t even have a memory because Viktor left right after they were born. He hadn’t tried to contact us, not to my knowledge and now Mom told me that he sent me a birthday gift? I had so many questions. Did that mean Mom still communicated with him? Did he stop by? Did he want to see me?

“Victor?” I cleared my throat. He was always just Victor. I couldn’t call him Dad and I sure as heck would not call him Daddy.

“Yeah, well, when he started the collection he picked this one out,” she picked up the figurine and looked down at it in her cupped hands, “and he said, “I’m gonna give this to her on her sixteenth birthday,’” she said, smiling. She wiped her eyes before lifting her head and looking at me.

I couldn’t believe she was crying as if she still had feelings for that man. How could she? He left us. All of us, and her alone with three children—new born twins at that. I snatched the figurine from her and dropped it back in the box, so it wasn’t really from him she had just been holding on to it all these years.

“I want cake,” I said, standing.

“Wait, one more,” she said, handing me a small bag.

I sat back down and opened the bag excited to have one more present, but then I pulled out a pouch of tea leaves.

“We can have some after dinner,” she said, patting my leg.

I faked a smile.

Mom wanted to have dinner early. She kept glancing out the window and staring at the sky lost in thought. Then she would look at me with a concerned expression. As if she was stuck on repeat, she continued asking if I felt alright and if I wanted some tea right now.

“I’m fine,” I said, again, the tenth time that night.

She patted ground beef into hamburger patties. It smelled good. I licked my lips.

“How do you guys want your burgers? Well done?” she asked.

“I’d like mine a little pink,” I said.

“Medium-well?” she asked, as she placed the patties on a plate and headed toward the deck to put them on the grill.

“Pinker,” I said.

“Medium?” she asked.

“Maybe a little pinker,” I said again, surprised at myself. Usually, I liked my burgers very well done.

She came to a stop before walking outside and turned to face me with a spatula in one hand and the plate of burgers in the other. “Medium-Rare?”

“Yeah, like when you press down on it and the juices are red, you know?” I said.

“Ewwww.” I heard my brothers say from behind me.

She tilted her head to the side and studied me again with that worried expression. “Hmmm,” she hummed, before walking outside to begin grilling the burgers.

At dinner they all watched me with disgust as I ate my burger. Red juice dribbled down my chin. Josh said the burger looked bloody, and I guess it grossed them out because they all only ate a couple bites of their burger. After seeing me devour mine in a few bites, they wiped their hands with their napkins and waited for cake.

I didn’t care. My burger was delicious and why this was the first time I tried a medium rare patty, I don’t know, but I’d definitely be eating rare from now on.

Mom dimmed the lights and stuck candles in a round cake. They sang Happy Birthday to me as she walked into the room and set the cake in front of me.  To Josh’s disappoint the cake was not strawberry with cream cheese frosting like he wanted, he had won the trash competition, but lemon: my favorite.

“I knew your brother was blackmailing you so I went and got what I know you’d want,” Mom explained.

“He wasn’t blackmailing me,” I said, staring apologetically at Josh.

“Mickey threw away your pillow,” Josh accused.

Mom looked at me with her mouth open in surprise.

I deserved it, but I really wished Josh had waited to tattle.

“Yeah, sorry, one of my friends I think kind of ripped the pillow and then there was stuffing everywhere and we had to throw it away,” I said, nervously.

“Okay,” Mom sighed. “Okay, okay, first of all Josh don’t tell on your sister on her birthday, and second of all Mickey, I expect you and your friends to respect our home and our things, not destroy our things, okay? When I’m not here you are responsible for our home and I let you have friends over because I trust you, so don’t ruin anymore of my pretty pillows and you owe me a new one out of your allowance or birthday money Nana sent you, okay? Now, make a wish and blow out your candles because the wax is dripping on the cake,” Mom said.

I shut my eyes; knowing I should wish for my date with Max to go well tonight, or for Max to ask me to be his girlfriend, or especially that Mom wouldn’t catch me sneaking out or into the house, but what I ended up wishing for was to see Reign again.

I opened my eyes and blew.

Mom cut and served the cake. I ate my slice quickly, once I noticed it was almost six o’ clock. After devouring the delicious lemon desert, I ran upstairs and into my bathroom where I dumped some make up essentials into my purse: lip gloss, eyeliner, mascara that I could use to touch up my face in the car, and then brushing my hair with my fingers I ran back down stairs and slowed my pace as I walked back up to Mom holding my stomach.

“I’m gonna go to bed,” I said, frowning. “I don’t feel well after all.”

Mom turned to me and felt my forehead with the back of her hand. “Okay, do you need anything? Soup? Sprite? I’ll come tuck you in.”

“No,” I said. “No, it’s okay. I’m just gonna go to sleep.”

“You’re tired?” she asked, biting her lip.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna shut myself in my room and sleep maybe watch a movie if I can’t fall asleep.” Mom was always good at leaving me alone if I asked to be alone, so I knew she wouldn’t check in on me for a few hours. She’d only stick her head into my room on her way down the hall from saying goodnight to my brothers and because it was Friday that wouldn’t be until about ten and I figured I’d be back from my date by eight at the latest. I’d never gone on a date, so I didn’t know how long they lasted but I thought two hours sounded about right. 

“Okay,” Mom said. “Let me know if you need me though.”

I began to walk away. “I will,” I said behind my shoulder. As soon as she turned her back to me, I tiptoed to the side door, slipped my shoes on, picked up my purse, and quietly opened the door and closed it behind me. Once outside, I sprinted across the yard. I was running so fast and despite it being dark out, I could see clearly. The cool wind blew against my face and through my hair. Within a few seconds, the end of the lane came into view. Breathing heavy, I came to a stop as headlights shinned on me. I used my arm to shield my eyes and, smiling, I ran to the side door of the yellow Volkswagen waiting for me.

8

By the time we reached the beach, dust had turned to night and the full moon was high in the dark sky. I don’t know if it was the burger, but my stomach had started to rumble and the temperature kept rising. I felt as if I was baking. I couldn’t be sick, not now—it had to be nerves.

He was already there, standing next to the public restrooms where I had told him to meet me. Kristen parked the car and I jumped out, smoothing my blue shirt over the waist of my faded jeans and using my hand to flatten my hair which was a frizzy red mess at the moment, I took a deep breath and said good bye to Seth and Kristen before running, then walking, then running again, toward Max who stood with his hands in his pockets.

When I first walked up to him it was kind of awkward. We didn’t know what to say to one another or how to greet one another. He kind of gave me a half hug which felt even more awkward.

“It’s my birthday,” I said because I felt like saying something but I wish I hadn’t told him that. Would he feel like I was expecting a gift?

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know,” he added, apologetically as he swung his hands back and forth.

“That’s okay,” I replied. My hair stuck to the back of my neck. I was dripping in cold sweat and my rumbling stomach turned into a slight uncomfortable pain. I was trembling as my entire body was vibrating. Spotting a wooden bench not far from us, I suggested we sit down.

He liked this idea but instead of leading me to the bench he took me back to his parked car, a dented, rusty white SUV, he patted the hood and I climbed on while he retrieved something from his car.

He jumped onto the hood next to me and opened the North Face jacket he wore in order to pull out a pint of Bacardi rum. He unscrewed the top and took a long sip then passed it to me with a strained smile.

“Happy Birthday” he said, shaking the bottle.

I looked back and forth between him and the bottle. “I don’t drink,” I said. Didn’t he remember that?

He shrugged and took another long sip.

“What about your scholarship?” I asked, thinking back to our conversation in the woods.

“I thought you’d like me better if I said I didn’t drink,” he said.

Red hair blew around my face. I grabbed hold of as much as I could and held it in place with a tight fist. “Oh,” I said.

He took up so much of the hood with his legs spread far apart that I kept slipping from my place and a couple times had to jump back onto the car after sliding off. I scanned the parking lot behind us wishing the Volkswagen was there waiting for me.

“You trying out for the cheerleading?” He asked without looking at me. He was watching the rolling waves of the lake before us.

“Yeah,” I said. Try outs were Monday, though I hadn’t given it as much thought lately as I had weeks ago when Kristen suggested I may have a chance at making the team.

“Cool, I’m dating a cheerleader,” he said, moving closer to me. He put his heavy arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer to his warm body.

I held my hands up and pushed him away, but he wouldn’t let me go. I struggled a little which caused him to spill some of his Rum. He shouted, blaming me for the spill.

Someone walking their dog a mile away came to a stop and turned to look at us. I was embarrassed. I hopped off the car and crossed my arms demanding he take me home.

“What’s with your eyes?” Max asked pointing a finger at my face.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone and turned it on then he held it in front of me as he ordered me to smile for the camera.

I was growing madder by the second, the more he invaded my space and put his hands on my shoulders, ordering me to look at him, and when I refused to meet his cold stare, he grabbed hold of my face and lifted my chin.