New people have moved into the other half of the house. A young man named Jeff and his sisters Sandy and Norma. They’re from down east. And Mr. Congeniality proceeds to invite them over for beer. The girls are underage but he tells them to go ahead and they don’t refuse it. I don’t drink so there are no worries there. They look pretty healthy for being on their own. The youngest, Sandy, is all of 17 has very large breasts, which she insists on showing by leaning forward every time she talks and she talks a lot. She and Jonathan act like they are the best of friends and I know it’s just a matter of time before he sleeps with her.
He hands me some money and tells me to go get some donuts for our “guests” here. They tell him they’ve had a big dinner and they’re ok but he insists and I go. I seethe all the way there and all the way back. When I get back, he’s playing guitar and they’re all signing and he’s telling Sandy what a great voice she has. I just bet. I don’t care. She can have him. It’s her age that bothers me. I remember the last time…
I wrap up one donut and put it in the fridge. The babies will love to split a “dobit” in the morning. I put the rest on a plate and serve them on old napkins I found in the cupboard, because I don’t have enough plates to go around. For people who “just had a large dinner” they jump on those donuts like they haven’t eaten well all week. I grit my teeth. That’s my department. I won’t touch any of those donuts.
The beer runs out and they finally go home. He makes comments about how nice those girls are and I don’t say a word. “What?” he barks at me “I’m not allowed to have friends! I’m not allowed to have people over!” “I’m the one who’s not allowed friends!” I want to scream at him. He slams his hand on the counter and I jump. All my nerves are on alert. What! I’m going to get a beating because I think he behaves inappropriately with Sandy? “I didn’t say anything,” I plead. “You don’t have to” he yells, “I can tell by that superior attitude of yours.”
I leave the room, wash my face, get into my nightgown and get ready for bed. He can beat on me and my superior attitude when I’m done. As I come into the kitchen I see him leaning against the counter and he’s eating the donut I’d saved for the babies. He’s eating that donut! is all I can think. “Thanks for keeping this donut for me.” He says. “They ate them so fast I didn’t get any.” He’s eating that donut. I’m about to tell him that when he tells me I’m a good wife and I think I’m in the wrong house. I keep quiet. That donut may just have saved me a lot of pain.
We make the bed and he rambles on about those girls and I finally have enough and say “For God’s sake! She’s only 17!” In the dark I don’t see his expression and he doesn’t answer. I know he knows what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the other girl…the one whose encounter with Jonathan turned our lives inside out…I don’t want to live through that again.
He was 22 and that girl wasn’t quite 15…
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Tags: beating, beer, donuts, large breasts