Moose and Goose

Chapter Sixty-one

"David told everyone in our dorm that he fucked you." Judith freezes, the spirit in her eyes dim, and her lips fall agape. "Crazy enough, you missed him this morning. He swung by to tell Jerome how he marked his territory."

"When will he be back from work," she raises her voice to overpower his obnoxious laughter.

"He's not talking to you. He made that very clear," Justin explains, stretching very for emphasis. "I wouldn't be surprised if he walks by you without speaking. Hey, but congrats on the scholarship to Morehead. I guess that tantrum worked, huh?"

Judith slams the handset to the hookswitch, her teeth gnashed.

"Judy," Sheryl yells from the living room, and Judith leans against the counter with her hands pressed against the surface for support.

"Sorry, Mom." She takes a deep breath, a chill rushing down her spine and straightening her posture. She returns it to her ear, spins the numbers, then rhythmically taps her fingers against the countertop.

"Cambridge residence." Judith squeezes her hand on the phone, her palm glowing red.

She wants to scream, curse, and fight him, but all she can muster is, "Keep my fucking name out of your mouth."

"Well, good morning to you too," he sarcastically says.

"Fuck you and your good mornings! Tell the truth to everyone that you lied to about us!" David chuckles, the swift motion of his hand dragging across his lips muffling his chilling laughter.

"Judy, I said that to Mary because that bitch was clingier than a puppy." She scoffs, but before she can respond, he continues, "How was the funeral?"

"Fuck you," she says through her teeth, and he sighs.

"I'm glad this is the last time you're going to Alabama," he mumbles. "I'm noticing how masculine you're being right now, and it's definitely a boner-killer. Maybe I should get back with Mary. She had her issues, but at least she spoke to me like a lady should."

"Maybe you should because the chances of us being a happy couple died the first time you hurt me. After that, there wasn't love. It was survival," Judith explains, taking jaded breaths as a lump forms in her throat. "I never even got a chance to feel any love for you now that I think about it. I guess the real reason l tried to help you through your issues was because I was afraid Stevie might turn out just like you, but no, he's who I need to worry about. You're a reprobate."

"I guess you figured me out, huh?" David scoffs at her confession and asks, "What issues do I have, Sigmund Freud?"

She pauses in thought, contemplating whether she should answer him or change the subject. She takes a shaky breath and swallows her nervousness.

"You have a father complex. It's why you idolize your Uncle – the bachelor who takes you to his country club – because you want someone to teach you how to be a man." David doesn't speak, so she continues, "And your mother gave you the opposite side of that parental coin. You want a woman to nurture you because she never spent time with you. So it's like – you want a woman to love you, but you can't accept it or allow yourself to get it before you snap and scare the person away."

"You done?" Judith sighs, then rolls her glossy eyes onto the paper in front of her. "Since you're taking a class in Psychology all of a sudden, let me give you something to think about: how about you fix your princess complex? Wait, let me finish. It's your Dad's fault, right? He spoiled you so much you can't walk; you have to be carried?"

"At least my Dad stayed in my life, unlike yours," she argues, and he laughs through his tears.

"Well, at least mine is alive." She blinks back, and tears glide off her puffy cheeks. "In fact, he's just pulling into the driveway, so I'm gonna see if he feels like going bowling. I'll let you cry in peace."