Loving Life

Chapter 20: Mattie

Dianne's rusty truck pulls out with Ervin half an hour later. Is Ervin looking for my window where I sit on my bed, looking for his amber eyes also? What is he thinking about?

Long after the pair left, I slink downstairs and heat up the breakfast I knew Dianne would leave sitting in the fridge. That's when it hits me that she really does care, that no matter what arguments we will get in, she will always be there. My parents were never like that. I guess they figured I was smart enough to know not to create arguments. Honestly, I feel more open with Dianne than them.

The side door leading into the cramped kitchen creaks open an hour later. I'm still sitting there, staring at my breakfast. I really don't want to eat it. Dianne shakes out her curls messed up in the wind. Immediately, her soft face turns into a hard, disappointed frown, and even harder when se sees I've been contemplating my breakfast.

"Mattie, what happened yesterday? I didn't mean you could sleep with him when I said you could date him." Her fury evaporates like a cloud of smoke, turning into disappointment.

My fury is the opposite: it soaks into me. My anger flares like fire wrapping its flaming arms around new tinder. I shove her aside, running up the stairs toward my room. She doesn't trust me when she clearly should. Dianne follows me.

At the top, she says, "Mattie. It's one simple question! Stop running from a simple answer!"

I spin around. "You ruined it! You ruined my relationship!" I scream, spitting at her. "We were having such a fun night, and then you bombard me with that disgusting conversation!"

"I'm just looking out for you, that's all." Her face softens. A slight level.

"Guess what? I don't need you to breathe down my neck every freaking second! Jus let me live my life the way I want. Let me make mistakes. Maybe then I'll be the kid you hoped I'd be. And why don't you trust Ervin or me?"

"Of course I trust you. You know I trust Ervin."

"Then why did you ask if we--" I stop.

"I don't know. I was worried." Dianne sinks against the wall, holding her head in her hands. "I'm sorry. Motherly instinct, you know?"

"Well, I'm seventeen, and I think I can handle myself. Now, if you don't mind, I'm tired." I slip into my room and close the door, locking it. Got out from eating breakfast! Dianne would have to break down the door and I have a feeling she wouldn't do that.

Tears stain my cheeks, my pillow uncomfortable and disturbingly wet. Dried saliva trails from my mouth. So it wasn't just tears. How lewd.

A note sits under my phone, little pieces of chocolate acting as paperweights I imagine. I pick one up, eyeing it. No. I am fat. I cannot have such sweets that are high in sugar and saturated fat. I need a scale.

Biting my lip, I pick up the rest, throwing them in the nightstand's drawer. The note has bits of sticky chocolate melted onto the paper, and I don't feel guilty swiping my finger across it. Underneath the chocolate is Dianne's almost illegible handwriting:

Dear Mattie,

Hope you slept well. I'm truly sorry about yesterday. Do you like to bake? I won't make you do that or chores if you don't want to. I was planning on giving them to the neighbors, but, again, if you don't want to, you don't have to. I'd love it if you came downstairs and we had doughnuts for breakfast. Frank is gone on a construction project. It can be very stressful. Hopefully, that explains his drinking.

I love you very much, even if you aren't my actual daughter. I miss having a child in this house.

Dianne

I look up from the note. Tears start to gather at the corner of my eyes. I wipe them away, crumpling the note and throwing it at the wall. So much for not having the chocolate.

Downstairs, Dianne sits at the table, absently drinking a mug of steaming coffee. A box of unopened doughnuts sits next to her.

"May I have some coffee?" I blurt, awkwardly breaking the silence. It's like the birds and crickets stopped just to stare at my rude introduction. I don't even like coffee, but instead a macchiato.

She looks over to me, a smile spreading across her face. "Sure. You get the doughnuts, I got the coffee."

If you don't already know, temptations absolutely suck. She went and bought a dozen of my favorite brand: Dunkin' Doughnuts. The first time and every other time I had them were only at my friends' sleepovers. There too, I had to tell myself, Don't go over your three-hundred calories! Which was hard considering one doughnut alone is filled with saturated fat and close to two hundred calories. And one little doughnut won't fill you. In the end, I always ate four and would work my butt off to get back on track. For the next week, I would hurt so much I didn't want to move when I knew I had to in order to lose that weight.

You'll be baking, and you might steal a few fingers' worth of dough. No. That is so germy. Never have I licked the batter off my finger and stuck it back in the bowl. Stuck my finger in in the first place. Again, this was always at houses other than my own.

My parents always made me throw away my Halloween candy, wouldn't let me go out on Halloween, wouldn't buy candy, and would instead pretend we weren't home. Very rarely would my mother would make cookies or pie, never eating any of her work. Three years ago, I got the point and followed in my parents' healthy lifestyle.

"How about we just forget everything completely? Never speak or think of it again," Dianne mentions. I only catch the last part, lost in the fog drifting lazily over the man-made pond and expanse of lawn. I nod, even though I don't know what I am agreeing to.

"What are we going to make today?" I ask, changing the topic, after a quiet silence.

"Hmm...I was thinking about canning some jams, make some pies, and possibly if we have time, energy, and money, some cookies. Would you like to frost them?"

So many places to steal sweets.

"Yeah. Sure."

"Okay. Do you wanna grab the buckets by the door? Frank planted me a grove of fruit trees when we moved in twenty years ago. You can pick whatever's ripe, and we'll use them in our jams and pies." I nod again. I use the momentum and propel myself upwards. Dianne laughs, sipping more of her coffee.

"It's only seven. We got time. Frank fed and milked the cows already. We have that done by now usually."

"Oh." I sit back down on the rocking swing. I take another doughnut and sip the smooth coffee. Just what I need to keep me from falling asleep today. I can already see the caffeine and sugar I will need to keep me going when I have to start helping with early morning chores and I cry inside.