Demi Halfknot

Chapter 1 - Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

Christmas sucks! Oh, mom made sure it was a very traditional Christmas this year, but it was mostly to distract her from her boyfriend being away on business - on Christmas, for chrissakes! What kind of asshole company makes its employees travel on Christmas? Mom just smiles sadly and tells me, in her sage-woman voice, "It isn't what you think." But she picked at the turkey and poked at the stuffing. The food was good, but dinner sucked.

Then, about the time Mom was performing an autopsy on a slice of pie, my own boyfriend, Mike Krattis, showed up, shuffling at the front door, and dumped me - on Christmas! Who does that? Oh, he did his lame best at the "we can still be friends" speech, but I'm not an idiot. Thea Miles just got a car from her rich daddy and it's got a big back seat. She's been gunning for Handsome Mike since freshman year, with her sweet tea smile, standing close and giving his eyes time to laser map her terrain from space. The Theas of the world get everything they want eventually. I was just stupid enough to fall for a boy with balls for brains. Oh well, at least I now run zero risk of ever getting saddled with a name like Demi Krattis.

So now I don't have a boyfriend, and Mom does-if he ever shows up. What is it with Mom having boyfriends, anyway? That's just messed up. I mean, I like Chris well enough. He's easy to talk to, and has an infectious laugh, and he isn't fake about anything, but like, it's my mom he's dating, you know? Okay, I know "she's got needs," but it's getting serious. Like, "he stayed the night" serious - yuck. She's never invited any of her other boyfriends to stay, even the nights she came home with makeout hair. She slept in that bed alone every night since Daddy died-until last month.

I remember when Daddy would come home from some faraway place. He'd always wear his dress uniform for Mom with all the bright stuff dangling from it that mom said showed he was a hero. He'd kiss her long and sweet. Then he'd put me on his shoulders as we went to the car. He was my hero, ribbons or no ribbons. I still miss him. Chris isn't tall like Daddy. He isn't slim like Daddy. And he's got hairy legs. Gross. Thinking about Chris lying where Daddy used to be makes my stomach hurt. I know he's going to ask Mom to marry him. I just hope it isn't tonight. I don't want today to suck any worse than it already does.

This diary was under the tree, a gift from Chris. It's got a sturdy lock on it, not the lame kind of lock on most diaries. In the note, Chris said it was so I can write what I feel without holding anything back or worrying about hurting anybody's feelings. It looks like I'm going to be writing a lot.

Mom keeps looking out the window, waiting for him, looking worried like she did when Daddy was away. Since you'll never read this, Chris, I should tell you you're not so bad. I wish you weren't going to marry Mom, but I know you will anyway. Just get back here safe. Don't get killed like Daddy did and break Mom's heart all over again.

Dear Diary,

Happy New Year's Day, I guess. Chris proposed to Mom tonight. She said yes like I knew she would, we all went to dinner, and I made myself scarce so I wouldn't have to see them cuddled up on the sofa. I guess its something I'll have to get used to. Ugh. Now I'm sitting on my bed wondering how long it will take before I hear their tread on the stairs, muffled conversation in Mom's bedroom, and then - the sound of them celebrating. They used to wait until they were sure I was asleep. (I wasn't.) Now that everything's official, I don't know. I wish the house wasn't so small. I may take a walk.

Nope, scratch that. I get a reprieve. Mom just tapped on my door. She says Chris went home, that he won't be staying the night until the wedding in May. We hugged for a long time, both of us tearing up a little. She told me she'd been lonely, that ten years alone was a long time. I wanted to say she wasn't alone, that she had me, but I knew what she meant. I told her I was happy for her and Chris, but it was going to take me a while. It's going to take me a long while, a lot longer than May, but I didn't tell her that. At least I've got a little more normal time before everything gets crazy.

I'd better turn in. It's back to school tomorrow, where I can watch Thea spreading herself all over Mike like peanut butter on whole wheat. Oh, joy. Once she's got him unwrapped and on the shelf in her bedroom with all the other Ken dolls, she'll forget he's even there. Boys are so stupid.

Dear Diary,

Chris dropped the bomb on the way to church this morning. After the wedding, we're moving - to Alaska?! I don't like winter. Mom says he's got a big place up there. She says I'll have lots of room to sit and write, and he's got a lot of relatives up there to get to know. Suddenly, for all that people say its the most boring, uptight state in the union, I really like Connecticut. Even Alabama sounds better than Alaska.

So then I had to sit in church next to Mom and Chris and pretend nothing just happened. Mom always makes it a point to go to church on Easter, even if we don't go most of the rest of the year. We wear our prettiest dresses and pretend like we belong there. This time I actually prayed - to go anywhere but Alaska.

Like I figured, Thea dropped Mike once she proved she could have him and he came crawling back to see if I was still interested. Now at least I've got a way to say no to him without a lot of drama. He's an idiot, but he really can't help himself. I wonder if they've got any smart boys in Alaska. I doubt it. I don't think boys are made that way. Of course, after six months locked away in a cabin with nothing to stare at but snow and pine trees and howling winds, maybe I'll be ready to do just about anything with any kind of boy I can find. Getting snowed in makes you crazy. Are all the girls in Alaska crazy?

The daffodils are out, the sun is shining, and all I can think about is the long, dark winter to come.

Dear Diary,

Why did everything have to all happen at once? Last week, the movers came and took our stuff, so we've been living in a hotel. This morning, Mom married Chris. As weddings go, it wasn't awful, except for it being Mom in the fancy dress. My own dress wasn't ridiculous and Mike crashed the reception to say goodbye. He's still an idiot but I've decided he's a sweet idiot. Of course, I can afford to think that because I'll never see him again. Now, I'm mostly just tired.

I'm sitting alone in the room across the hall from theirs in this big hotel near the airport. I'm not sure if they arranged it that way so that they could celebrate without having to keep their voices down, or so I didn't have to endure the sounds coming through the wall of an adjoining room. I suppose it amounts to the same thing. Neither Mom or I want me to know what she sounds like when she's-whatever.

Mom's having a light dinner brought up to their room in about an hour, so we can all pick at it once we've caught our breaths. In the meantime, I'm watching the sun set. Our plane will be going the same direction really early in the morning. We'll be up and out for a 5 AM flight and there isn't much I can do about it.

Hello Alaska, I guess. I read about it a little. The sun never sets in the peak of summer and that lets them grow huge vegetables, so I guess it can't be snowing all the time. A lot of it is pretty rural, but that means there's a lot of hiking, which sounds okay, and hunting and fishing. I'm not so sure about those, although I do like salmon. (Salmon's apparently really big up there.)

We'll be staying for a week or two with family in Anchorage, which is supposedly a pretty big town. Chris has a son named Tor who lives with his Aunt Lynnie when he's at college there. I'll stay with them while Chris and Mom fly north to get the place set up. The school sent me off with a ton of work for the last six weeks of all my classes, and Lynnie will help me finish all that up while Tor sweats his way through finals. Then I'll drop it all in the mail and Tor will fly me to meet them in my new home. When he isn't studying anthropology, Tor's a licensed pilot and does charters all summer.

I'm not sure I like the idea of living someplace you have to fly to get to. Mom swears up and down that the three of us aren't going to be walled away together in a log cabin in the woods, that it's more like an encampment full of relatives, and there's an Indian village with a pretty good school not far away. (Figure Mom to zero right in on the school.) Mom and I never had a lot of relatives. I hope they're nice, 'cause we'll be stuck with them if they aren't.