truculent (adj.)
overly aggressive; eager to fight
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WHEN I was in middle school, I used to play softball. I wasn't very good, but I wasn't the worst on my team. Granted, it was a recreational team, and nobody was a stellar athlete.
One game, I was put in the outfield. Saying I was bored out there would be an understatement. I was typically a first baseman, used to the action of participating in almost every play, so what would you expect? And at that age, nobody was strong enough to hit the ball into the outfield.
Naturally, I spent my time picking flowers in the grass.
It all went swimmingly except for those few seconds I turned my back to the game.
I was arranging my flowers into a pretty pattern, so I couldn't see what was going on in the infield. But, I could hear the other team's cheers and my coach's cries for me to get out of the way.
When I turned around, a line drive was coming right at me. I didn't have my glove on anymore, so all I could do was stand there, frozen in shock.
I distinctly remember my mouth gaping and feeling like I was underwater.
The ball ended up hitting me in the stomach and knocking the wind right out of me. For a few seconds, my internal organs tightened, and I couldn't breathe. And at the same time, I felt like I was going to throw up.
Once the initial shock of the hit was gone, I writhed on the ground in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. I should have been breathing, but my oxygen-deprived brain resorted to laughter as a defense mechanism.
That rollercoaster of emotions was similar to how I felt when my father asked me to move back to Chicago. The wind was knocked out of me, leaving me in silence before I started laughing in his face.
I lurched forward, almost faceplanting onto the carpet in my manic fit of giggles. Luckily, Ethan and Ella were there to save me from adding injury to his insults.
"D-did you just ask m-me to live with y-you?" I chortled once I regained the ability to form words. "I'm definitely hallucinating right now. Did the meat not get cooked?"
"You heard me right. I'll sign it right now if you agree to come home with me." He gestured towards the papers that were in Uncle Ricky's hands.
"Fuck no!" my mom exclaimed. "Why do you think this is even an option?"
"What do you mean 'fuck no?' You should be saying fuck yes," Grandmother said.
"Please enlighten me, mother," she said, pivoting to face Grandmother. "Why on Earth should I agree to this?"
"It is your opportunity to finally get rid of this man and distance yourself! You are bringing additional shame to this family with each second you stay wedded to this clown... Not to mention, this is a tremendous deal! Similar to a buy one, get one free deal at the supermarket! End the matrimony and get rid of her. Who even cares about Ch—"
"Okay, mom, it's time for you to go, too," Uncle Ricky stepped in.
"No," she said indignantly. "It is at last becoming intriguing. We are not leaving."
"Yes, I concur with Evelyn," Grandfather chimed in. "Charlotte and Michelle are not good for anything, but they are certainly more interesting than you."
Aww, that must have been the nicest thing he had said to me.
"That's it. Get out, now," Uncle Ricky growled, pointing towards the front door.
They obstinately refused to move a muscle—not that they had any left in their senile bodies.
"Do I need to shove you out the window? Leave. Now. You two have caused nothing but problems today."
I would have laughed at the fearful looks on their faces if the environment weren't so tense.
Ricky took a threatening step towards them.
"Fine, we are leaving." My Grandparents slowly rose from their spots on the couch. Aunt Kelli followed and practically pushed them out the door to ensure their departure.
My father cleared his throat. "Michelle, I will sign these papers and be out of your hair if you let me have custody of Charlotte... She'll come live with Candie and me."
Candie took the opportunity to wiggle her shiny diamond ring in our faces.
"You're engaged?" I asked.
Everything suddenly became crystal clear: he wanted to flaunt his fiancée and new life.
Not that we even gave a shit.
"Yes. We are getting married this spring," Candie announced, hugging my father's side.
Ella moved closer to Candie. "Can I see your ring? It looks beautiful."
Candie beamed and let Ella examine it up close. A small smile overtook my face as I recognized the mischievous look on Ella's face.
"Hmm, it looks very dull and foggy... Are you sure it's real?"
"Of course it is," Candie squeaked, looking a little red in the face. "You just don't know what real jewelry looks like."
"Eh, I still think it looks fake, just like your personality," Ella quipped, dropping her hand.
Ethan snorted but was instantly silenced by his mom.
Candie scoffed sanctimoniously, "Where are your manners, child?"
"With someone who's worth it."
I barked out a laugh but quickly disguised it with a cough after receiving a harsh glare from my mom. I got the message: now was not the time to joke.
"Ella, that's enough," Aunt Kelli interjected, sounding tired. "Go to your room. You too, Ethan."
That begrudgingly went upstairs after directing me worried glances. I waved them off; it wouldn't be that hard to get rid of my father.
Mark was like a fly. We just needed to hit him with a swatter a few times before he would get the message and disappear. And if we were lucky, one of the whacks would kill him.
"Like I was saying before," my father said impatiently, "Charlotte will need to come back to Chicago with me in order for the divorce to proceed. We will leave tomorrow."
"Shouldn't I get a choice in the matter?"
He ignored my important question. "So, Michelle, what do you say?"
"How many times do I have to say it? I am not going to let you take my daughter."
"Well, then someone might tip off the police and tell them that you ran away with her. I can see it all play out: you'll lose custody and won't get your divorce." His gruesome face turned triumphant. "Now, that would be a shame, wouldn't it?"
"And you think blackmailing us is how you'll get your way?" she scoffed, voicing exactly what I was thinking. Blackmail was how children operated, and he was thirty-three years too old for the first grade.
"It's not blackmailing. It's... negotiating," he smirked. "It'll be my word against yours. Who do you think a judge will believe? Surely not the woman without a stable job, home, or college degree."
Candie sniggered, "It would be a miracle if they even allowed you to see dear Carrie."
It's Charlotte, you bitch.
"Well, you two are absolutely disgusting," my mom muttered.
"A perfect match, really," I whispered, causing her to crack a smile.
"Well, say 'bye-bye' to the prospect of a divorce," my truculent father announced as he crossed his arms and leaned back.
He was either bluffing or even stupider than I thought. Most likely the latter. There was no legitimate way for him to marry Candie without divorcing my mom first. It was illegal, in fact. He would need to say bye-bye to this ridiculous marriage in order to hold his grudge.
"Gladly. There are other ways to forcefully divorce you," my mother said, with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"And I will make sure that it never happens," he countered. "You'll be stuck married to me forever."
"What about this sham of a marriage?" She motioned between my father and Candie.
"What do you mean?" His face crinkled in confusion.
I was right, he really was obtuse. It was a wonder that he made it through college. Then again, his parents were also rich, so he probably bribed his way to straight A's.
"You do realize that you can't be legally married to two people at once, right?" my mom chuckled.
The color drained from Candie's orange face. "That's not true, is it?"
I nodded. "Maybe you should pick up a book instead of gossip magazines."
"Hush, child. I wasn't asking you, I was asking the grown-ups."
"Yes, it is true," Aunt Kelli announced. "I saw a couple on the news going to jail for this. I think they got life sentences."
Now, that would be a glorious sight. I could just picture it: my father and Candie in their orange jumpsuits and handcuffs, being pushed into a filthy, smelly cell. I would pay good money to watch the show. Maybe I could record it and sell copies to pay for the therapy I will need to heal...
"Dadd- Honey, why can't we just forget about the brat? Why do you want her anyway?" Candie whined into my father's chest. "I don't look good in orange."
I agreed, she certainly did not look good with her orange tan and matching foundation.
He ignored her. "Fine, Michelle. If the divorce deal is off the table, I won't pay for Charlotte's college tuition unless she comes with me." His victorious smirk reappeared. "What's it going to be? Chicago or college?"
"Y-you can't do that," my mom's voice cracked.
"Sure I can. The account is in my name, and I am not legally required to pay Charlotte's tuition. Maybe Candie and I will use it on a nice vacation to the Bahamas. Or, if you'd prefer, Charlotte could come live with us and obtain a college education... It's all up to you."
"Fuck you, Mark," she spat in his face. "Charlotte stays here."
"No, she will be coming with me. I won't let you stubbornly throw away her chances of a better future. I won't have her ending up just like her mother. She doesn't have any brothers to support her."
"No, she stays here." My mom stomped her foot, slightly shaking the room.
"No, she will come to Chicago with me!" he roared, rising to stand inches from her face.
"No, Mark. Just fuck off!"
"How 'bout you fuck off?" he shouted, voice crescendoing.
"Shouldn't I get a choice in the matter?" I huffed, tired of being ignored in a conversation about my future.
"If you must," he sighed tiredly and sat down. "Charlotte, will you come with us?"
"No! Never in a billion years."
He seemed shocked, making me wonder how socially inept he was. I thought it was obvious that I couldn't even stand to be in the same room as him. Let alone live with him. I had been there, done that, and hated it. Thank you, next.
"Why won't you give me the chance to make up for my mistakes? I'm a changed man. Let me prove it to you... Please, Charlotte."
"Yes, because a changed man would fly across the country to ruin Christmas," I croaked derisively, my throat tightening with unshed tears.
"No—"
"Save it for someone who cares," I sniffed, wiping the tears that suddenly sprang from my eyes.
"Char—"
"No," I interrupted, rising from the couch. "Just go away! You've said what you wanted to say and ruined Christmas in the process. We don't want you here, so fucking go away! You are an absolute piece of shit and I want nothing to do with you! Nothing!"
Without another word, I spun on my heel and walked away.
As if they were on autopilot, my feet took over and carried me to the front door. I involuntarily broke into a run and got into my car, ignoring their cries to come back.
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A/N: Thanks for reading chapter 25! Leave a vote and comment if you hate Mark and Candie! 😁💚
QOTC: What are your favorite song lyrics? (or your favorite quote)
My Answer: I have an entire note dedicated to this on my phone lol. Right now, I'd have to pick "All we are is skin and bone, trained to get along" from Taylor Swift's song Treacherous. "Time turns flame to embers" from her song Innocent is a close second.