/ / S H E H A D A F A C E S T R A I G H T O U T A M A G A Z I N E / /
"Is my birthday really on the seventeenth?" I ask Papa quietly. I'm sitting on the kitchen counter as he's doing the dishes. Daddy had invited Matty out with him to run errands and Ari is currently asleep. Part of me worries for Matty, but I'm sure he's in good hands.
Papa passes me a plate and I wipe it with a cloth, swinging my legs back and forth. "Of course it is, Marcy. We didn't pick it out or anything." He hesitates, rinsing his hands and taking the plate from me, placing it in the cupboard. "This is about what Margret said, isn't it?"
I shrug, "Just wondering," I say lightly. Papa stands in front of me and turns so his back is facing to me. He motions for me to hop on and I giggle, complying, like I was a child again. He piggybacks me to the living room, and I hop off. He bends down beside the bookshelf, rummaging through books at the very bottom. I sit cross-legged beside him.
"I know you said you didn't want to know, but," Papa says, grunting a bit when he pulls out a thick album from the middle of the line, "I think you should know. At least some."
"About...my mother?" I ask, the word is almost foreign to me so when I test it out, it's a tad bit odd from my mouth.
Papa smiles a bit and nods his head, flipping through the pages of the photo album. It's from his high school years, so I have to laugh when I see a picture of Daddy with Jheri curls. "He was so handsome," Papa gushes with a sigh, "Sometimes I wonder when he let himself go." I gape at Papa before we erupt in a fit of giggles, "I'm just joking, he's still looking quite dapper."
"What about you, Papa?" I ask, pointing to a picture where he's got his hair done up like Johnny Depp circa de Crybaby. He had on a white t-shirt under a leather jacket and I let out a whistle, "You were a greaser!"
"Greaser is so 50s, Princess," Papa scoffs, "these were the 80s, I was just badass."
"What happened?" I ask, staring at him now, ginger scruff along his face, hair side combed. I suppose if I look hard enough, I can still see traces of Papa's teenage self.
Papa shrugs, "I met your momma and she kind of showed me a glimpse of what my life could have been if I kept up." He flips the page and continues, "It wasn't pretty, Marcy. She was danger, she looked straight out of a magazine; dressed in tube socks and short skirts. I cleaned up my act – kept the style mostly, your daddy loved the styles," he chuckles, "But I stopped hanging out with her." He points to a picture where he's surrounded by a group of people. His finger rests on a girl, blonde hair pulled up in high side ponytail, a tight green skirt settling from high waist, pink kitten heels, a tight white tank top tucked in and a leather jacket draping over her shoulders. She was gorgeous, and as far as eighties fashion went, she looked fairly badass in her neon ensemble. In her hand, a cigarette dangled, in her other, she was pulling a bright red lollipop from her mouth. Her green eyes were graced with bright makeup but they glinted mischievously.
"She looks like me – a really blonde, eighties badass version of me." I say.
Papa touches a lock of my bleached hair, "You're fairly blonde and pretty badass, Marcy," he chuckles.
"I'm terrified of germs," I point out, "I'm so badass."
He laughs, pulling my face to kiss my cheek. "You do look a lot like her," he admits. "It's kind of scary sometimes, but you've only gotten he good from her, and I'm thankful for that."
"Was she...bad?" I ask.
Papa chooses his words carefully, "No, she wasn't. She made bad decisions, I suppose," He hands me the book so I can flip through the photos. "Her name was Heather," he informs me softly. "She was one of my best friends. She helped set your daddy and I up way back when, but she met a boy she tried too hard to impress and fell into some bad habits. She wasn't a bad person, Marcy; she was sweet and kind, but honest and blunt. Strong and hardheaded and it got her in a lot of trouble." He sighs and I don't miss how he talks about her in past tense. It turns my stomach slightly. "She started doing drugs, really strong stuff that got her hooked quick. We lost touch quickly, I couldn't handle her shit and your daddy wasn't too keen of her. I didn't even know when she fell pregnant with you until much later in her pregnancy, and I'm sorry Marcy, but I don't know if she took drugs with you either."
My eyes widen a bit, but as far as I know, I'm perfectly healthy.
"Your daddy was in the hospital when you were born," he laughs a bit, but its not filled with humor, it's kind of empty. "One of his mates had gotten injured in a game so he rushed them to the hospital, it just so happened that your momma was rushed there too, and I promise, the date was 17th of November." He shrugs, "I rushed over to the hospital when your daddy called – two of my friends in the hospital, I was kind of nervous. by then, I knew Heather was pregnant but, the dates weren't really adding up – you came a bit early."
Papa reaches over to the bookshelf and hands me another photo album – my baby album. There's only one picture of me in the hospital; I never really looked at it before, but I realize now the person who's holding me is a woman. "You were healthy," Papa tells me, "nothing wrong with you at all," he chuckles, "Kind of chunky too," he pokes at my side and I squirm a bit. "But I haven't seen your mother since then. I left the hospital, you were both asleep and I left a note, told her to call me when she needed my help. She never did. A few weeks later, we're mulling about, setting up for the holidays. It's starting to snow and your Daddy was making hot chocolate while I try to set up our first Christmas tree. We get a knock at the door and I went to go get it. I didn't see anyone at first, just a car passing by, and then I look down and you're sleeping in a little basin, just a note from Heather on your blanket, 'Take care of Marceline, you'll be a better parent than I ever could be, love always, Heather.' And that was it."
Papa frowns, tilting his head, "Don't cry, Princess," He pulls me to his chest and I hear him sniffling. "It's alright, baby," he murmurs. "We don't resent it, we love you, you're one of the best things to happen to us."
"I love you," I tell him, sobbing grossly. He strokes my hair and pulls me onto his lap like I'm a little girl again. It's how Matty and Daddy find us upon their return.
"Hey," Matty mumbles, striding beside us, he takes a seat next to Papa and rubs at my back.
"Hey," Papa greets back hoarsely. Daddy notes the books askew on the floor.
"Oh," He sighs out, "I'm sorry, Marcy."
I pull away from Daddy. My eyes are still wet but I try to smile up at Daddy, "It's okay, I'm fine," I tell him. I didn't know my mom, I didn't think I wanted to know her, but I'm glad Papa told me, because I appreciate them so much more. I don't resent her. I don't know her motives, but I suppose she was only trying to give me the best. I wipe at my eyes and reach my hands up for Daddy to pull me up. I give him a hug, "I love you."
He hugs me back tight, "I love you, too, Marcy."
I pull back and grin, "Papa said he misses your curls," I giggle before grabbing Matty's arm and dragging him away. Papa lets out a moan and calls me a bigmouth before we're out of earshot.
"You alright, Mars?" He asks and I nod my head, trying to explain what had just occurred, taking a seat on the steps.
"Shit," He murmurs, pulling me for a hug. I notice the bag's they had left at the door and quirk an eyebrow.
"You went shopping with Daddy?"
"Hmm?" He glances to the bags, coming out of his stupor. He smiles indolently, "Yeah, he knows his fashion."
"It went alright then?" I bite at my lips, canting my head to rest on his shoulders. He wraps his arm around me, nodding.
"Yeah, it was fun, actually. Got some presents and stuff. Gonna help set up the tree later," he tells me.
"I didn't know you celebrate Christmas," I admit.
He shrugs, "Not really, but its nice to be around family, and I like handing presents over."
When I look up at him, I find his cheeks are tinted, "You're cute, Matty."
He rolls his eyes, "Fuck off."
"Fuck me," I wink.
"I would," he insists.
"What if I told you I wanted you right now?" I ask, whispering into his ear, biting his earlobe.
"In a house with both your parents and your baby sister asleep?"
"Isn't it more fun that way? Exciting?"
He groans, "You're terrible."
-
"Why are these so expensive?" I groan to Stefani, my only friend who's not currently at work nor is part of Matty's band.
Stefani rubs her belly over her cashmere sweater and tilts her head, "I can split the bill with you," She offers. I frown.
"It wouldn't really be my gift, would it?"
She chuckles, "To be fair, I wasn't getting him anything to begin with, so, its just me offering some cash, it's really no big deal," she assures.
I look at her dubiously, not really keen on taking money from her. She sighs, "Marcy, I'm loaded, this is less than a percent of my income," she tells me, "Beside, you can give him a little something else on the side."
I furrow my eyebrows, "Like what?"
She winks, giggling, handing me five hundred dollars in cash. My eyes are wide but I talk to the store clerk and pick out the one I want, paying the difference. "How am I going to hide this?"
She doesn't answer but instead tells the worker that we'd stop by to pick it up in a bit before leading me a lingerie shop. "Now, I'm thinking green, It'll bring out your eyes and red is so overdone for the holidays."
I raise my eyebrows, finally understanding what she means, "Oh my god," I say.
She grabs an armload of things, holding them all out to me, "Which one would he like?"
I furrow my eyebrows, "Anything as long as it's coming off," I admit.
She laughs, "Okay, point taken." She picks at an emerald get up and grabs actual garter belts and sheer black stockings. I'm blushing insanely but Stef is nonchalant about it all, idly asking if we were getting lunch after this. "You'll keep that necklace on?" She points to my neck where the necklace Matty had gifted to me lays. I let him put on me once and never took it off.
I had been scared that the chain might break, but Matty stopped me, "It's platinum, it's pretty fucking strong, besides, I trust Tiffany's." My estimate on the price had immediately risen as well as my blood pressure. I'd complain but it showed to have little to no effect on him.
"Um, yeah," I tell her, touching it lightly.
"Marcy?" We both turn our head to the voice and I nearly groan at Natalie. She seems to show up everywhere these days.
"Hi," I say carefully, "What are you doing here?"
She chuckles, "Taking my break – what are you doing here?"
"Getting underwear," Stefani deadpans beside me. "You are?"
I blush, forgetting my manners, "Stef, this is Natalie, Natalie, this is –"
"Stefani Klingenberg?" Natalie stares awestruck at the woman beside me and then glances down to where her hand is resting on her belly. "Oh my god – it's true then – you're...pregnant?" She glances at me with wide eyes.
Stefani grins tightly, "Three more months to go!" She turns to me, "I'll go pay and let you two catch up." I nearly beg her to stay, I'm becoming more and more aware of Natalie's affect on me. After learning about how easily swayed my mom had been, I find the similarities between her and me more and more striking. While Natalie isn't doing hard drugs and won't get me pregnant, I'm at a good place right now, and I don't wish it to be ruined by something she puts in my mind.
"Is that...is it Matty's?" She whispers to me, grabbing my arm and leading me away.
I shrug, "Most likely."
"And you're okay with that?" she furrows her eyebrows.
"It happened before he met me. I mean you fucked Brian while we were still together, yet here we are." I bite my lip at my remark, wondering how long I've kept that in.
I'm surprised Natalie doesn't fall back, instead she says, "He didn't get me pregnant though – nor am I addicted to coke." I frown at her.
"Are you...are you trying to justify your actions by coming at her?" I ask, precautious. I shake my head, not wanting an answer, truly. "I should get going, I'll see you around."
I walk over to where Stefani is grabbing the bags and she links arms with me, leading me out of the store, "Matty complains a lot about her," Stef tells me. She chuckles, "He's such a little bitch sometimes."
I laugh loudly, leading her back to our first store, grabbing the gift and asking if she's up for fries and orange soda.
____________________________________
For sure, this book is definitely coming to an end soon
Ahh overwhelming!!!!
Listen guys, I've written tons of stuff in the past (that I'm totally ashamed of lbr it will never see the light of day) but I've never actually finished them. The fact that I'm so close to completing this book is, like, monumental for me, So i want to thank all of you for showing interest, because I'd have given up forty odd chapters ago, So thank you so much for liking, commenting, reading, adding to your libraries, ignoring all my grammatical mistakes and following me! I love you!
:) x