Written for OLWG# 271
I was getting dressed in the back of the house. Me, Dave, and Russ were changing clothes and drinking beer when I heard a light knock on the door. I looked at Dave as if to ask, “who would that be, then?”
He shrugged, “Dunno.”
Russ was closest to the door, so he reached out, turned the knob and swung it open. It was Mom. She looked at Dave, she looked at Russ, and then she looked out the door. Russ got the hint right away; he grabbed his beer, “Don’t be too long. I still have to finish dressing,” he said as he walked out of the room carrying his beer. He had not yet put his shoes on, so I knew he wouldn’t go far.
Dave looked at me, then out the door. He shrugged again and grabbed the beer he’d been working on along with a fresh one. He followed Russ out into the passageway.
Mom went over to the door and pushed it shut. “Sun,” she began. Mom always called me Sun. She used to say that it was because I was so bright, but in all truth, she couldn’t spell, and once she made the initial mistake, there was no going back.
I smiled at her and thought Oh Shit, here we go.
“Sun,” she said again. “In about half an hour, you’ll be marrying Phoebe. I’ve made certain that nobody’s out there who will object when the preacher asks, so I think it’s pretty much a shoo-in that you’re getting hitched. I want you to know that this means I’m washing my hands of you. You’re her problem now for as long as she’ll have you. This is the same speech that my mother-in-law gave my first husband when we got married all those years ago.”
She paused, pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, “No,” she said, “not my first husband. It was my third husband, Coot, whose mama told me that she was done with him and that he was my problem from then on.” I did get the last laugh though. After the shine faded, which took maybe a week, ten days at the most, I sent him back to her. Coot was a real ass. His mama was probably the only woman who could ever love him.” She paused her speech, reached over and pushed up on my chin. How long had my mouth been hanging open? I had no idea.
“Now,” she kept on, “If you love Phoebe, I reckon you better straighten up and treat her special. I don’t think you’ll ever find another woman dumb enough to put up with you, and I’m not takin’ you back.”
Mom lit a cigarette and squinted against the smoke in her eyes.
“You understand, boy? You better treat that girl good.” Mom stood and smoothed down the front of her dress. She spun towards the door and started walking.
“Mom?” I implored.
She lifted her fist above her shoulder and slowly raised her middle finger as she walked out of the room. It was nice to know that we had her blessing.
Shortly after, Dave and Russ wandered back in to finish dressing.
This week’s prompts were:
- you’re her problem now
- …but first, let’s look at the stars
- no, not my first husband