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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Family · #2146935
A dark family comedy. Happy 16th Birthday Writers Cramp
"I'm sure they didn't forget your birthday. They just didn't remember it right away." Clara said to me, a smile on her face. "There is no way that your parents forgot your 16th birthday!"

"Cee, you forget that my mother yelled at my brother because the school called her when he was sick. And my dad, well..."

"I told you not to mention that man in this house again!" My mother bellowed as she walked into the kitchen, where Clara and I were. "And I've asked you a thousand times to quit calling me, mother. You can call me Samantha or owner. Whichever you prefer."

"I am not calling you Samantha. That's your name!"

"Owner it is then, glad we have that settled." My Mother turned and brought down a bottle of vodka, undid the cap, and lifted the bottle to her lips. "Also that man you were just talking about is coming over today with the hussy."

"I told you that they didn't forget your 16th birthday!" Clara jumped up and down clapping. My Mother and I both gave her a look of death.

"Dear don't jump and down like that, it's not flattering, and if my ex-husband were here, he would leave the current floozy to be with you." After another long pull of vodka, " Also there is no way Molly is 16, I'm only 25, and that would mean I was 9 when I had her. That's just not physically possible dear."

After my mother and her vodka bottle left the room, I slumped in my chair. "I had been looking forward to this ever since I was 10 and they promised me a sweet sixteen party. I should have known better."

"Your dad could still come through for you. He loves you to pieces."

"He did until he started hooking up with Laura. What do guys see in their kid's babysitters? It's disgusting is what it is."

My Dad peeked his head in through the side door, and in a loud whisper asked, "Is the She-Devil around? If I see her, I have to pay $10,000. I don't have the money for that with the wedding that Laura wants."

"She just went somewhere with her bottle of vodka."

"Isn't it a little early for her to be drinking her dinner?" Dad asked as he hugged me and held Clara in an embrace for a beat too long. "Laura decided not to come; her hair is still growing back after the catfight she had with your mom last time."

"So Mr. J did you come here for a reason. A Special reason?" Clara asked, her eyes filled with more hope than there was vodka in my mother's dinner bottle.
"Of course! Today is an extraordinary day, did you think I forgot?" Dad's voice went up high. It meant he was lying. I learned that the first time I walked in on him and Laura. In his squeaky voice, he had told me that she lost her contact lens. It was traumatizing for a 12-year-old. "You're going to be in the wedding!"

"I was thinking that you wanted to celebrate something that happened 16 years ago." Clara urged him.

"How did you know about my--" A realization fell over his face as he moved towards me. "There's no way that you're 16 already. I'm only 28, and I couldn't have made you when I was 12!"

"Does anybody in your family know their real ages?" Clara asked as she grabbed her backpack. "I have to run home, but I'll be back."

"Bye Cee."

"Oh good, I did catch you while you were here, I needed a new truckful of Ciroc." My Mother put the bottle on the table and grabbed another one.

"Seconds, really Samantha?I would think that you would be trying to seduce a new rich, young husband."

"Your money spends just fine. Make the check out to me already will ya?"

Dad whipped out his checkbook, a long string of profanity left his mouth. "Did you know it's Molly's 16th Birthday? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you come up for air from your hussy long enough to listen? Plus she is not 16. I'm 25 and could not have had her when I was 9. It's simple biology."

I left my parents to their hateful banter. My heart was already broke; there was no reason to listen to their vapid nonsense. The warm air surrounded me as I made my way to the shed. Initially it was supposed to be a place for My Mother to do art but then she discovered alcohol, and now it stood empty most of the time.

Mostly empty. I had stashed some alcohol in it for when I couldn't take it anymore. I'm not proud to say that I drank more than a sailor on leave. I twisted open the cap of a bottle of expensive vodka and held it to my nose. Sometimes I could dissuade myself from drinking it by taking a big whiff. Not today. "Happy birthday to me!"

"Molly Ann Johnson, where did you get that?" My Mother flung the door open, and her eyes were laser focused on the bottle. "If you're going to drink at least have the decency not to drink my dinner!"

"Aren't you tired of this life shallow life, Mom, Samantha, Owner? Isn't there a part of you that wants something else?"

Her eyes softened to confusion and darted around the shed. She inhaled deeply. "I don't smell weed, what else could you be taking? And why aren't you sharing with me?"

"I want something more, something deeper. I want a life fulfilled."

"OMG, it worse than I thought. You want to be a singer/songwriter." After a few seconds, she sat down beside me. "I thought I would be with your father forever. Forever turned out to be 12 years. I get by how I can."

She wrapped her arm around me, "Happy 16th birthday, baby."


© Copyright 2018 Author Ed Anderson (spaz11081 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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