Her husband went on shaving. “It’s driving me crazy.”
“My dress?”
“No. You know.”
“Owen, he’s not some Dickensian waif you can pluck up like Oliver Twist. He’s your nephew. He has parents.”
“Horrible parents.”
“His parents.”
“They aren’t fit! God only knows what the kid sees. Pot, sex, meth, whatever walks in that trailer door.” Owen drew an even line through the foam on his cheek and shook the razor in the sink.
“You don’t know that.”
“You mean I can’t prove it.”
“Same thing.” Clarissa let go of the dress to rub his shoulders. “Honey, we’re helpless until they fuck up. And right now, we’ve got our own family to think about. What would we do with a newborn and a baby nearly a year old?”
“We’d figure it out.” Owen started a new razor trail, but blood bloomed behind his blade. He hissed at the sting.
“Stop it. You’re bleeding. That’s going to make me sick!” Clarissa looked at the floor.
He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and went on shaving. When he shook out the razor again, he also grabbed the styptic pencil to rub on the cut.
Finally, Clarissa said, “When everybody’s downstairs at your grandma’s, I could make like I was nauseous and needed to lie down. I could go through their luggage. See what I found.”
Owen cut himself again on the third pass, and this time, he didn’t stop the blood. “And do what, then? Assuming they were dumb enough to have it with them?”
“I guess we’d have to figure that out.” She looked up and met his eyes in the mirror.
“I guess we would.” He set the razor aside and gripped the bathroom counter with both hands. They watched each other that way until the blood dripped down his chin and into the sink, a growing flow, too deep to easily staunch.
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Jessie Powell is the Jester Queen. She likes to tell you about her dog, her kids, her fiction, and her blog, but not necessarily in that order. |
I love the way the blood is like he’s bleeding for his nephew.
Hop over and visit Andra watkins’s recent post Just Blowing Hot Air
And won’t ever stop.
Gosh, I wish I didn’t know what this is like–sort of–but I kind of do. Well done, Jessie. Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family!
Hugs from Ecuador,
Kathy
Hop over and visit Kathy’s recent post Rat Race in the Andes: How Anderson Cooper Came to Cuenca
I think most of us do in one way or another.
Sad, but an all too real situation in some families.
Hop over and visit Tara R.’s recent post Eat ’til you drop
The holidays invariably make me think of this kind of thing.
Never-ending streams of blood, along with the frustration in the dialogue, make for a wrenching piece. Excellent writing, Jessie. Sending wishes to you and your family for a happy Thanksgiving. Thanks for sharing your talents.
This is a very real account of a horrbile situation some families face. I really like how you weave the story with what is happening at the moment. A vivid slice of life.
What’s sad is that this is an all too common situation in families… you posted an incredibly vivid picture with their heartache and blood.
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Real, gritty, rich dialogue. I loved it all.
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Well-done, the pacing of the story while he is shaving helps modulate the intensity of their concern about their nephew. Excellent!
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I like the little details. Great work!
The holidays and family are upon us, and with them come any number of vexing issues. Nice writing, Jessie.
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This read like an actual conversation many of my former clients may have had. Wonderful dialogue.
Hop over and visit Trifecta (@trifectawriting)’s recent post Trifecta: Week 105
Tense ball of holiday fiction, that.
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