Lisa Djahed - Bee Stanis 01- The Foolish Stepmom (3 page)

“Listen, can you give me a way to get a hold of Bev or
not?”

“Here’s her cell number,” he reluctantly pulled out a way too high-tech gadget and proceeded to rub the screen.

I whipped out my phone and after several stumbles managed to get it into my own phone. And huffed out of there before saying “get lost” or “thanks for nothing”- Ben’s teaching me that saying nothing is better than saying wisecracks. (Although I’m still not sure I agree with him.)

After rushing through the grocery store and picking up a
sweaty, still snotty teen. It was time to rush home and start my real job. Break time was over.

Chapter Three

“Latest Breaking News” was my favorite text that Ben sent me. He found a reason to send me a news bulletin every other day with some bit of information. It was a charming thing. Something I always enjoyed.

So here it was.

“Latest Breaking News” As if he were a news reporter on Fox

News. I loved it. Cue in dramatic music. “What?” I always texted back. “I found out where Bev works.”

“Really.
Where? How did you find out?” It was always so silly having these conversations via text. So finally I just called cause I was too impatient for him to type his reply.

“Where does she work honey?”
“At Grotto Telecommunications.” “How did you find out?”

“I was telling Nick, at work,” Nick was Ben’s best friend at the car dealership “and Nick told his mom, who works at GT about the whole Drew dead, Bev missing thing and she said, well I know a Bev. Turns out Nick just called
her, it is the one and the same. There aren’t many Bev’s who are missing who date a boy toy whose ex-husband just turned up dead.” With the hours that they have to put in at the dealership (60-70) they spend a lot of time gossiping and joking with one another. We had become close with Nick and his wife Larissa – it
was a funny and odd they were both 20 years younger than us but we liked them immensely and ended up spending a lot of time
together, even if, as old farts, Ben and I cut out at 10:30 on any given
night. They forgave us that one indulgence and the friendship blossomed
.

We had called and called the number we got from Mr. Hunk-
a
doo and straight to voicemail it went. This had been going on for two and a half days. Drew was dead. Jesse was in jail and Bev was missing. This was getting weird
.

Ben was determined to find her, Jesse’s mom. Mostly I think
cause he didn’t want to spend any more money depositing commissary
.
And because he loved a good mystery, loved figuring things out.

When Jesse got arrested the first time, you would have thought Ben was on the police squad the amount of time he spent researching the case. I swear he missed his calling
.
Apparently you can do a case court search and look up background information on anyone. It’s how we kept tabs on what was happening at Ben’s ex-wife’s house and which loser, I mean, boyfriend she was dating at the time. Some guys waste their time on the net playing games or gambling, not my husband, nope, he searches arrest records and court transactions and the property appraiser’s site. For hours
.

It was how he had found out that Taylor’s mom wasn’t the nicest mom on the block. Jesse and Taylor were on-again, off-again boyfriend and girlfriend. When Jesse got in trouble the first time they were off-again
.
Drew was ready to point the finger at anyone who had “corrupted” his boy. Naturally, his anger turned towards bad-news Taylor, wannabe hussy in training pants. Drew mentioned it to Ben, Ben took the bait and did some digging. Seems Taylor’s mom has quite the tainted history, armed burglary, check forgery, various drug and dui’s. A regular walking talking train wreck with four kids. Lordy loo. Another mother of the year. After Ben had turned over Taylor’s mom’s bio to Drew, things got bad between Jesse and Drew because as soon as her boyfriend was in jail, all of sudden they were on-again. It had been the biggest bone of contention between them, well, that, and the pot growing in the back yard. After that, we all kept tabs on Taylor’s mom and her beat up green SUV. It was odd, she made stops at all the local
teen houses, otstensibly to drop off and/or pick up Taylor but somehow it was always Taylor’s mom doing the talking. Ben suspected she was a drug dealer herself. Drew was convinced that it was Taylor’s mom who told Jesse to deal and grow pot. For a long time, a month anyway, he banned them from the house but if you’ve done any time in a house with a sulking teen, you know how easy it is to cave. And he caved. Taylor was allowed over with supervision.

“Plus, I found
a home address.” “WHAT? Really!”

“Yeah, I did the reverse phone look up on Bev’s number, I’m going to swing by there on my way home tonight- it is only about three miles from the house.”

“Honey, don’t you think you should call Officer Krumpke, I
mean, Nunez with this stuff.”

“I will, I will, I just want to see for myself what’s what.”

“Allright baby, I have to run.” “Love you”

“Love you more.” We ended each conversation the same way. It wasn’t that Ben
Stanis (short or Americanized from Stanislov) was the perfect man, but I regularly called him “the Best Husband on the
Planet.” In reality, I’m married to a thrifty 46 year old car salesman who
is Russian, which means he’s foreign-born, quick to anger, conservative beyond belief, he’s obsessed with playing pool (2 nights a week now), has indulgent parenting skills, is neglectful of his extended family and tends to offend people when he walks into the room and says “the king is here” (he really does this). He smokes too much, likes his vodka and wants to eat and sleep on his days off. Oh and doesn’t take out the garbage. So why am I continually in a state of bliss with him? Because I have the best husband on the planet. From my end of it, I have a husband who will walk to the ends of the earth for his family, pays 75% of the bills, works until his knees drop, treats me like a queen, has the
heart of a lion and angel. He’s the strongest man I’ve ever met. He respects me completely, is entirely committed to fidelity, and weeps and laughs at the drop of a hat— he takes care of all “house” related things (eventually) and on some days runs the entire little kingdom. He regularly compliments me, tells me I’m the best wife on the planet, is so appreciate of everything I do it can get sickening at times, one year he bought me a car, the next replaced our roof and got me new appliances. I’ve never been happier in any relationship. How do you take a flawed (and real) man and turn him into the best husband on the planet? it is simple. You let him be the man he is, you compliment him, feed him,
take care of girly things and let him take care of manly things. It’s a bit of a knock-off from the 50s housewife thing, but dang, I look good in heels vaccuming the floor (not that  really do that, but it IS a bit of a fantasy of mine). I’d love to stay home and cook and clean all day
.
it is funny, I grew up an ardent feminist and now my sole ambition is to be the good stay at home wifey-woo. Go figure.

Plus there is the whole intercultural thing. Ben’s been in America for about 20 years and has almost completely lost his accent and like many immigrants, loves everything American.
it is funny so many conservative talk shows berate immigrants as “taking” from Americans: jobs, money, resources but I’ve never seen a more pro-American group than my in-laws. They love America. Beer, baseball, hotdogs, voting, scandals. You’ve never seen a bigger fan of American Idol than my hard hitting Russian husband. I’ve literally seen him weep over a good patriotic ballad. But it is also what makes him distrustful of cops. Where he comes from all cops, all officials are corrupt. He can’t get it through his skull that you can’t simply buy your way through the legal system. Which is why he is always so gung ho to conduct his own investigation.

I
t is fun to watch him get jazzed up and play amateur sleuth - I guess that makes me his goofy sidekick.

It would have been almost fun except for the fact that we knew the players and it all just made it sad. Poor Jesse, three days in jail, remanded to the state until they can “find” his mom. Drew’s memorial
service was scheduled for Saturday and they weren’t even sure if Jesse would be able to come.

We had talked to Jess twice so far this week and he definitely seemed worse after the second time when we had to tell him we couldn’t get a hold of his
mom, that it seemed she was missing. He was stuck in some bad limbo land. And had even said: “I don’t think I can make it in here, ” in a very small boy kind of voice.

“Liz, I
can’t find my Ipod.” Julie burst in slamming her bag down on the dining room table. Yaz was trailing behind her rolling her eyes at the antics of her sister.

“How are you Julie,
Yaz, how was your day?” Gritting my teeth at the obnoxiousness that is Ms. Jules.

“Did you NOT hear
me, I can’t find my Ipod!”

“Did you leave it in your jeans?
The jeans that you washed the other night?” I knew the answer to this since I found the Ipod, washed, the next day in the washing machine. Rather than yell at her for ruining it, I chose to do what all evil, I mean, good stepmoms do, simply wait for her to notice. And as I asked her I pulled it out of the junk drawer and handed it to her. This was the second IPOD she ruined, this time, at least, it was her mom who had bought it for her, even after we asked her not to saying that Julie was clearly not responsible to have one. Serves her right.

“Oh crap, crap, crap, crap”

“You don’t use that language in this house.” She knew better. “I’ll use whatever language I want” as she stormed off
dramatically. I felt my temperature rise and needed to calm down. I looked down at my dog, my sweet dachshund who looked up at me with anticipation, was I going to yell?, or drop some food down for him? Was it time for a walk? I could see all these thoughts race across his face. Deciding to reward the only good kid in the room I walked up to Yaz, took her in my arms.

“Honey, sorry about that, your sister gets a little angry. You know we don’t use bad words in this house, right?”

“I know. I don’t use that kind of words,” my little one said. Or semi-little one.

“That’s right,
cause you are a good kid.” Implying that Julie was bad. Probably not the best psychological remnant to say about her own sister but at that point I was done caring.

I figured starting dinner was my best bet and being the good kid she was
Yaz helped me. She was so sweet, it is like she carried the
burden of her bad older sister and needed to work it off. Like penance. I almost felt guilty for how much I enjoyed little Yaz cause I certainly didn’t enjoy Jules.

After a bit, I heard the garage door and Bear, our dog, barked meaning that Ben was home.
Finally. I spritzed myself and ran to meet him at the door, hiding, as usual, just off to the side. It was a little game we played every day. He’d come sneaking in and say “where’s mama?” and our dog usually pointed out where I was. I jumped out and hugged
him.

“Hey baby, welcome home. Did you find her? Bev? Did you go by there” I asked excitedly.

“Oh no, I’m telling you right away, cause the plot thickens as we speak,” he said ominously, teasing me. I ran after him and tickled him on his side: “What does that mean, TELL ME!”

“Nope, not until I have my beer and have a cigarette.” He said teasingly back. I ran to get him a beer and brought it to him. He dramatically took his time getting settled into the front porch with this cigarette, taking it out slowly, lighting it slowly, and I was bouncing up and down on the second chair.

“Come on, come on, Come on!”

“Well, as you know, I looked up Bev’s address on the computer. I stopped by there but she wasn’t there. But guess who was?”

I was ready to jump out of my chair, “who???” “Pam.”

“Pam?”

“Red-haired Pam that Drew was dating.” “What, why was she at Bev’s?”

“Turns out she owns the house and was renting the mother in law
suite out back to Bev.”

“What?? They KNOW each other?”

“Apparently so, doesn’t that seem extra weird, that they EACH were involved with Drew?” He was puffing dramatically on his cigarette clearly enjoying the gossip of it all.

“I can’t believe that. If Pam knows Bev why would she be involved with Drew?”

“Pam brushed off the whole Bev thing, said she hadn’t seen her, I guess they didn’t get along- so maybe they didn’t know each knew Drew or maybe they did and didn’t care. But she spent most the time talking about Drew. She was pretty broken up. She had a bunch of info on the memorial service, I guess she’s arranging it.”

“That seems
weird, they only knew each other for a short time. They were dating what, 2 months?”

“Yeah, I guess it does seem weird.” He added. We both paused to dissect this particularly strange turn in the story.

I guess it was time to turn to less interesting things. “Honey, Julie swore at me, well didn’t swear but said crap, repeatedly.” I almost hated to bring it up considering that he seemed in a good mood and I hated to ruin it because of some teen antics. BUT she was his daughter and he needed to go sort her out. Luckily after a particularly nasty fight
last spring where I stormed off in my car to get away from Julie’s nastiness I had pretty much disengaged. Which is a fancy word for stopped giving a shit. I ended up in a car crash that night, because I was upset. I could have hurt myself, my dog, the other people in the car, all because some teen snot nose didn’t want to visit my parents for the night. I had stormed off, determined to go to my parents without them all, I was crying and shaking and rear-ended an off-duty cop who was quite upset and who got more upset with my upsettedness. It turned into a ridiculously awful night because I let her get to me. It was then I realized that it was her or my marriage. I chose my marriage. Since that night, I let Ben take the lead on any confrontation with Jules. It makes things easier for me, and keeps our, mine and Jules’ interactions to a minimum. She gets what she wants, Daddy’s attention, I get what I want, a peaceful marriage. It’s a weird, stand-offish win-win but it
works.