Margarette (Violet) (16 page)

“Sorry, Tommy,” Margarette says with a coy smile.
“I didn’t mean to kick you.”

“It’s okay.”

“Tommy, what do you think of us?”

“I think you’re beautiful and I’m the luckiest guy
in the world.”

Margarette doesn’t think that really answers the
question but smiles at him anyway. She lets the sucker slide into her cheek and
she softly bites the corner of her lower lip. When she looks up at him, he’s
watching her with eyes clouded with desire.

The curtain covers most of their private game. Her
hand at his thigh moves to his crotch. She really doesn’t mind teasing him. It
is like the game, kind of fun, but not really fun. Fiddling with Tommy isn’t
much of a challenge. He kisses her and grabs her chest. The arcade music thumps
and they can hear people walk past.

“You taste like bubblegum,” he says as he kisses
her and their lips part. He squeezes her breasts like kneading bread.

After a few more minutes, or possibly only
seconds, he pulls her out of there takes her home. She dresses up in a school
outfit with her old reading glasses. That’s when she realizes she needs
glasses.

Tommy takes several Polaroid pictures of her in
her outfit, and she even lets him take a couple with just her underwear on. After
sex she watches him fall asleep petting his hair. Margarette holds him and he
unconsciously sucks his thumb after falling asleep. She will later regret not
stealing the pictures as he slept.

Margarette’s life has become a rollercoaster of shitty
days and wonderful sex. Tommy tries his best to please her, but he doesn’t always
get her to orgasm from sheer penetration. He’s not bad, though, and often makes
her come with his tongue. He has great rhythm and pace.
Don’t start
something you wouldn’t finish
, Tommy usually says, although it is obvious,
out of context, that his father said it to him first.

He never seems to start to do anything that later
he would need to complete. At his core, Tommy is afraid of not finishing.
Margarette knows he wouldn’t try to change. It is not like she wants to really
change him, but he isn’t going out of his way to do anything.

He isn’t great at keeping his family at bay,
either. He never calls them, so they constantly call looking for him. It
becomes something she has to be ready for. During work, his father calls twice
a day looking for him. Tommy knows when to skip the calls just often enough to
keep his father confused. He could pretend he was out running an errand for the
bank, but in truth Mr. Gallager never expects his son to do any real work
during the day.

Tommy’s mother makes an appearance at the bank
every Thursday. During one such visit on Margarette’s fourth week at work,
Tommy is not in and she ends up harassing Margarette. Between lines chock full
of double meaning she lets slip that she was the real reason Tommy was forced
to move out of the Gallager house and into the small blue one. The revelation is
delivered in veiled snide comments as it is her trademark, lying through her
teeth.
It’s what he needed… So many expectations for him… What’s best for everyone…
We are so excited for you both
….

After she leaves, Margarette considers that this
is what is in store for her for the rest of her life, or until the end of Mrs.
Gallager’s life, whichever comes first.

She mutters to herself. “Lord forbid….”

She is so sick and tired of her life. She has been
pregnant for eight weeks—she is ten weeks pregnant according to Dr. Johnny—and
she feels completely detached from the innocent baby growing inside her. She is
detached from life itself. It makes her nervous, like she’s going to be a
terrible mother. Dr. Johnny has told her that it’s not uncommon for young new
mothers to feel that way and reassures her that she will feel different at her
twelve weeks appointment. He will perform an ultrasound then, and she will be
able to see her baby move. After Mrs. Gallager’s visit Margarette doesn’t know
whether to feel more excited or more forlorn about the appointment.

It has become painful to think about her life. Her
belly has started to bloat and she has cramps at nights. She stays up late,
unable to sleep, and zones out at work, tired all the time. Her body reminds
her that she is pregnant, when all she would like to do is forget. Pretend that
she is not….

She thinks about how life would be if she wasn’t
pregnant. She would definitely not be associated with Tommy and his family. She
imagines a guy like Simon from the book. He would be exactly as the book
described… perfect, enduring and flawless.

“Simon,” Margarette whispers his name during a
particularly lengthy daydream, and the person next to her jumps. She realizes
she’s in the break room at work. She blinks and she’s home with Tommy on top of
her. She fights to not say Simon again and tries to focus.

Her feelings for the fictitious character have
developed into an almost physical yearning. She thinks about him for hours.
What her life would be like if he existed and he saved her from this life, and they
escaped together. She already knows what their house would look like and what
city it would be in. In the margins of her work papers she draws his face. She
can draw it without thinking, and it makes her smile when she works out another
detail of their imaginary relationship. She isn’t sleeping much and her
imagination takes over because her life isn’t enough—her future is underwhelming.

One day at the office, after a particularly vivid
daydream, Margarette abuses her account managing privileges. She has been at
the job for four weeks and knows her way around the computers. The new owners
brought a modem out and connected the computers to the large bank’s network. Everyone
is expected to learn how to use the computers, but they have taken their time
learning. Margarette doesn’t mind showing her coworkers how. She does that now,
gaining some approvals from the ladies.

When the ladies go out for the four o’clock smoke
break, Margarette prints off a few dozen pages of account owners. Specifically
those connected to the author of her favorite book.

***

The Gallager mansion looks amazing on a summer day,
Margarette has to admit, despite her views of the people inside. Unfortunately
May is there next to her.

“It must be easy for you,” May says, reminding Margarette
why she hates the older girl. She is always sweet and cute before she bites.
“You’re pretty.”

“I’m not and it hasn’t,” Margarette says.

“You’re probably right.”

Margarette mumbles, “Fricking bitch.”

May showed up a little while ago channeling Audrey
Hepburn in a summer dress, and a short new haircut. Her dark brown hair is cut
in a perfect bob that makes her look like a Romulan woman from Star Trek.
Margarette has to talk to May and her husband for five boring minutes.

It’s Saturday afternoon and Margarette is far too
uncomfortable in her soft white dress and high heels. At least the dress is
tight under the bust and loose around her waist, which suits her expanding
belly just fine. Margarette is finally excited for her appointment in two days,
when she will get her first glimpse at the little thing inside her. But before
she does, she first has to survive another awful party at the Gallagers’.

After a while Margarette gets the hang of the fake
smile and fancy dress, so she doesn’t mind trying it out on unsuspecting
victims. She looks beautiful, perfectly fitting Tommy’s birthday party. Tommy
already paraded her in front of his friends and relatives and they all
congratulated him. He is having a good time and so was she, with an arm looped
through his, until she had to excuse herself. Her belly was bothering her. Now
she sits by the refreshments table with a napkin on her lap and politely
listens to everyone around her.

May’s voice drifts from afar, “Well, it’s too bad
she’s so pretty. You know those people have it so rough. Oh, and the poverty. I
can imagine how difficult that could be….” Margarette struggles to hear over
the din. A laugh. And then she hears, “Trash does not compete with class.”

Margarette turns her head in Tommy’s direction,
fully intending to run to him despite the increasing cramps, but she hears him
say, “… She really twists my dick…” from across the room. She fights not to say
anything now since she didn’t hear the whole thing, and it may have sounded
worse out of context, but she commits it to memory.

Her nightmare continues as she shakes her head and
shuts her eyes. Her stomach is tight like a wet knot and she wants to go home.
She smiles when she thinks about reading her book all alone at home in her
comfortable chair. Not Tommy’s illegitimate home away from home, or her mother’s,
but her fantasy home with Simon.

Ding ding ding
.

Three dings on a crystal glass; just before the
cake is served May stands up smiling.

“We have some news and I couldn’t think of a
better present for Tommy,” May announces. “I’m pregnant! You’re going to be an
uncle!” There’s a rush of congratulatory voices.

Poor Tommy mutters congratulations but later sits in
the corner as May steals everyone’s attention with her baby news. She had
planned this; Margarette knows this was planned.
Damn Gallagers; it’s in
their veins
. Tommy would have loved to hear about his sister on any other
day; but today,
his
day, is now
her
day.

Margarette gets caught squinting at May from afar
and stands to serve herself punch from a silver bowl. She wants to punch May
more now than before, she thinks, as she vaguely wonders at what point Kool-Aid
becomes punch. She looks around as if she would find some serving container
size chart that explains the difference.
You put it in a spout and it’s one;
serve it in a silver bowl with a big spoon and it’s the other
.

A random old lady approaches Margarette at the punch
bowl interrupting her rambling thoughts.

“Oh, this is great,” says the old lady.

Margarette dons her newly-mastered fake smile. “It’s
tropical,” she says.

The woman almost sneers with a downward glance at
the bowl.

She’s now stuck on the tropical punch dilemma or
going back to hating May. Then a sharp pain pierces through her abdomen and the
room wiggles.
Someone put something in the punch
, is her first thought.
Or
Kool-Aid, whatever you call it
.

She loses her balance and steps back from the
table to put a hand against a wall. Then with the pain gripping her, she feels
something warm and liquid between her thighs and looks around for a bathroom
thinking a stain on her white dress would be too much red to hide. She stumbles
back to her chair, but before she can reach it she goes to both knees and
something blurs, then she’s on the floor. The world goes quiet for Margarette
even though a woman shrieks and calls out for help.

Red pain shoots through her belly and her vision fills
with blood. But it isn’t really her blood.

***

Tommy brings over red roses with a card full of
lines that probably mean nice things but she doesn’t care to read.

Roses can prick and you bleed
.

Roses must be handled carefully indeed
.

Margarette was rushed to the hospital but it was
too late. The baby wasn’t ready for life at ten weeks and chose to make room
for a chance at another child later on. Margarette’s mother said, “The Lord
fulfills only promises that are earned.” Margarette didn’t know what that
meant, but it sounded hurtful at the time.

Margarette’s mother told everyone at church on
Sunday and they all pitied her for her lost grandchild. Apparently all of her
church friends were experts on the ways of the Lord and his plans for the lost
girl that had sinned. Margarette’s mother came to the hospital fresh full of
Bible lines. Now all Margarette can get from her were verses, versus original
thoughts.

Her only comfort is that she probably took the
attention off May for a bit at the party. To Margarette’s surprise, no one knew
about the child. She only told her mother, her cousin and the Gallagers. But
they all know now.

There is a funeral with only five people present:
Margarette, Tommy, his parents and the doctor. The doctor doesn’t stay long. Mrs.
Gallager sits next to Tommy with her arm draped possessively around his
shoulders, as if claiming back what was hers. At some point she leads Tommy out
of the room with offers of warm drinks, all motherly and nourishing. Tommy at
least has the decency to ask Margarette if she would like something to drink,
which she stoically refuses. She wants nothing from Mrs. Gallager.

The minute they leave, Mr. Gallager approaches Margarette
and takes her hand. In a kind and sympathetic voice he suggests that maybe now she
can move on. It sounds like he’s trying to console her but it comes out cruel. Margarette
almost hears Mrs. Gallager’s voice coming out of his mouth, her words repeated
in one fragment of his speech. He goes on to say that she and Tommy are far too
young to have to carry the arduous responsibility of raising a child and this may
be a blessing in disguise. That Tommy is too juvenile to fully understand the
way the world works. But he insists that a beautiful girl like her would never
have a want for admirers—and immediately after tells her that she can keep her
job at the bank as his personal assistant, that he would miss her if she left.

Throughout his discourse, his hand on Margarette’s
felt warmer and warmer. At the end she feels the softest pressure on her hand,
so faint that she isn’t sure it wasn’t her imagination. She removes her hand
from under his and stands up, slightly repulsed, but keeping a straight face. She
thanks him for the service in an effort to not sound ungrateful.

He stands up and hugs her for a little too long
for her taste. She pulls away and leaves without another word. She can’t
stomach another minute with the Gallagers, not even Tommy. Margarette is
determined to leave them in her past even if she has to break Tommy’s heart.
She won’t even go back to his house. Except—

She finds the nearest phone and dials her one
remaining friend and accomplice, her cousin.

“Kristen? It’s me, Margarette. I need you to steal
your dad’s car and pick me up.”