Page 56 of See Her

“Are you joking?” asks my mother. “Mayzie, you’re joking right? Is this like that time you lost that bet with Ian? Is that what’s happening again here?” She’s back to laughing nervously.She’s referring to the time back in high school when I’d just started trying thongs and was complaining a lot when my brother told me to suck it up. I bet him he couldn’t go a day wearing women’s underwear.He decided he needed to prove me wrong and stole one of his girlfriend’s thongs and wore it to school. It was quite elaborate. I had a few of his buddies from the football team check in on him and report back to me that he was still wearing it throughout the day.Lo and behold, the bastard actually went the distance and I lost.The stakes were that I had to crank call our mother, pretending to be an online sex toy retailer, confirming her daughter’s (aka, my) order for the Shaft-tastic Vibe 2.0 with free deluxe set of anal beads. Anyway, back to the moment.

“Right?” my mother prods, trying to get me to confirm this is a joke.

“This is so not like that,” I answer.I’ll tell you later, I mouth to Jack when his face gets inquisitive over the word ‘bet.’

“No, come on. Ian’s the one who moves in with somebody after knowing them for three months,” my mother says, trying to lead the conversation down a logical path.

“And look how well that worked out for him!” my dad adds.

“Very funny, Mayzie. Good one.”

“I’m not joking, Mom. It really happened. Yesterday.” There’s an unsettling stretch of silence on the other end, and I’m staring at my phone now like it’s the Oracle.

“You’re serious?” she asks, her voice sounding like she swallowed a brick.

“Yes,” I say, getting assertive.The next few seconds tick by in more silence before it’s finally broken by the siren sound of my mother losing her shit.

“MAYZIE LEEANN WALKER!”

“Ooh,” I say, recoiling from the phone just a little.

“Have you lost your mind?!” she continues.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!” my dad echoes.

I feel Jack’s arms come around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder, giving me silent support; letting me know he’s in this with me.

“Mom, I’m kind of past the point in life where middle naming me has any real effect. Also, you got my last name wrong. It’s not Walker anymore.”

“I can’t believe this shit,” my dad fumes, and I can picture him rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “We don’t even know her last name!”

“Mayzie, why would you rush into this?” my mother asks, her voice still high pitched and exasperated.She’s passed outrage and has reached her ‘at a loss’ point.

“Did he knock you up?!” My dad’s outburst makes me wince. Holy Toledo.

“No,Dad! Look, would you both calm down? If you chill out, we can explain this, and then I’m sure you guys will feel a lot better about everything.”

“Hey, Mom! Dad!” The sound of my brother entering the scene, followed by the slamming of my parents’ front door, interrupts us.Great. “Guess what your daughter did?” I hear him shouting in the background.

“Oooh, look at you,” my dad addresses him sarcastically. “Tattling on your sister like a big man. You’re too late, idiot. We’re already talking to her.”

“What? Are you kidding me?” my brother protests, thrown off his game. He tries to recover. “Aw, Mayzie, telling our parents over the phone? What’s wrong with you?”

Oh, for crying out loud. Listen to him, tattling and sucking up…but I can beat him at this whole immaturity game. When it comes to my stupid-head, jerk-face brother, I’m the effing queen of immaturity.

“Hey, Mom and Dad?” I start in. “Ian’s at your house because he’s tired of living with Tina and wants to stay with you guys.”

“Oh, gee. Really? Huge shocker there!” my father yells sarcastically, and I can practically see him turning on Ian, who’s now tongue tied.

“Uh… well…” Ha. Look who doesn’t have anything to say now.

“Ian, really!” my mother scolds.

“Okay, well, you guys have fun with that,” I say, preparing my exit from the conversation. “I’ll give you guys a call tomorrow, okay bye-eee!” I click END, and blow out a breath, dropping down to rest my forehead on the cool countertop.

“I think that went well,” Jack says, resuming his casual pose, leaning against the counter.

“See what you married into?” I ask, my face buried in my folded arms.

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