Page 27 of Maid in America

Charlotte slapped Anthony’s head and leaned back in the booth. “And that’s why you’re a fucking idiot. You don’t accept responsibility. Hold yourself accountable. Be a man, Anthony.”

“She’s right,” Barrett said.

Anthony shot him a glare and pushed up on the table. “Look, I’m dealing with enough. I don’t need more shit fromyoutwo.”

Jerking the fabric of his hoodie, Charlotte held Anthony in place. “Sit your scrawny ass down. We’re not done.”

Anthony pulled the fabric out of his sister’s hand and sat, crossing his arms. “I kissed someone! Big-fuckin-woop. Linda’s acting like I knocked the bitch up. It was one stupid kiss!”

“Where’s Linda? You want me to talk to her?” Barrett asked.

“She’s still down in El Paso! Said she’s having a lawyer draw up papers as we speak.”

“Maybe she’s bluffing.” Barrett shrugged.

“She’s gone, Barrett. Won’t answer my calls, my texts, nothing. I found out about the papers because she texted myMom.”

Barrett winced. It was worse than he thought. “What are you gonna do about the kids?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know.”

“You seemed happy the other day, man. What happened toParty Anthony?”

“Party Anthonyis who got me in deep shit, to begin with,” he mumbled, picking at a chip in the table’s laminate top.

Charlotte leaned toward Barrett, jerking her thumb toward her brother. “Now, instead of doing the legwork to smooth things over with Linda, he thinks he’s suddenly got the license to be Hugh Hefner.”

“What do you mean?” Barrett asked, trying to curb the grin plucking at the edge of his lips at the thought of Anthony in a satin robe with a babe on each arm.

Anthony straightened his posture, his voice angry. “Hey, if she wants to leave and take my kids all the way to fucking Texas, I figure I have every right to make the most of it.”

“Oh no,” Barrett mumbled.

“Yup!” Charlotte chimed in, slapping her brother so hard on the back his body jostled. “My brother’s been fucking every willing wet hole in Jackson with a pulse.” She laughed. “Moron already caught crabs.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Anthony growled, collapsing into himself again. “You gonna tell everyone in town all my business? Jesus, Char, why don’t we take out a fucking billboard?”

“They’re pricey. You’re lucky my girlfriend has expensive taste, or I’d have already nabbed one of those fuckers. Plastered your face right on the sumbitch,” she teased.

Anthony shook his head. “We’reseparated. I’m allowed to do what I want!”

“Doessheknow you’re separated?” Charlotte asked.

“Well, if she’d fuckingtalkto me, she would.” Anthony looked at Barrett, seeking sympathy. “Come on. Of all people,youknow how nice it is. Late nights. Beautiful women. Booze. Dancing. Loud music.Freedom. Real fucking freedom. Not sitting athome, listening to the old ball-and-chain bitch about her mother for the umpteenth time, or having her nag me for not helping around the house. No telling me to go jerk off because she has some kind of perpetual headache.”

He leaned back and continued, “It’s my time. If I wanna eat fried chicken for every meal, nobody is going to tell me not to. Watch porn in the living room? Who’s gonna stop me? I married Linda straight outta high school. I never got to live your life, Barrett. See, you had it right all along. You’re too smart for that shit. You never shackled yourself to a mortgage and marriage. You’re out there just bein’ free. Relationships are a fucking trap. You saw it, but I couldn’t. You always knew to cut that shit loose before it got too serious.”

Barrett leaned forward. “So if this isthe life, why do you look so fucking miserable?”

“I dunno.” Anthony’s lip quivered.

“I’ll tell you why, Anthony. Because the grassisn’tgreener on this side of the fence, motherfucker. It’s a pavedparking lotover here. You wanna live like me? You wanna be a playboy? Fine. Cut your hair. Shave your damn face. Work on that doughy-ass body.”

The waitress arrived with their plates. In front of Charlotte, she set down a bowl of oatmeal and fresh fruit and a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Barrett. She set a plate of French toast in front of Anthony, whose face temporarily lifted in a smile before falling back to its sullen stare.

“Thanks.” Barrett nodded to the waitress before swapping his plate with Anthony.

Reaching for it back, Barrett blocked Anthony’s hands.

---