Page 2 of Give Me Perfect Love

“What’s that one about?” I ask.

“It’s about a beautiful girl who falls in love with a prince.”

“A prince?” I ask excitedly.

“Yes, a prince.” She lifts her brows. “But she has one problem.”

“What’s that?” I question, eager to know.

“She has an evil stepmother and mean stepsisters. You see, they don’t want her to be happy.”

“Why?” I ask as she loops my string and pulls tight.

“Because they’re jealous of her beauty.” Her hair falls loosely around her heart-shaped face, and tiny creases line her gray eyes. Mama is always daydreaming; sometimes I wonder which one of us is the child.

I hear footsteps on the front porch and the dreamer’s whole mood shifts, but she always does that when he’s around.

He’s not nice. I wish she’d take us away from him.

She puts my little white shoes down. “Go to your room.” I do as she asks, but I leave the door cracked.

“The fuck you think you’re going?” I hear him say. Cigarette smoke can be smelled from here and I picture the cigarette between his nicotine-stained fingers.

“I’m taking our daughter to see a movie.”

“Yourdaughter,” he throws back.

“Why do you always say that?” Her tone is filled with bitterness.

I close my eyes and mindlessly pick the pink fingernail polish she painted on my nails last week.

“Don’t pretend like you weren’t still seeing that sorry piece of shit when we started dating.” The monster who lives with us likes to remind both my mom and me that I’m not his.

Like we don’t know.

Like we aren’t glad.

He’s been around since I was born, so he’s all I know, but I hate him.

“You wish you were half the man he was,” she fires back. I hear a slap, and then something crashes to the floor. My eyes pop open, and my heart rate accelerates, causing me to jump up and run in there.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He looks to me. “Get back in your room, you annoying little shit.”

“Don’t hit my mama!” I say, trying to sound brave, but the shake in my legs betrays me and he sees it.

He laughs and walks over to me, bending a knee so he’s at my eye level. He runs his finger down the side of my face and trembles of terror chase each other to the ends of my toes. “You’ll be a big girl one day,” he says. “That’s the only reason you’re still here. Eventually, you’ll be useful, but right now, I can’t stand the sight of you.”

“Go back in your room, Kathrine,” Mama says as she lifts herself from the floor. Tears fill her eyes, and I already see her face turning a shade of purple. Red-hot anger percolates in my veins, but terror at the way he’s looking at me wins and I spin so fast I almost trip over my feet.

I run back to my room and shut the door before sliding my dresser in front of it. My chest expands rapidly, and I shut my eyes and try to control my breathing.

I’m not sure if he said anything else before the front door slammed shut because my ears are ringing and I’m shaking. I don’t know what he meant by I’ll be of some use when I get older, but I know it can’t be good.

I wrap my arms around my bent knees and count. Mama says counting slows our heart rhythm. If we just focus on one thing, it’ll calm us down, and right now my heart could use some slowing.

I look toward my sun-splintered blinds, and on shaky legs I stand up and crawl over my iron bed. Peeking through the small cracks, I see the man we could do without as he tilts up a bottle of amber liquor.

Flakes of snow fall around him as he puffs his cigarette and then flicks it away. Smoke blows from mean and nasty’s nose as he hops into the car.

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