K. Randis - Spilled Milk

“Are you kidding me? I love that house, it’s my dream house. I just lost everything and now you want to talk about me selling the only thing I have left?”

Her defensiveness alarmed me. “No, Mom. You didn’t lose everything. You still have your kids. And it’ll be hard for us to heal in a place where all we think about is him still being there. That’s all.” I meant to sound optimistic, like moving into a new house would be a fresh start for everyone, even Mom.

“He won’t be there Brooke, he’s gone. Who cares that he lived there, we can live there just as happy.” She lit a cigarette and puffed on the end of it.

“Who cares? ” My voice was the one rising now. “Did you really just say that to me? I care! How about I care that in every room of that house all I’ll get to think about is how I was brutally raped or how I had to stand between him and one of my brothers so he didn’t kill them.”

“No one asked you to do that!”

“They didn’t have to,” I bellowed back, “That’s just what you do when you love someone.”

“OH! So now I don’t love my own kids? This is my fault then?”

I threw up my hands. Arguing with her was like talking to a wall.

“It’s always my fault huh? I’m the one to blame for this huh, all right. All right.”

She threw her butt out the window and turned the wipers on to fight the rain that started to pour from the sky.

“I don’t see how you can choose a house over your kids, Mom. You love the house, so what. It’s a stupid house. You can always replace that. You can’t fake happiness, I’ll never feel safe there. Ever.”

“Then you can leave, I’m not selling my house, not for you, not for anyone.”

“FINE!”

The argument had overwhelmed me. I couldn’t believe that she wouldn’t even be open to the idea of moving. It was a suggestion, not a demand. She didn’t want to hear about how I felt, or how uncomfortable it would be to live there pretending nothing happened.

I understood she loved the house; it was massive compared to the one we lived in on Long Island. But who would even want to live in a house where your own children were victimized? To me it wouldn’t be just starting over again, it would be like a constant reminder.

That weekend Aunt Nikki flew in and stayed the weekend at the house. Mom asked me to watch the kids while her and Aunt Nikki ran some errands. A few hours later, they stuffed themselves through the front door with bags of things. “Ohhh what’s that Mom?” Kat asked, eyeing the comforter set.

Mom and Aunt Nikki dragged the bags upstairs and by the time they were done Kat and I had new comforters, sheets and pillows. The curtains were changed and a throw rug covered the floor. A wall clock and posters were secured to the walls and a lamp was fixed into one corner of the room.

Without a doubt Aunt Nikki had paid for everything. Mom must have told her about our argument. She stood next to me after Mom walked out and patted me on the shoulder. “Brand new everything, okay hun? No reason to worry, we bought all new locks for the doors too. He’s not coming back. Hope you like your room, your new room.” She squeezed my hand.

It was going to take more than a few new sheets and a throw rug to mask the memories in this room. Mom just didn’t get it. I walked past her bedroom and peered inside. She still had all the same bedroom things. How could she sleep in there knowing what happened?

I tried to look forward to going back to school but I still didn’t figure out how I was going to face everyone. I finally got a parking pass earlier that year and was thankful I didn’t have to ride the bus. I parked as far away as I could and watched everyone file into the school.

Paul got out of a red Saturn halfway across the parking lot. Out of the driver’s side stepped a beefy blonde girl named Lea. She was okay looking, but her personality was vile. She chewed tobacco and made it a point to sleep with everyone on the guy’s soccer team. If sex is what Paul wanted, he was certainly going to get it from her. I dabbed on some chap stick and took a deep breath.

“BROOKE! Oh my gosh!” Cristin flung her arms around my neck and circled around me. “Are you okay? What happened to…”

My feet left the ground as Judd charged at me from across the hallway and scooped me into his death grip. “Judd…Brooke can’t breathe!” I tapped his shoulder and laughed at his warm welcome.

“There is nothing funny about you disappearing. Nothing.” He set me down and his eyes burned into mine.

“Judd, I’m sorry, I-”

“Brooke ghostly Nolan, can it be true?” Sonia flashed me a quick smile before wrapping her arms around me. “We were so worried, you okay?”

I managed to shake my head. I didn’t know who to talk to first.

“Get to class! Let’s go, two minutes till the bell!” A hall monitor swept through the corridor.

Judd grabbed my hand. “I’ll walk you to class.”

“But your class is on the other side of-”

“I don’t care. Come on.”

He steered me through the hallway and I listened to him tell me how worried he was and how he couldn’t believe I wouldn’t return one message.

“I mean, is it true, what your dad did?”

I flung him by the arm and faced him. “Who told you my dad did anything?”

Judd’s eyes widened. “Listen if it’s just a rumor it’s okay. People were just worried.”

“Judd, TALK!” My grip tightened on his upper arm.

“Wow okay easy muscles.” He moved my hand down. “Some of the cheerleader girls were saying stuff. Some of their mom’s work in the front office, they said they got some paper saying that if he showed up to the school they had to call the police.”

Oh my God.

“They only told a few people. I mean I don’t know who knows anything. You still haven’t told me what’s going on?”

A silvery voice from behind me made my heart skip. “Well, I see you’ve settled in easy enough.”

Paul was standing feet from my face when I turned around. I followed his gaze to my hand, which was still interlocked with Judd’s arm in my attempt to make him talk.

Paul nodded. “Right. See you later.” He turned and started down the hallway.

“Wait, Paul!” I let go of Judd’s arm.

“Judd I’m sorry, we’ll talk at lunch okay?” I called over my shoulder. Paul quickened his pace. “Paul, will you wait?”

“Why? You obviously didn’t.” He blew through a group of girls.

“I’m sorry, can you just wait?” I called after him. “Paul. Wait.” I reached out for his arm and he stopped, pulling his arm away.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch me again.”

“Paul, please, what did I do that made you so-”

“You’re disgusting. I bet everything that everyone is saying is true, and I had to hear about it through half the cheerleaders. I had no idea, I mean I thought things happened when you were little not…” He ran his fingers through his hair and shifted his eyes. “I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole. Don’t ever talk to me again.”

I watched, open mouthed, as he disappeared into the sea of people around us.

In homeroom I buried my face in my arms and tried to control the tears that were brimming around my eyes. I didn’t call out with the teacher called my name for roll, and I didn’t look up when she asked us to take out our books. Paul’s voice echoed in my head all morning. You’re disgusting. I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.

My stomach was uneasy as I tried to avoid contact with everyone all day. I skipped lunch and found a quiet spot under the bleachers in the gym. I moved through the motions just to keep up an appearance.