Liam grabbed my chin, that’s how mad he was. Mad enough to break Mama’s rule against touching me. He jerked my head around, to keep me from looking at Kellen, so I closed my eyes. I bit my lips closed to keep the potatoes out, but Liam wouldn’t quit.
“You’ll fucking do what I say!” The fork stabbed my lip and knocked against my teeth. Liam squeezed my face hard, trying to make me open my mouth. And I was going to. I wasn’t strong enough.
Then Liam let go of me.
The fork fell on my plate, a loud clatter in the middle of glasses falling over. I opened my eyes and saw Kellen standing up, leaning across the table. He had one hand pressed to the center of Liam’s chest to push him back into his chair. That was all he needed to stop Liam, who looked small under Kellen’s hand.
“Don’t do that,” Kellen said.
As soon as he let go, Liam sat up. All his smallness drained out and anger rushed in again.
“Are you telling me how to discipline my own kid in my house?” Liam said, but his shirt was still rumpled from Kellen’s hand.
“No, but you don’t need to do her that way.”
Kellen sat down and smoothed the tablecloth back out.
“I’ll be damned if I take orders from you, you fat fucking slob,” Liam said.
“You want your kid to end up a fat fucking slob like me? Just go on doing that, forcing her to eat. It’s what my pa did. Made me clean my plate whether I wanted to or not. Busted my jaw once. So, you know, think about that.”
Liam laughed. He lost the fight, but everyone would have to pretend he hadn’t. Mama knew how to pretend that.
“Well, damn, you’re sensitive, Kellen. I’m gonna be more careful around you. I don’t wanna hurt your little feelings and shit.”
Kellen took another bite of meatloaf. It looked like it was hard for him to swallow, but he kept eating.
I watched him chew, wishing I could eat. Something sticky and warm dribbled down my chin. Blood. Mama watched, too soft to do anything. Kellen passed me his handkerchief under the table. When I took it, I felt how strong his hand was. I didn’t understand how he could be afraid of Liam, when he was so much bigger.
Kellen’s handkerchief was worn soft from being washed, and I didn’t want to ruin it, but I put it against my mouth. When I took it away, my blood was bright in the middle of the whiteness.
Liam set his glass up and said, “Get me some more beer, Val.”
Mama went to the fridge and took out a beer. She poured as much as would go into Liam’s, and then she topped up Kellen’s glass, even though it hadn’t fallen over. The Giant had stopped a train, calmed a wild beast, and didn’t even spill his beer.
9
WAVY
Mama was Old Val when she woke up the next morning. She shaved under her arms, between her legs, and all down them. After she curled her hair, she put on makeup and the tight clothes Liam liked. No breakfast for her, except for the pills that made her eyes sparkle and her hands float. I was waiting for her to leave the room so I could eat my oatmeal before it got cold.
“Come on,” Mama said. “Get your shoes on.”
No oatmeal. No school. I pulled on my boots, the good ones Kellen bought. Room to grow, he said.
“At least your hair’s combed,” Mama said.
It wasn’t, but Grandma said it was so fine knots couldn’t stay in it. Braids and ponytails slithered out of rubber bands like snakes.
Mama was at the door, ready to go.
“Donal,” I said. I think she really forgot about him.
“Shit. I must be losing my mind.”
Mama hauled him out of the playpen like that was all she had to do. I went around stuffing things into a shopping bag: diapers, a bottle, shoes. Real babies are a lot more trouble than plastic babies.
In the barn, the car wouldn’t start, so Mama hiked down the gravel road to the trailers, saying swear words.
“Isn’t Kellen a goddamn mechanic? Can’t he make sure that car will fucking start? Donal, you weigh a ton, kid. What have you been eating?” Old Val talked fast and laughed.
In the yard outside Dee’s trailer, people were loading motorcycles on trailers. I heard Kellen’s voice coming from the garage, but when I stopped to look for him, Mama snapped her fingers in my ear.
“Come on, daydreamer.”
I followed her up the clattery metal steps into the trailer, where the TV was on loud and something smelled sweet and cinnamony. It made my stomach growl.
Ricki and Dee were sitting in the kitchen, eating coffee cake and laughing. Dee talked with her mouth full. Mouth open for two dangerous things. Double bad. She said, “No way in hell.”
“Liam was still laughing about it. He said, ‘I guess Kellen’s a little touchy about his weight,’” Ricki said.
“Kellen wouldn’t say boo to Liam. He’s a big ole cream puff.”
“You didn’t see him beat the crap out of that guy over at the Rusted Bucket. I think he’s scary in his own lumbering retard way.” Ricki always said mean things about Kellen, but she was stupid. You’d have to be stupid to like Liam and not Kellen.
Dee laughed until she saw Mama standing there, glaring.
Hate rippled off Mama and fluttered against my skin. It made my stomach hurt.
“Get up off your asses, you fucking whores. I don’t stand in my own house,” Mama said.
“It’s not your house,” Ricki said.
“The hell it isn’t. Everything that’s his is mine. I’m his wife. If I told him to, he’d kick you to the curb.”