Blame The Weeds (gxg)

11

My mind was bottomless, but I didn't care. I was hanging on the lip of a well, clamouring for a hold, fingers slipping fast. Whether it was waking or sleeping, it never mattered. I'd fall, but for now, the hunger pangs brought me out of bed. My closet was overfull with greyscale clothing, so opposed to the rainbow of my childish room, but at the very back was mom's old sari, orange and gold like the sun itself. I'd only seen pictures of her wearing it next to my father in a slate grey kurta with gold trim to match. Now, mom's fabric rested in my closet, and my father's in his that he shared with another woman.

I pulled a clean T-shirt over my head and jeans onto my legs, deeming both pieces acceptable for the late June weather, not that I was planning on going anywhere but next door.

When I stepped downstairs, dad was on the couch, coffee in hand, watching the newest episode of The Sopranos. He fixed his eyes on the screen as I walked toward the kitchen. Both Williams women giggled over a pan of cooking bacon in the kitchen. The smell surrounded the place, along with a bit of smoke from the toaster, likely a piece of rye forgotten by Rue. Gabrielle grinned at her daughter, flicking her nose. Her bright smile glowed against the darkness of her skin and the gold that lined her eyes. Gone were her bank clothes, replaced with her Saturday pants and a flowery green blouse.

Rue's braids were in two high pigtails, and she wore long soccer shorts and a cropped yellow shirt. Both showcased her enviably athletic frame. I'd never been athletic, just willowy and out of breath. When dad enrolled me in ballet ten years ago, I'd lie down and nap. The instructors had loathed me.

I didn't want to be noticed yet, if at all. Rue had avoided me all last night, and I knew this morning would be no different. It was probable both my father and Gabrielle knew what happened in the rain. As if I needed another reason to argue with my dad.

Rue grabbed orange juice from the fridge, smiling without even realizing it. I took that away from her yesterday. Worse, I wanted to see her tears. But as I watched her find four glasses, not three, and fill one halfway with exactly two ice cubes, my bottom lip wavered.

My stomach growled loud enough that I couldn't hide in silence any longer. Gabrielle's eyes caught me first. I must have looked worse than I thought because her face pinched in quick pity before she called me over. Rue ignored me. When I pulled up one of the creaky broken stools to the island, Gabrielle set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me. Then, like a phantom, Rue deftly set my iced juice beside it and left the kitchen. I stared at my steaming food.

"Eat up before you bring the house down with that rumbling, honey." Gabrielle tucked a curl behind my ear, patting my cheek. It was a warm, motherly gesture that Ida had done a thousand times as I grew up.

I took a breath and gripped my fork, stabbing a piece of bacon. The hot oils melted on my tongue, and when I swallowed, my stomach calmed. Gabrielle leaned on her forearms across from me.

"Your father is taking Rue to her qualifying match at noon today," she informed me. "That leaves us to do something fun." I inhaled another mouthful of eggs and washed it down with my juice, sighing.

"I'm going over to Luke's," I said. But Gabrielle shook her head.

"Not today. It's time for a break."

"I'll get a break tomorrow," I countered. "I'm going hiking with Freya."

"You'll have two days of break, then," she said, straightening up and turning around. "When you're done, go and get dressed. We're running errands."

There were many reasons not to argue: I didn't want to start a fight, and I didn't need my father angrier. However, one overreaching reason clung to the back of my collar—sitting on Luke's bed, staring at him as he stared at the wall. It made me feel like driftwood at sea with all the other pieces. Some would make it back to their harbours, and some would sink. I knew I'd sink too, but it didn't have to be today. So this day with my stepmother would help me float a little longer.