Shattered

Chapter 19 Mark

"The reason people find it so hard to be happy is that they always see the past better than it was, the present worse than it is, and the future less resolved than it will be." Marcel Pagnol

"She's not a tramp," Mark defended. He usually tolerated his grandmother but she was crossing a line and Mark was going to set the record straight no matter what. "We weren't having sex, we've never had sex, and you're embarrassing me right now. I...please...I need you to leave my room so I can check on Bradley."

"She has a boys' name? How odd. Did she seduce you?"

"No!"

"Those eyes, any boy could look into those eyes and lose control."

"Grandma, I am begging you! Please trust me! That is my girlfriend and I love her and I'm not going to let you talk about her like that!"

"If your father saw this he would be so upset!" Mark sat on the edge of the bed and started laughing. The corners of her mouth pursed in anger. "What is so funny young man?"

"You still talk about my father like he's some sort of saint," smirked Mark. "You really don't have a clue."

"Your father works hard to provide this nice life for you. He bought you that expensive car. He pays for this expensive house, your clothes, food, all the bills. And, he works twelve, even fourteen hours a day to provide for you and your drunk of a mother."

Mark rolled his eyes at her naivety. "Grandma, maybe he used to work hard. But now, he pays people to work hard for him. He pretends to work all the time to hide the fact that he's screwing his secretary." Her eyes widened in horror. "And, maybe part of the reason my mom is a drunk is because her husband hasn't touched her in years and she lives with the fact that her husband shares a bed with another woman. She's afraid to leave him, because they are both grasping to just one string, calling us a family. The guilt of either one of them abandoning me after losing Melissa would destroy them. So, they ignore each other and they ignore me. And, we're all pretty used to the way things are right now."

"That does not give you the right to come and go as you please and prance women in and out of this house. You are being ungrateful, rude and disrespectful, young man!"

Mark knocked on the bathroom door and Bradley slowly peeked out. "Are you dressed?" he asked. She nodded. "Are you okay?" She nodded again. Mark took her hand in his and escorted her into the bedroom. Mark stood and squared his shoulders at his grandmother. "Grandma, this is Bradley Whitfield, my girlfriend."

"Nice to meet you," muttered Bradley, leaning into Mark.

His grandmother remained silent. "Every year since my fifteenth birthday, my father has given me a box of condoms and a pint of Jack Daniels." Her eyes hardened. "And, every year, I have donated the condoms to the jar in the Nurse's Office at school and dumped the liquor down the kitchen sink so my mother wouldn't drink it." He could feel Bradley beaming at him. "And, Bradley, well grandma, she is just the most extraordinary girl in the entire world and I am madly in love with her. And, what we have is forever. One day, when we're ready, that thing that you're so scared of me doing, will happen. But, that day is not today. And, if you ever call her a tramp again, you won't have the privilege of knowing her or me any longer."

"Mark," his grandmother frowned. "You need guidance. I can't just stand back and watch you run amok."

"That's the thing," he shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not running amok. I'm with my friends, and my friends are my family."

Mark grabbed the white Lacoste polo off the hanger from his desk and shoved his keys in the pockets of his jeans. He slowly inched past his grandmother and smiled at her as they passed.