Dreamily, Odelia poured a box of Junior Mints into her mouth with one hand as she reached for her remote with the other.
Next to her, on the edge of the bed, lay a stack of gift bags. She had chosen bags mainly because they were less painful to produce than boxes, being rollable. Also they were pre-decorated with bright pictures rendered in holographic foil, which eliminated the need for wrapping.
All she needed to do now was fill them.
On the television, a smiling host was strolling through a garden. As Odelia lifted the remote, intending to change the channel, a little wind escaped her, and the faint scent of spring lilacs wafted into the room.
That was something new! She farted again, deliberately this time, and the scent of roses rolled forth. On the screen, the host had moved from standing in front of lilacs to a grouping of rose bushes.
For a moment, she considered trying to produce a rose itself, but the thought of thorns flashed through her mind, so she went ahead and changed the channel, instead.
"—last Precious Moments show of the year!" the vivacious blond QVC host said. From the warning tone in her voice, you'd have thought this was the equivalent of "last gas station for the next four hundred miles of interstate!" BEWARE! Buy now, lest ye run out of tacky before New Year's Eve!
The door of her bedroom flew open and Jackson stomped in. "Why are there twenty tubes of toothpaste in my bathroom but next to nothing in the kitchen cupboards?"
"Ummm... There was a sale—" she started.
"It beggars belief that you, of all people, would make a trip to the store and not bring home food. What is this, your idea of a diet? Bring no food into the house because you can't resist... What the hell is THAT?"
Her eyes followed his accusatory finger jab to the empty Junior Mints box in her hand.
"It's... I had..." Her newly honed lying abilities failed her.
"You're stuffing your face with candy, but you couldn't be bothered to bring home cereal for the kids' breakfast? What the FUCKING HELL WERE YOU THINKING?" He stared at her, his buggy eyes open so wide it was possible to imagine his eyeballs tipping out, falling from their sockets to dangle, wobbling, over the crests of his cheekbones.
"JeeeesusChrist, Odelia! A diet does not consist of spending the family's grocery money on nothing but toiletries and paper products while still gorging yourself on chocolate, you fat fucking retard. Thanks to you, I've got enough fucking toothpaste for the next ten years, but nothing to goddamn eat to make my teeth dirty enough to need brushing." He stepped closer, jabbing his finger at her as if he were throwing punches. "You are going to get off your fat ass right this minute, waddle down to Kaiser's and pick up a box of fucking Cocoa Puffs for tomorrow morning. NOW, GOD DAMN IT!"
He had chosen the wrong moment in which to demand that she stand up. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to let us run out of cereal—"
"And bread, and peanut butter and fruit and vegetables and frozen dinners and ice cream and—"
"YES! I'm sorry, Jackson. I didn't mean to—"
His face contorted with rage. "Really? Because I don't see you racing to make it right. If what you're waiting for is another handout, you can fucking forget it. Since you saw fit to waste every cent of the grocery money on shit we can't eat, you can damn well pay for the food out of your own pocket, you fat hog. Yeah, you heard me! Now get off your useless ass!"
YOU ARE READING
Tipping the Scales
ChickLitOdelia has spent most of her life so firmly under her brother's thumb that she might as well have been an insect trapped in a chunk of amber, but now, at long last, something is happening to her. Too bad it's not a nice, normal, something, like a '...
