How Nick Michaelson Got Into Tabbie Holmes' Pants

Chapter Two: Sunday

I woke up to the sight of my moms thin round face above me. She had pulled the curtains, removed my comforter from my body and was now staring at me attentively. Her light blue eyes were scanning my face, every other second she would suck her teeth then shake her head. It was quite obviously what she was looking at. The bruises on my face were probably light purple by now, I figured there would be a nice shiner around my left eye on a count of the pain I felt.

My mom let out a long sigh. Patting my chest, she got up from my bed. Her silk pink robe trailed from my bed and clung itself to her body.

Our family wasn’t rich, hell I don’t even think we were middle class. We were poor in my eyes, plain and simple. But my dad still managed to get my mom something pretty and expensive for their anniversary, hence the silk robe. Our old four bedroom two story farm house(minus the farm animals) was passed down through five generations. It was a raggedy old house with faded white paint and an even more busted up barn. We were a hard working family and we enjoyed helping each other. More than enjoyed, it was a code than anything else. Even after all my older siblings moved out and got married, had kids and left Minnesota, they made sure we were never forgotten. And I appreciated them for that. Especially Benny. Although he was a struggling musician, who traveled all over the country with his amatuer band, he still managed to provide for us. Not saying my parents couldn’t. Who am I kidding, they were both professors and my father occasionally would be called for his Historian duties only when a museum or some charity program needed his assistances. Other than that they made shit.

Now our household only included my parents, my brothers, Ken and Matt, and myself. Hadley married her high school sweetheart right after they graduated. They stayed in Pennsdale, popped out a few kids,and were living a normal life. They came to our house for dinner every Sunday and it’s great. Leo moved to St.Cloud with his too perfect wife, Gwyneth who’s a totally nut case. She’s like a creepy 1950’s housewife from hell. Picture a flawless wife and mother then times it by ten, that’s Gwyneth, just with stiff blonde hair in an equally flawless bun. Along with it all is her perkiness, devilish smile, and baked goods, she’s like Martha freaking Stewart on crack. If Gwyneth didn’t breath regularly I would think she was a robot, like from that movie with Nicole Kidman and Matthew Broderick. My brother Paul lives close to us. And when I mean close I mean down the road close. He married his English tutor who was ten years older than him and five times hotter than any woman I ever seen despite her age. She looked like she belonged on a modeling billboard that hung above buildings in New York rather than being in this dead in town. But they were a nice couple. Both blessed in the good looks department and they both possessed incredible personalities. But Paul never let his big heart fool anyone, from what I heard he kicked ass in his glory days.

“Now I know I still shouldn’t have to wake you up for church every Sunday. You’re a big boy Nicolas, you know what time you have to be up a ready.” my mother turned so that I could see her raised brow. That almost always meant for me to get off my ass and get a move on it.

“Yeah I know mom. It’s just my-ah, my head.” sitting up I tried to let my eyes adapt to the sun's blinding light. I touched my face, wincing at the bruised areas.

“That’s what you get for trying to be a tough guy.” she gave me her disapproved look. My father, despite his intellect, was a brute and an aggressor. No matter how much our mother hounded him for teaching us to fight at an early age, he kept pushing and he kept pushing hard. When I was six I came home to an amatuer fight club scence starring Joe, Geoff and Sam. They were out in the barn for hours, beating each other down while our father watched. When they did something wrong, he would grab one of them yell until they absorbed all of his frustration and slam them to the floor of the barn, making them go at it again.