The Trap

I was a little behind schedule, with my arm hurting so much, but I’ve learned to be resourceful. Everything would be ready on time.

My dress was laying on the bed, and all I had to do was slide into it. Heavier makeup this time, to hide the bruises. It was a little slow, but I’ve had long practice.

I made my way downstairs. The kids were already there, lined up. We donned aprons to transfer food to the table, so we didn’t mess up our good outfits. Once the process was finished, they got quick-chucked in the laundry. Out of sight, out of mind.

And at six on the dot, he appeared.

We welcomed my husband home. I took his coat with a peck on the cheek. One of the kids put on his robe, another took his briefcase, set it to the side. He plopped in the chair, and one took his boots. Another brought his slippers. We’ve done this so often, we could perform it while sick, while half-asleep, while dodging kicks. And we had done all three in the past.

There was nothing he could snarl about, so with a loud harrumph he lurched towards the dining room, and we followed. The kids sat themselves, and I distributed the food. His is served first, of course. Tonight, it was Tuesday, so the biggest, fattiest, juiciest, cheeseburger you could imagine. Done to perfection, the way he always wanted it – stuffed with bacon, no veggies (those are for rabbits!), a thick slab or two of melting cheddar, condiment tray at his right hand, to add what he wanted. Tonight, he chose my homemade mayonnaise, and ketchup. Extra sugar in the latter.

The rest of us? I had a regular-sized burger, with some shredded cheddar. Tony, my oldest, had a bigger burger, with lots of meat and veggies, because he needs to keep his weight up. Sarah had her black bean veggie burger, and Annie, a cheeseburger like mine.

I heaped my husband’s plate with loaded French fries. Chili, sour cream, salsa, cheese goo. The rest of us had plain ones, with some ketchup on the side. And Brussels sprouts, which Darling Husband sneered at.

We ate quietly, neatly. Well, most of us.

Husband was well into his second helping of fries, and his third beer, while we were still finishing our firsts.

I thought we might get away unscathed, but I thought wrong.

“You! Why can’t you eat meat, like God intended! Think yer too good for a real meat-and-potatoes meal like the rest of us?”

Sarah, like the champ she is, sighed, and stared at her food. “I’d love to, Dad, but I’m still being punished. I’m trying to get my math scores up, but Algebra’s hard. I’ll study more, I promise, but the English Lit test is coming, so I have to concentrate on that as well.”

“Hmph. You, girlie! What’s with the long face? Smile, dammit, I’m the one who pays your bills! Be more grateful!”

I shot Annie a warning look. Don’t mess this up, honey…

Annie’s my youngest, so I worry about her temper. But she was so brave, she removed her mulish features and plastered on a smile. “Sorry, Dad. I was thinking about my Physics final coming up. I was running formulae in my head. I know, not at the dinner table, sorry. I’m glad you’re home safe, that commute must be awful.”

“Hmph. Damn right. You may have some more fries.”

“Thank you!” I scooped her a smallish helping, and she delicately dipped the ends in a little heap of ketchup. I saw her hand off the majority to Tony, and he made them disappear faster than my husband could notice.

I served my husband a triple-thick slice of fresh cake with marshmallow syrup and whipped cream. As expected, none of the rest of us merited a slice, so we watched as he ate the whole thing with little grunts of satisfaction. The hall clock chimed delicately as he licked his plate clean. He nodded at Tony, who politely asked permission to leave the table. When granted, he stood up, put his chair back in place, bowed to the table (well, to the Head of House), and glided to the door. His gym bag was already packed, and off he went to basketball practice.

He had the scholarship in the bag. His pre-med track was already scheduled around his practices, and he would start college early. Soon, so soon.

Dinner was over, so the girls went to their shared room upstairs, while I did the dishes. Husband lumbered over to the TV, to lose himself in mindless media. How shouty he would get depended on his alcohol content, and whether it was a politics night. My presence was not required, so I put the dishes in the dish washer, and went upstairs.

Husband could no longer climb the stairs. The rest of us used it as a quiet haven.

I heard the whispers on the way to my own bedroom, so I stopped to listen. Sometimes, the only way you can survive in this house – and prevent explosions – is eavesdropping.

“But how can you put up with-”

“Theater lessons. Want to join with me? Mom can sign the permission slip, make it look like another punishment. Slouch a little bit to make it more realistic, and Mom can sat it’s for posture reasons.”

Good work, Sarah. Of course, there was nothing wrong with Annie at all, but suggesting anything that resembled deportment lessons would reinforce the “demure girl” image in his brain.

I stared at the camouflaged picture hidden in my room. I wiped off makeup, trying not to flinch from the pain. What I would give for a do-over…

I must have lost track of time, because the girls were actually studying when I head the back door open. Tony, coming home from practice. I head him stop at the girls’ door and say something, and then suddenly, they were all in the room.

I didn’t expect them. They saw my face.

Tony wordlessly handed the bag he was holding to Sarah, and sat beside me, and wrapped himself around me carefully. The girls were crying soundlessly.

I knew what it looked like. I’d seen it in the mirror.

Tony’s breathing was harsh. “Sarah, can you pull out the ice cream? I got spoons in the kitchen for all of us. We need it.” He settled the carton on a towel, and we took turns dipping into the creamy goodness we weren’t allowed to have.

Tony wasn’t done. “Mom, this is a celebration. I got the scholarship. That puts me in the state university, and I signed the paperwork as soon as I was told. I’m graduating early, and skipping the ceremony, and onboarding early. They’re holding a spot for me as soon as my midterms are over.”

I smiled sadly. One out, though how to pay for it-

“There’s more. I got a letter from a lawyer at school. Coach had it for me. From a guy that says he’s my great-grandfather? On Dad’s side.”

I frowned. It made my face hurt. “I never heard from any of them once we buried your father.”

“Well, great-grampa must have developed a conscience. There are trust funds for each if us, payable on our eighteenth birthdays. Three months, Mom. Three months, and I’ve talked to Coach. Coach has a little apartment two towns over, and I can afford it with the scholarship and trust fund combined. I can move you three in with me, and you can divorce the bastard. I go to college, you two graduate, and get your own trust funds. Away from… him.”

Sarah spoke up. “Mom, he’s eyeing me up. You know what I mean. We need to get out.”

I felt sick. I stared at my ice cream, willing it to stay down.

Tony was checking my arm, gently feeling for breaks. He pulled out a cell phone (where did he get that?) and was texting his coach. Before I knew it, the girls had gone back to their rooms to pack.

Someone was coming to collect them. Someone was storing their extra stuff. Someone believed them. Us. Me.

Tony was looking at me with real concern. “Mom, can you pack your stuff? Our important papers? ‘Dad’s’ asleep downstairs, and it looks like he plowed through a family-sized bag of chips from his locked stash. You can hear him wheezing from here. Did you notice, his ankles and hands are badly swollen? And his neck. The girls and I have bets on what will kill him first, a stroke, a heart attack, his liver giving up, or diabetic coma. Want in?”

I was moving. I was packing. I wanted out. I wanted my life back.

Tony smiled, and helped. “My stuff’s been out for weeks,” he whispered. “I knew step-monster down there would pull something to keep me here. I’m not taking that chance.”

He found the picture – me, their father, three little kids. He placed it in a bag. I touched his arm. “He loved us, so much. The accident wasn’t his fault. The corporation, denying culpability, that’s when things went wrong. We had nothing but love. Savings? Well, we thought we had a future where we could save. And then, we didn’t. Living hand to mouth, and then it was all gone.”

“I remember.” He hiccuped. “I wanted so badly to be old enough to work, to support us. And then he came sniffing after you, promising too much. He didn’t realize Dad’s rich family didn’t give two shits about us once Dad was dead. When he found out you had nothing, the switch flipped. But he was already trapped in the marriage.”

“He could have let us go, but that would destroy his image. So we had to pay, instead. I’m done paying.”

Tony nodded. He and the girls slipped down the back stairs. In the alley, I could see a large car parked in the shadows.

My hands were shaking. I didn’t let that stop me from packing. It’s not like I had much anyway; I wasn’t allowed to. None of us were.

Mu husband snorted downstairs. I froze. But he was shifting in his sleep, sacked out in the comfortable chair that he custom ordered. We got hard chairs and thin cushions, of course. Not even a couch.

Tony was back. I handed him the bag with all the important paperwork that we would need to start over. I followed him to the hallway, and peeked down the stairs. I wondered how he would survive without me there to cook his meals, feeding him so much fat, sugar, alcohol, and salt, that I had hoped he’d choke on it.

Maybe, just maybe, he will now.

I followed my kids out the back door.