CHAPTER ELEVEN: A SMALL PIECE OF PAPER THAT CARRIES A LOT OF WEIGHT

Five weeks later…

MICHAEL

Why didn’t someone talk me out of this? Why didn’t they warn me?! Oh right, Ma did try but… Well, I just wanted to be out from under her by any means necessary, which she told me that I would regret big time. Truer words were never spoken, but she shouldn’t have made it so difficult for me to live with her! 

Then again, she always did. 

And now… Now I’m stuck with a decision that at first seemed like a really good idea, but has turned out to be one of my worst ones yet! I never expected that she would turn into this… this... TYRANT, having me on a shorter leash than my Ma ever did. And all because of the fifty thousand dollars I was promised in the very near future. When I tried to negotiate the price of my services, she laughed- actually LAUGHED- saying that really she was doing me the favor, since I would only keep hanging onto my mother’s apron strings if she hadn’t offered me a way out. 

And as I stare at myself in the mirror, the only thing that keeps repeating in my mind is: THIS IS ALL BRIAN’S FAULT! Had he not married that insignificant little fuck, I wouldn’t have been forced into this unholy union with someone I once considered a friend, but that I now see as my jailor. And what’s worse is… I can’t even think of it or I’ll hurl! Why did I agree to this in the first place?!

Looking back to my brief return to Portland, I can see just how things began to snowball. Why the hell didn’t David and Hank stay put so that I could have gone to live with them again? Why is it always me who ends up suffering because of other people’s selfish choices? Why are they ALWAYS so inconsiderate of what I NEED? I feel like Superman must have felt that time when Lex Luthor’s evil friends trapped him in a power-zapping chamber.

None of mine have been working of late, and that just fucking sucks!

When I arrived at the airport after ten miles of doing the walk of shame from David’s former house, I thought I would never be so happy to get on a plane and out of that fucking place in my life. But instead of buying my ticket right away, I collapsed into the first plush seat I saw. Somehow or another, I must have fallen asleep because I remember being slapped awake by one of the angriest women I’d ever seen in my life.

“What??? Ma….”

“Don’t you dare call me your mother, you fucking incompetent prick!” the shrill voice yelled at me, drawing the attention of just about everyone in the lobby that late at night. “If anyone should have had an abortion it was YOUR mother! You had one job; ONLY ONE, and that was to keep my fucking ex-husband occupied enough that he would forget all about the agreement I signed to hand over my son to him upon his thirteenth birthday.”

Upon recognizing just who was screaming at me, I fired back without thinking. “Don’t you mean your meal ticket, Lori? Let’s be honest here… Hank was nothing more than your way into David’s pockets!”

“I had much more of a right to be there than you did!” she yelled again, before slapping me again. “I swear, you would think you would be good for something else other than whining a person to the point where they want to shut you up permanently! If you had just done your fucking job, I would STILL HAVE MY SON!”

“What the hell are you talking about? My job? I didn’t hold a job in Portland!”

“No, you didn’t, did you? You might have had more value if you actually did! No, your job was to use your useless ass to keep David from pulling the alimony from me. After all, look at all I’ve done for you!”

“What? You’ve never done anything for me!”

“Yes, I did! I kept David from going back to his ex! If I hadn’t, your ass would have been out far faster than when he finally sent your childish ass back across the country. And let me guess… things weren’t the way you thought they should be when you arrived back in Pittsburgh. That man you spent your entire time here pining for is HAPPILY screwing someone else, right? Yes, I know all about it. So you thought to come slithering your ass back here, hoping for another chance to swindle David into funding your life, huh? Well FORGET IT! If anyone is going to have David paying their way through life indefinitely, it’s ME! NOT YOU!”

“And that just burns you up, doesn’t it?” I refused to acknowledge that her comment about why I was back in Portland was correct. “That he isn’t supporting you anymore is what really pisses you off, right? You don’t care one damn bit about Hank. No, it’s all about you, isn’t that right?”

“And you would know all about that, wouldn’t you, Michael?! Unlike you, I have skills- marketable skills and an education- that have nothing to do with me constantly acting clueless in order to get attention. Which, if you asked me, I’d tell you your act needs work! But no matter, because see, whereas I can always get someone well-off to ultimately take care of me again, you don’t stand a chance. NO REAL MAN would want such a whiny little punk like you. Go back to the Pitts, and reclaim your job at the Big Q, Michael. It’s clearly the only thing you’re qualified to do other than live inside that empty landfill you call a mind.”

Just as I was getting ready to respond to her, the security guard came over to us. “Is there a problem over here, Miss Davidson?”

“Not anymore, Charlie. My flight should be called at any moment. I’m done with this trash.”

She turned her back on me, and walked with Charlie to the first class lounge. I watched with narrowed eyes as they laughed constantly, until they finally disappeared behind the red door to the right of the customer service desk. I was tempted to follow her just to explain my side of things. I needed Lori back on my side if I was going to find out where David had gone. But I couldn’t do that and still be able to get the next possible flight out of Portland.

So I went over to the counter, and after about fifteen minutes, I took another seat. The flight didn’t leave until four the next morning, and it was just barely eleven p.m. My mind raced with plans on how to get Brian back on my side where he belonged. I still couldn’t believe that he told me to get used to having my mother’s attention all to myself again. He knew just how much I hated that!

By the time I landed back in this hell of a city, I was no closer to coming up with the answer to my problems than when I’d left in the first place. It didn’t help that with all the close-end traveling, my account was sixteen-hundred dollars lighter; yet another thing Brian owes me for! But just then, I couldn’t afford to think about it all. I had to figure out a way to put a permanent stop to whatever plans Brian and Boy Wonder had before they took off. I also needed to find a way to keep Ma off my back about finding a job until I could successfully make a plan to keep Brian’s ass in Pittsburgh.

Looking for a job was going to cut into time I didn’t seem to have.

When I got back to Ma’s house, I thought she’d gone to work because I actually had to use my key to get into the front door. But no such luck! She was sitting there amid all my boxes that had arrived from Portland, angrily flipping the channels between QVC and The Home Shopping Network. It was then I knew just how pissed off she was.

“So you’ve returned, huh?”

“Obviously,” I answered her in the same way she’d asked me the question, before I sighed. “Look, Ma. I’ve had the night from hell, after having spent it in the airport. I’m really not in the mood to deal with anything else other than having a good few hours sleep. We can…”

“Talk about this shit, right fucking now? That is what you were going to suggest, right Michael? Because if it was that we’ll talk about all your lies later, you’re sadly mistaken. Now what the fuck happened in Portland? And why was there a certified letter addressed to me, but was really about you?”

“What? What certified letter was about me? I didn’t do anything!”

“No… you never do anything, do you?” Ma pressed the button on the remote shutting the television off then, before coming to stand in front of me… well, as best she could since there were stacks of my boxes between us, for which I was somehow thankful for at the moment. “I want to know why you applied for and received a credit card in both our names, yet you haven’t paid one fucking dime on the goddamn bill!”

Oh shit! I thought, since I’d never meant for her to find out about the card. I’d done it on a whim, but knew that based on my credit, I couldn’t qualify. I knew that if I asked her, she would ask a million questions that I didn’t want to answer at that moment. I mean, I knew she would eventually say yes, but I couldn’t think of what she’d consider a valid reason for me to have the card. So when I applied using her credit, I was shocked that they’d approved me right away. 

I asked for the card to be overnighted to me, since time was of the essence. I needed to register for the Comic Con that was coming to Pittsburgh no later than five p.m. the next day. I didn’t want to miss out, since a couple of my favorite modern writers and illustrators were going to be there before going on to do their European tour. I didn’t exactly know how to tell her that, so I tried to dodge the question with a whined, “Ma…”

“Don’t, Michael. Just don’t! You know, I have taken a lot of shit from you over the years; made others take the same shit, too. But I have NEVER in a million years thought that you would run up nearly five-thousand dollars using credit that I worked damn hard to get into good standing without a thought or care for me.” She sighed heavily, before narrowing her eyes at me again. And I knew what she was going to ask me, even before she uttered the words, “So what was so important that you would betray my trust for?”

“I didn’t…”

“YES, YOU DID! I told my social security number to you for the purpose of a medical emergency, Michael! Not so that you can apply for a fucking credit card in my name without my knowledge, or permission! Now. WHAT. THE. FUCK. DID. YOU. USE. THE. CARD. ON?!” I started to answer her with an excuse I thought she’d easily buy like she had in the past, but she stopped the thought dead in its tracks. “And the TRUTH!”  

Shamefully, I spilled my guts to her then, watching warily as she got angrier and angrier at me as I told her the story, and who was at Comic Con that I just had to see, and what I needed to have for my collection, and… The slaps that followed weren’t like anything from her I’d ever felt before. Even now as I remember them, I still hear a distinct, and distant ringing in my ears; I didn’t even see her move so I could duck! She allowed me the rest of the afternoon to rest, but the following morning she made sure I unpacked my old uniform pants and dress shirt that I’d often worn in my former job as Department Manager at the Big Q. Then she had the nerve to not only drive me there, but followed me inside to make sure I put the application in. 

Since they were holding a job fair, I was interviewed within twenty minutes of finishing the fucking application. Unfortunately for me- but fucking KUDOS to her- I got hired to begin working immediately. The only positive thing was that they were still willing to pay me the same hourly rate as I’d left with, even though I was basically starting from the bottom again. Apparently, they couldn’t wait to give Andrew my position within the first month after I’d left for Portland. And he’s made my fucking life a living hell from the moment he found out I was back.

But the worse thing has been that Ma had ordered me to pay off the fucking credit card, even after handing it to her. So for the last few weeks, she left me with all but twenty-three dollars, which was just enough to get back and forth to the damn store. Then she found out about my account, despite all my efforts to hide it from her, but when the mail comes to her house and it’s in a locked mailbox… She took the rest of what was left in it, which had actually paid off the card and the last few months that she was supporting me with the apartment I used to share with Emmett. She said that now that she’d lost her job because of me, consider it the beginning of her severance pay for wiping my ass.

Things had gotten so bad between me and Ma by then that I just wanted to either jump off one of the Three Sisters Bridges, or push her down a flight of stairs for her own brother to find her. I had to do something before I did something to put me back in jail on a more permanent basis. So when Tracy had approached me with this idea of hers, it was a no-brainer to me. I mean, I knew she still had a crush on me, despite knowing I’m gay, but she was also someone I considered a friend.

Until now, that is.

No. Now she’s my wife. I never thought it would be like this! After finding out that her uncle had left her his entire estate, Tracy found out that the only stipulation to claiming it fully was that she needed to be married. At first when she’d asked me, I thought she was crazy. But then she told me just how much the estate was worth- as in MILLIONS in money and property- and all I could see was being able to get out from under Ma’s roof to live my own life again. 

But that’s not what’s happening at all!

Prior to the wedding which had only happened a week ago, Tracy had come up with a whole set of rules of conduct in an effort to make this look believable to her family and friends. No complaining or arguing, especially in front of company; no days missed from work unless I was deathly ill; no being late coming home from work unless arranged and discussed beforehand… oh, and did I forget to mention that her uncle was the owner of Big Q? But the real kicker was that after my Last Allowed Night of Debauchery, I couldn’t go anywhere to take care of my sexual needs unless it was to her. I mean what the fuck, right? It didn't help that I didn't have any takers except Ramone, whose dick was about the same size as mine and not very satisfying, but she knows I’m gay and all, yet she… 

She told me that it was expected of her to birth an heir. When I suggested that we do it the same way Brian had with Lindsay, she said no. When I protested, she once again threw in my face that she was paying me at the end of all this unless I wanted an annulment immediately. When I told her that she had made that pretty much impossible with the way she was acting, she said that her major in college was Drama, so her family wouldn’t really think hard of her. But me on the other hand… 

Then she handed me a pill from the bottle of Viagra she got from her aunt who had a friend of hers prescribe them in her husband’s name, and told me that she expected me in the bedroom in ten minutes. Before we began, she chucked me on the chin and told me to look on the brightside. When I asked her what it was, she said that the brightside was that I was out from under my mother’s rule, which was what I’d wanted so badly. Then she said that many men lived in the closet, and that as long as I didn’t act on my tendencies with anyone but her, she wouldn’t divorce me before the time we agreed on only to leave me with only the mere pittance in my account to show for my efforts at freedom. Then she had the audacity to remind me that I’d told her that if Brian was mine, I’d demand the same kind of fidelity from him. 

But even with that, it was her words later on our wedding night still haunt me, even now. “Karma is a bitch, Michael. And it looks like you’re mine.”