Son of Destruction

25




Steffy


Slick as a scam artist, Steffy springs her friend Dan from Mom’s lair, a.k.a. the flowered sofa, before the woman can weight him down with a ton of cookies and talk him to death. The way Nenna scowls, you’d think Steffy was running off with her new boyfriend, not saving a helpless stranger from Death by Monologue. When her mom sucks a person into those soft pillows and starts, you can practically see the cobwebs form. Usually it’s one of the hags she hangs out with, but even though the big party was last night, not one of her Lunch Bunch phoned and nobody came by. It’s weird. Unless it’s sad.

Steffy might stop to feel sorry, if she wasn’t in such a rush. Poor Mom was spilling her troubles to a stranger because her friends don’t call and she’s had a shitty week. God, how embarrassing! She probably went off on Dad in gross detail, up to and including the humiliating fact that he has to drag his pillow downstairs after Steffy goes to bed, like they don’t think she knows that he’s slept on the rollaway ever since the fight.

Please God, don’t let her complain about the sex. Mom is so pissed off right now that she doesn’t care what comes out of her mouth. Right now it looks like she’s quit caring what she does. The woman is flat-out flirting, when she needs to get her ass to a marriage counselor and buy lessons in putting everything back where it belongs. She can vent for $150 an hour and do something useful at the same time and, boy, does her mother love to vent. Steffy read a book once that had a whole chapter called ‘The Human Swamp.’ Well, that’s Mom.

‘Hey, Dude!’ She storms the room and Dan lights up.

‘Steffy. Hey!’

‘So, Mom,’ Steffy calls, releasing him from the sofa. ‘Dan and I have a Thing we have to do.’

‘Wait! Oatmeal cookies!’

Steffy nudges Dan through the door with a bright, ‘He’s going, Mom.’

Behind them, Mom bulks up like Swamp Thing, all waving tendrils and mournful eyes. ‘Where?’

‘Emergency,’ he chokes, clicking his cellphone open and shut to prove it. ‘I’m sorry, and thanks.’

Bingo, zot, it’s like magic. They’re out the door.