My mom was a beauty and apparently, every man in town thought so. I could still remember the nights my mom and dad would argue. I always wondered why he would let her run around on him like she did. If I knew as a boy what was going on, then you know everyone in town knew. My dad must’ve looked like a dumbass.
There were some happy times when they were together, but most days, I’d sit back and watch as Dad tried everything to make her happy. The day she left, she didn’t even say goodbye to Jenny and me. I could hear Dad begging her to stay and telling her how much he loved her.
At one point during the conversation, he asked, “What about the kids? You just gonna walk out on the kids?”
I couldn’t hear her response, but apparently, we didn’t matter too much. She gave up on us, and you never got over the pain of losing a mother. It would’ve been easier if she had died. I wouldn’t hate her as much for leaving if it wasn’t by choice.
I haven’t been the same since she left, and I’ve always blamed her for my fear of attachment. Though I’d never talk about it, deep down, she was the reason I had trust issues. She was the reason I refused to bind myself to anyone. The fear of feeling the way I felt the day she left was unbearable. I would never put myself in the position to get hurt like my dad did. I’d never even had a serious girlfriend.
Jenny was the reason I stuck around here. I’d die before I walked out on her. She was the only reason I still worked at Dad’s shop—the reason I’d do almost anything to get this money and save our home.
“Shit!” I said as I pounded my hand on the steering wheel.
Eight thousand dollars! Where in the hell was I going to find that kind of money so fast? I could always rob a bank. Bank robbers always got caught, but maybe I could hide the money somewhere for Dad and Jenny to find, like in one of those awesome action movies.
After driving around aimlessly for an hour, I ended up in front of Renee’s house. I was in need of a good dose of stress relief.
I spotted her sitting on her front porch, gossiping on her cell phone. She ended the conversation and smiled as soon as she saw me.
She was a pretty girl—tall and lean, the way I like them. I wouldn’t call her beautiful, since most of the attractive things about her were fake—box-dyed blonde hair, false nails, and a rigid smile. It would suck to find out that her blue eyes were contacts.
Physically, she was not perfect for me, since I liked natural girls better, but emotionally, she was my exact match. She was aware of my limits, which made things comfortable. No expectations made for an easy ride.
Thanks to her reputation for being a freak in the sheets, some guys called me lucky to have her. I knew differently. Her self-centered nature made her active in bed, but as for being a freak… not so much.
Slamming her slender body against mine, she wrapped her arms around my neck. I leaned down and pecked her on the mouth.
“Is that all I get? I swear, Devin, I don’t know why I bother with you.” Her deep southern twang stabbed into my eardrums. “I guess it’s too much to ask for a flirty phone call every now and again? I wish you would’ve called to let me know you were comin’ by. I have a nail appointment, and then Nicole’s coming over for a movie night. Oh! I almost forgot, I talked to Matt the other day… Did you know that Cassie’s brother went to Afghanistan?” She rambled on and on until finally she realized I wasn’t talking and stopped. “Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked.
I imagined myself choking her to death and laughing hysterically like one of those crazy scary movie psycho freaks. I almost laughed out loud at the thought. My dad would kick my ass for just thinking a thing like that. I was raised to never put my hands on a female.
“You talk too much. Let’s go inside and do this,” I said flatly.
There was no need to bullshit her into thinking I was there for any other reason but to get laid.
She leaned in and kissed me, slipping her tongue into my mouth. Before long, we were in her small, two-bedroom house, falling over things, trying to make it to her bedroom. Mindy, her roommate, was nowhere in sight, thankfully.
Afterward, I sat back in her bed, surrounded by fluffy, pink pillows and lace. She was definitely the girly type, nothing like my little sister Jenny. I’d probably die if I saw anything pink in her room. Renee quietly slept with her legs wrapped around mine. I felt so much better. Sex was what I needed; sex was the main reason I keep her around. Shit, she used me, why the hell shouldn’t I use her? I looked over at the pink alarm clock on the side table. It was getting pretty late. I really needed to head home, and I seriously needed to find eight thousand dollars… fast.
With that final thought, I quickly and quietly got out of Renee’s bed. Slipping on my clothes, I slid through the house to the front door. The evening air rushed through my hair as I slammed the door behind me. The entire way home, my thoughts were on money. There had to be a way; there was always a way.
Yesterday, at a charity benefit my mom pretended to be interested in, a miniature man on a massive stage was trying to get everyone to donate to a multitude of charities. I was usually the biggest donator, mainly because the people who run those things knew me so well—they preyed on my conscience and made me feel like a monster for having money. Once they pulled out the slideshows of starving children, I was done for. I left with at least a hundred grand missing from my bank account.
Anyway, this little man said something that made me really evaluate my world. He asked the group of multi-millionaires what they’d be willing to give up to make a difference in someone else’s life. It made me think of the things that I’d never give up. Money wasn’t really a problem, especially for me, but what in my life did I hold dear?
My list was pretty pathetic for a twenty-year-old woman. Really pathetic!
There were few things in my life that you’d have to pry from my cold, dead fingers before they were ever taken from me. The first thing was my Spanx. Which, in my opinion, were the best man-made contraptions ever, better than electricity or chocolate. The creators of those life-changing pieces of cloth should be put on a pedestal for all the chubby girls of the world to worship. Spanx, the body-shaping devices of the fatty-girl world… I bow down to you.
I didn’t know what they were made of, or who came up with the fantastical idea, but they were a godsend. If it weren’t for my Spanx, every fat roll I owned would spill forth like frothy, white volcano lava. It kept the back fat to a minimum, too. Everyone with extra poundage could appreciate that. There was just nothing like walking around feeling like you had an extra pair of double Ds strapped to your back.