CHAPTER 35 - Yeah, definitely. I’d wear a helmet all day if I were you.

Taylor

I’ve never regretted waking up so much in my entire life. The moment I opened my eyes it felt as though my head was going to explode. The harsh light of day only served to blind me and begin the pounding of my painful headache. With every breath I took I grew more and more nauseous. I pulled my pillow from behind my head to cover my face and willed myself to stop fixating on the throbbing of my brain in my skull.

Brooke entered the room dressed in a bathrobe, her hair wrapped up in a towel. We gave each other knowing looks, understanding the pain the other was going through. Hangovers are such a bitch.

“Morning,” she muttered, slowly sitting down on the bed next to me. The slight bouncing of the bed as she sat down made me clutch my stomach.

“Eraoiguplshdfl;kh.”

She smiled and laid down next to me, closing her green eyes. “I feel like crap.”

I took a deep breath to try to keep the nausea to a minimum. It wasn’t working too well. “I see your crap, and raise you a just run through a meat grinder.”

Brooke chuckled. “It was worth it though. I had a great time.”

I winced. “Did we really sing We Are Family? In public?”

“I believe we did,” she replied, yawning a little. “And at your request.”

Well, fuck. That’s what JD does to me, I guess. I still love him, though.

“Do you know what today’s date is?” I asked, sitting up slowly. I felt the room spin and immediately put my hand to my head.

“I think it’s the fifth.”

“Of October already? Wow, Zac’s birthday is coming up. The bastard will be fifteen already. I’ll have to run out and get him a present.” I turned to Brooke and bit my lip nervously. “Brooke, have you heard anything from your dad yet?”

Her expression became unreadable. “No, but I’m not shocked or anything. He’s probably glad to be rid of me.”

“I doubt that,” I replied, softly. At least, I hoped that wasn’t the case. I nearly fell over as the bedroom door suddenly opened and Olivia stormed in, the telephone in her hands.

It seems the darling young woman has never heard of knocking.

Or single serving portions.

“Phone,” she barked, making me cringe. My throbbing headache certainly does not need Olivia’s screaming. She thrust it towards me and narrowed her eyes. “You two look like shit.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” I muttered, grabbing the phone from her hands. “Bye.” Olivia gave me the finger and left the room, shutting the door behind her. “Hello?”

“Don’t kill me.”

I sighed. Who else could it be? “Hold on a second.” I left the bedroom and locked myself into the bathroom, turning the sink faucet on. “Abby? What are you talking about? Are you in trouble?”

“I-I told Ike the truth about us last night.”

“WHAT!” Yep, screaming at the top of your lungs is not the smartest thing to do when you have a killer hangover. Just a word of advice to those of you who are incredibly hungover and have to throttle the person who is currently inhabiting your body. “You told him the truth. About us.”

“Taylor, repeating it doesn’t make it any less true…” There was mild agitation in her voice.

“ABBY!” Now was not the time to pick on me! She just blabbed our secret to Isaac! NOT A GOOD MOVE. There were so many horrific scenarios playing in my head. Would he believe her? Would he tell Mom and Dad? Would they lock her up in a psychiatric ward? Whether I was hungover or not, my head would still be pounding terribly.

“I’m sorry!” She exclaimed, hurting my delicate ears. She must not be suffering from a hangover or she’d be a little more sympathetic to my poor, poor head. “I didn’t mean to or anything. It’s just that he was so sad and upset about not being included that I felt I had to include him. But I think it was the vodka in my mixed drinks that made me do it. I swear, it was an accident.”

I took a deep breath and tried to think rationally. “Has he said anything to you about it yet?”

“No, but he’s still sleeping. Zac is too.”

“Does Zac know?”

“No,” she replied, trailing off. “You don’t think he’d hit me, do you?”

I rolled my eyes. She was so stupid sometimes. “Yeah, definitely. I’d wear a helmet all day if I were you.”

“Your sarcasm is not appreciated,” she muttered. I could just envision her eyes narrowing. “I just wanted to call you and let you know what I did. Geez, for some reason I assumed you’d actually be helpful.”

I groaned. “What do you want me to tell you? My brothers don’t come with instruction manuals or anything. Just play it by ear. Besides, if you tell Zac immediately when he wakes up then he can help you deal with Ike. Okay?”

She seemed slightly mollified. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Is there anything else you needed to confess?”

She sighed heavily. “Not at the moment. I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay,” I replied, searching the medicine cabinet for some aspirin. Nothing but Midol. Hmm, would Midol work for hangovers? Hey, if it works for Abby’s death-like cramps, I don’t see why it couldn’t overcome a measly hangover. “Oh, and Abby?”

“What?”

“Happy three week anniversary.”

“Bah humbug.”

I smiled and pressed the off button on the cordless phone. I turned off the sink faucet and flushed the toilet to make it less obvious that I’d simply used the bathroom as a hiding place. I just set the phone on the dresser as I walked back into Abby’s bedroom. Brooke was fully dressed right now and looking up at me expectantly.

“That was, um, Zac,” I lied, sitting down exhaustedly on Abby’s bed. “He, er, wanted to make sure I wasn’t mad at him about that girl or whatever.”

“Good,” Brooke replied, smiling. “How is he feeling? Are the guys as hungover as we are?”

“Naw, alcohol really doesn’t make them sick,” I replied. “Just us.”

She chuckled. “It must be so nice to have a penis sometimes.”

I swallowed hard. “You have no idea.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And you do, right?” She laughed and walked over to her backpack, which was resting in the corner of Abby’s bedroom. “Ugh, I have to write a three page paper on the Caste System for stupid World Cultures. It’s going to take me forever because it can’t be double-spaced and I haven’t even begun the reading for it.”

“Well, if you need help I’m really good at stuff like that,” I replied, haphazardly.

“Science and math girl is good at history?” She questioned, teasingly. “Is there anything you AREN’T good at?”

I pretended to think hard. “I’ll have to spend some time on that. I’ll get back to you.” Damn, that reminds me of the mounds of biology and chemistry homework that I would sooner or later have to face. She chuckled and headed for the kitchen.

Living with Brooke had been incredibly easy on the family. Abby’s mother absolutely adored her, especially because she thought Brooke was just the kind of girl that Abby should be associating with. And, Brooke talked to her as easily as I did. I think Abby’s mom believes that “Abby’s” sudden change of attitude had a lot to do with her new friendship with Brooke. Ergo, Brooke was practically Abby’s mother’s favorite person. And Olivia, well, she doesn’t speak too much around Brooke so that’s considered a good thing in my book.

At about five o’clock that evening, Abby’s mother entered the kitchen with an excited grin on her face. Brooke and I, who had been begrudgingly doing our homework, looked up at her inquisitively. We were both curious as to why she looked as nervous and anxious as she did.

“Hey girls,” she began, almost breathlessly. I noticed that she was nervously cracking her knuckles and couldn’t help but grin at that. “I see that you’re busy with your homework, but I was wondering if you two could take a break and help an old woman get ready for her first date in over twenty years.” Brooke shrieked happily and I quickly got to my feet.

“Where is he taking you?” Brooke asked, as we followed Abby’s anxious mother back to her bedroom. Abby’s mother and I had already filled her in on everything concerning the current dating situation. We shut the door behind us and all three flopped onto the queen size bed.

Abby’s mother, who was adorably grinning from ear to ear, said, “I’m not sure really. He mentioned that I should dress nice… Do you think he’s taking me somewhere nice? Goodness, I haven’t gone out to dinner at a fancy restaurant in years! What if I use the wrong fork?!?”

I winked. Women were so funny sometimes. You’d never see a guy freaking out about what fork he should use. Well, except for maybe Ike. But he’s eccentric like that. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Abby’s mom sighed and ventured towards her closet. Peering in, she bit her lip. “I honestly have no idea what to wear. All of my really nice dresses are probably a decade old now! Oh, everything must be so dated now…”

Brooke stood and approached the closet. “Wow, you have all kinds of great stuff.” She pulled out a small black dress and whistled. “You have to wear this, Susan. Your date’ll be unable to take his eyes off you!”

I narrowed my eyes at the ensemble. “It’s awfully short, Brooke. We don’t want to give him the wrong idea or anything.”

Abby’s mother took the dress and leaned it against her. “I doubt I’ll be able to squeeze myself into it anyway. I wore this before I had even given birth to Olivia.” She chuckled to herself. “I’m warning you girls now, once you have children you’ll never look the same.”

Somehow I don’t think I’ll be needing that tidbit of info.

At least, I pray on all that is holy that I never will.

Hey, I know where babies come from. I believe that I have a firm grasp on the subject. Like, I understand the act of conception. Ergo, I can honestly say that I will never have to worry about getting pregnant. Unless, of course, I suddenly am overcome with the desire to get slammed into by a guy.

Yeah, I just burped again.

“Are you okay?” Brooke asked me.

I nodded, still a bit queasy-feeling. I really needed to stop grossing myself out all the time. People are going to think I’m bulimic. “Where’s Ab-er-Mom?”

Brooke grinned devilishly. She rested back on Abby’s mother’s bed. “She’s in the bathroom trying on that little black dress…”

“WHAT?!?” I swear, a guy takes a moment to contemplate pregnancy and everything falls to shit. I sincerely prayed that the dress would not fit. There was no way I was going to allow Abby’s unsuspecting, kind-hearted mother out of the house with some guy she barely knows looking like a French prostitute.

A minute later, Abby’s mother emerged. My jaw dropped to my knees as I gaped at the woman in front of me. The dress fit quite well actually, causing me to think a couple of inappropriate thoughts. I shook my head. I would not allow Abby’s mother to turn me on. It’s such a pervy thing to do.

Brooke also looked amazed at how fantastic the dress looked on her. “You look absolutely incredible! Did you see yourself, Susan? Did you actually look at yourself in the mirror?”

“I was surprised that it actually went over my hips,” Abby’s mother said, looking down at herself. “At forty-four, I’m a bit more voluptuous, shall we say, than when I was in my early twenties.” She sighed and looked at herself in the mirror. She ran her hand through her shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. “Ugh now I have to decide what to do with this mop and do something with my face. You think you girls could help me out?”

Brooke clapped her hands excitedly. “Can we! I’m really good at putting makeup on people. Abby, how are you with hair?”

Now, come on! Did she really just ask me that? It’s like asking me how good I am at breathing.

“I think I’ll be able to handle the hair,” I replied, my eyes sparkling excitedly as I reached for a can of hairspray and a comb. Prepare to be dazzled, Susan Deluca.

***

“Oh. My. God.”

Brooke grinned. “You look great.”

“Oh. My. God.”

I leaned against the bed next to Brooke. Nodding, I said, “We do excellent work together, don’t we?”

“Exquisite,” she replied.

“Oh. My. God.” Abby’s mother simply stared at her reflection. Brooke had done wonders with the makeup, making her bright blue eyes stand out strongly against the black of the dress. Her lips were accentuated with a dark, glossy color and diamond hearts dangled from her small ears. I’d curled the ends of her dark blonde hair with a thick curling iron and paid special attention to the framing around her face. “I look half my age.”

She did look incredible. Why, if she were eighteen years younger…

I hate having a male mentality. I really do.

“He won’t know what to do with himself,” Brooke stated, winking at Abby’s mother.

I frowned. “He’d better remain a gentleman.”

“Oh, he’s a good man Abby. There’s nothing to fret about,” Abby’s mother replied, waving her hand at me. She took another look at herself in the mirror before turning her entire attention to us. “Speaking of well-mannered gentlemen, when do I get to meet the significant others of yours?”

Brooke instantly turned pink. “Taylor and Zac are just awesome… They’re handsome and sweet and polite and smart… Oh, and they’re so talented! Just yesterday they performed at the state festival and seriously, everyone went nuts!”

Abby’s mother raised an eyebrow and turned her gaze to me. “I hope these musicians know how to treat a lady.”

I love how she added that twinge of mistrust at the word musicians.

I am Taylor Hanson: Mother’s Worst Nightmare.

Oh yeah, I am so badass.

“They’ve been perfect gentlemen,” Brooke replied, almost sounding sad. My chest puffed up a bit. We sat in comfortable silence for a moment or two before Brooke stated, “I can’t get over how different you two look. I look just like my mother. It’s like we’re carbon copies.”

Abby’s mother lovingly touched my chin. “Abby is just like her father. She’s tall and thin like her father, has his dark hair and eyes, and is incredibly good at math and science like her father. She has the same sarcastic wit as him too. I remember Joe could crack us up for hours with his gentle sarcasm.” She winked as I listened in complete interest. Although, I think Abby’s sarcasm is hardly gentle. “This little girl here is not really anything like her old mom.”

I cracked my knuckles purposely, a small smile on my face. “I think we’re more alike than you think.”

Time passed and at about seven o’clock, the doorbell rang. Olivia had outright refused to come downstairs to meet her mother’s date and Abby’s mother tried not to look as crushed as she felt at Olivia’s refusal. Brooke and I tried to appear extra cheerful about it to get her mind off of Olivia’s issues.

“Maybe I’m not doing the right thing,” Abby’s mother hissed into my ear. Brooke and I were practically dragging her out of her bedroom now. “Maybe it’s too soon. I don’t want to upset you and Olivia…”

“Mom,” I exclaimed, tiredly. “You can’t live your life for us. I’m more than fine with this and Olivia is just being a heinous bitch so…” Brooke nodded in agreement.

“Oh, Abby, don’t call your sister names.”

“I won’t call Olivia names,” aloud, that is, “if you don’t chicken out. Now come on! You look great! Let’s go meet your date!”

“Wait!” She shrieked, ripping her arms free. Brooke and I gave her slightly agitated looks. “I can’t appear to be too anxious! Just…let him in and entertain him for a few minutes. I promise I won’t be too long…”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. But don’t take too long.”

Abby’s mother hugged us both gratefully and dashed back up the stairs loudly. Brooke smiled and we both instantaneously bolted towards the door. We were dying to see what kind of guy could convince Abby’s mother to venture back out into the terrifying world of dating.

When Brooke and I anxiously opened the door, I did not expect to see the man that was standing in front of us. A short man with an atrocious comb-over was standing in front of us, adorned in a tacky tweed suit. His comb-over consisted of about three wisps of graying hair strategically placed over an unusually shiny balding head. His big forehead was hardly offset by his enormous Drew Carey classes. Wincing, I noticed long black nose hairs protruding from his larger than life nostrils.

This geek of man was the one and only man that had caused Abby’s mother to give up her lonely life of widow-dom?

Brooke had a pleasant and polite smile on her face. I knew she was thinking the exact same thing as me though, and that would be ew.

“Please come in,” I said, when I finally regained the ability to speak. I was currently punching myself in the thigh repeatedly in order to refrain from laughing right in his squashed-looking face. “You must be Sam Berducci.” And he looked so familiar.

“I am, little lady.”

Tell me he did not just call me that.

I smiled tightly. I just wished that I knew why he looked so familiar. It was going to bug me all night. “Well, jolly gentleman, are you going to stand outside all night and catch cold or are you going to come in already?” Needless to say, I was not impressed by the weird man’s delightful sense of humor.

He stepped in and I led him to the couch. Brooke politely excused herself in order to check on Abby’s mother, but she should have waited until she was out of earshot before she burst out laughing.

I cleared my throat loudly. “Well, Sam, what is it you do exactly?”

The man looked at me intensely, his dark brown eyes twice their normal size due to the powerful lenses in his glasses. “Oh, well, no sense beating around the bush with mindless pleasantries I suppose.” This was not going to be a tough nut to crack. He was already showing signs of fear. “I am an Economics teacher at Dayton Academy and have been for about eighteen years now. Don’t you go to Dayton, little lady?”

I winced. Little fucking lady, indeed. “That I do.” Now I remember how I knew him! He was my Economics teacher! Rather, he was when I was still a boy!

And if this man is as interesting a date as he is a teacher, I should suggest that Abby’s mother bring a pillow.

“It’s such a lovely school, isn’t it? Some of the best and brightest attend the…”

“Let’s not get too chummy, Mr. Brown Suit,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. “There’s a few things I want to clear up before I allow you to take the lovely woman you were planning to take out, well, out. I can be a nice girl or I can be a mean girl, buddy boy. You better answer wisely or else you’re going to find out what pain truly is.” I leaned forward. “What exactly are your intentions this evening?”

Berducci looked as though he’d just dropped a load in his britches. Trying to recover quickly he said, “Well, aren’t you a lovely daughter to be concerned about your mother’s welfare…”

“Don’t sweet talk me Milton. You’ll discover quickly that I am not one who takes to sweet talking.”

Berducci coughed loudly. “Excuse me, little lady, but did you just call me Milton?”

My eyes narrowed. I couldn’t help but be overly pleased with my ability to make beads of sweat begin to form on his obnoxious bald head. There was no way that I was going to allow Abby’s mother to be offended, insulted, or harmed in any way by some idiot who thinks he can take advantage over a lonely woman.

“It seems as though you aren’t hard of hearing, which is a good sign,” I muttered, giving him my sternest stare. I was sincerely having way too much fun with this. I don’t know if Abby is starting to creep into my system or if this is just an evil side all my own. Anyway, I was having way too good of a time making this moron mess his shorts to stop right now. “Yes, I did call you Milton because you have a striking resemblance to that guy Milton in the movie Office Space.” I batted my eyelashes. “Have you seen it?”

This was the first time that he looked particularly angry. He quickly tried to cover his obvious dislike for me. “Why, yes, I may have seen it years ago.”

“That’s nice, so what are your intentions with my mother, Mr. Bird-hoochie?”

“Berducci.” He fiddled with his tie a moment. “I had in mind that we would begin with a nice evening with dinner at the Singing Dolphin.”

I rose my eyebrows. Swanky place… at least he’s willing to shell out some dough for this date. She’d like to go there, I’d wager. “Okay, Bad Gucci, that will be suitable I suppose. Now, after about an hour or so for dinner, what would you be planning to do then?”

He swallowed hard. “Berducci. Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t want to plan too much in case she didn’t like what I’d chosen. I was hoping we could choose together.”

I smiled tightly. “What you mean is that you want to use the time between dinner and the time you take her home to put as many moves on her as possible. You think I don’t know your game? Dude, I own that game. I invented that game, Milt. So you had better think of somewhere really nice and well lit to take my mother or you will be eating liquefied solids through a tube in your throat.” I got extremely close to his face. “You get me, Milton?”

He swallowed hard as I sat back. “Yeah, I get you…”

I sat back and smiled brightly as Brooke and Abby’s mother made their way into the living room. Abby’s mother, though slightly nervous, looked a lot more sure of herself as she faced Milton-excuse me, Sam. I’m guessing that Brooke must have given her a great pep talk. I smiled at the gorgeous blonde (well, the gorgeous blonde that was MY age) as she winked at me. She was so amazing.

“You look lovely, Susan,” Sam began, slowly standing to his feet. It was as if his tongue was about to fall out of his mouth and land on the shag carpeting. I rolled my eyes. He was probably the kind of guy who liked Star Trek and never got laid in high school. Why Abby’s mother would ever date a disgusting lump just completely eluded me.

I could hear Isaac’s nagging voice in my conscience now. Taylor! Did you ever stop to think that perhaps some people are above petty superficiality and can be attracted to those with other fine qualities? You are so short-sighted!

I miss Ike yelling at me for my superficiality.

But I think he may have sided with me on this one. It’s like Julia Roberts when she was with Lyle Lovett. I mean, what was that? At least Lovett was a musician. What does this man have other than a protractor in his front pocket?

Yes, he does. I saw it personally.

“You look great too, Sam,” Abby’s mother replied, blushing slightly. Sam graciously held his arm out so she could loop hers through his. I watched his hands very closely. “Oh, I see you’ve met my youngest daughter, Abby. I do hope she’s been a gracious hostess.”

I smiled sweetly at him as he gave me an uneasy look.

“She was very…charming,” he said, quickly ushering her towards the door.

“She’s such a bright girl! Did you know that she received a full scholarship to Dayton?”

“And did she threaten them to give it to her?”

Abby’s mother looked surprised and Brooke instantly shot a knowing look at me. I merely shrugged as if I had no idea whatsoever what was going on. I’m quite good at that, pretending I have no idea what’s going on. It’s an amazing power to have where everyone thinks you’re stupid.

“What? Threaten?” Susan asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Sam quickly said, ushering her closer to the doors of freedom. I gave him a dirty look. “Figure of speech. Ready to roll?”

I do believe the gent is scared of this little lady.

“Oh, yes. Ooh, wait!” Abby’s mother stopped him and turned back towards Brooke and I. “Dinner is all set in the fridge. All you have to do is nuke it in the microwave for about four minutes. Oh, and make sure Olivia eats something. I don’t want her to go hungry because she’s upset.”

I don’t think you have to worry about darling Olivia going hungry.

Sam smiled politely, obviously ready to get going. I can’t imagine why he’d be anxious to leave so soon. “You have a third daughter, Susan?”

Abby’s mother chuckled. “Oh, goodness no! This lovely blonde child is merely borrowed.” Brooke blushed and looked away. “Olivia, well, she’s…um…Abby’s the hostess. She’s the nice one.”

Sam looked like he was going to be sick. “Abby’s the nice one?” Susan shot him a look. “Oh, well, she is such a delight. Are we ready?”

“Yes, I believe I am all set.”

“Oh, mother?” I called out, just a second before they closed the door behind him. Much to my pleasure, Sam looked positively disgruntled. “You have your pepper spray in your purse, right?” Abby’s mother gave me an amused look. “Oh, and we’ll be waiting up for you. Feel absolutely free to call home at anytime. Have fun, you crazy kids!”

They waved goodbye one last time before shutting the door behind them. I smiled to myself, convinced that now Abby’s mother wouldn’t have so much as a hair on her head touched. I had done my job as daughter fill-in. And I had done it well.