Love at 11 - By Mari Mancusi Page 0,12

whole time? While pretending to be a family man?” I demanded, not caring at my father’s cringe at the F-word. “That’s kind of a harsh way to put it,” he said in a sad voice. “I simply opened myself up to new opportunities. I guess you could call them affairs. But there was no deception involved.”

“Oh, right,” I said sarcastically. “Because you had permission.”

“Yes.”

“You’re a bastard.”

“I know. I soon realized the situation wasn’t fair to anyone—your mother or the woman I fell in love with.” Oh, now he was in love, was he? Anger burned through my stomach, and I rose from the swing. “I don’t want to hear this!”

“I know, honey. I’m sorry. This is a lot to take in.”

“So who is she?” I may not have wanted to hear this, but at the same time I couldn’t stop my overwhelming masochistic curiosity. “And is she really carrying your child?”

My dad looked old. Drained. “Her named is Cindi. With an ‘i’,” he added, as if that made everything okay. Cindi with an “i”? My whole world was turning into a bad made-for-TV movie. “And yes, she’s pregnant. You’re going to have a new brother or sister,” he added, as if that were a good thing.

That was it.

“You know what? Fuck you! You’ve ruined my life. You’ve ruined Mom and Lulu’s lives. Now you’re going to go start a whole new family and probably ruin their lives, too! You’re such a selfish asshole. I never want to see you again!” I stormed off into the house, slamming the back screen door with as much force as I could muster.

I wanted to throw things. I wanted to beat someone senseless. I wanted to drink myself to oblivion.

I took a deep breath. I had to talk to my mother. My poor, long-suffering, abused mother. If only I had known what she was going through all these years, I could have been there for her.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked Lulu as I entered the living room. No answer. My little sister was catatonic, crunched up on the floor, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth. Shit. I’d need to comfort her, too. How did I get stuck in the sane-person-who-picks-up-the-pieces role? I wanted to be the fall-apart-and-do-stupid-things one.

“Lulu, are you okay?” I knelt down and gave her a warm hug. Her body was cold. She looked like she’d gone into shock. But then she reached out her arms and hugged me back.

“I don’t want them to get a divorce,” she wailed, sobbing into my shoulder. I could feel nasty snot from her nose, dripping onto my new shirt, but I didn’t care. “I know. Neither do I.” I stroked her bleached-blond hair. “But it will be okay. Things will work out.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to figure out an entirely new living situation.”

She had a point. As much as this sucked for me, it was much worse for her.

“Why don’t we go talk to Mom?” I suggested. “We’ll figure out what’s what.”

“Mom left.”

“What?”

“Right after you and Dad went outside, she grabbed her car keys and said she was going shopping.”

“Shopping?” I repeated, like a dumbfounded parrot. “She went shopping?”

“Yup,” Lulu said glumly. She pulled from the embrace and slunk over to the couch. Plopping down, she pulled her knees to her chest. I was about to big sister her about grimy sneakers on the couch, but bit my tongue. What did it really matter?

“I can’t believe she went shopping.” I scrambled up from the floor. Could this day get any weirder? “Should we go after her?”

Lulu shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe she needs time alone.”

Maybe. I didn’t know. Was it a cry for help or a cry for new shoes? How could I be expected to know these things? I wasn’t some shrink. I had no experience dealing with the parents-divorcing scenario.

Lulu used her forearm to wipe the tears from her eyes. “I’m going upstairs to my room to call Dora. If Dad comes back in the house, tell him I’m not to be disturbed.” She got up from the couch and headed for the stairs. Then she turned around. “If things are really bad, can I come live with you?” she asked, her eyes wide and pleading.

“Of course,” I said, even though I didn’t really mean it. I lived in a cramped one-bedroom apartment in Pacific Beach. I had no room for another person and no time to parent my wild-child sister. Still, I was pretty sure Lulu would