Lucinda grunts as she twirls the spaghetti around her fork, the silverware clanking heavily against the porcelain bowel. She kept her composure as she glared next to her at the “empty” chair. Julianna should be here, she thought. Julianna– my daughter. My almost daughter. Almost if my horse’s ass of a son thought with the head on his shoulders instead of the one between his legs that he begged my father and him to get circumcised as soon as he turned 16, though that wouldn’t made a difference anyway. Georgie’s bipolar disorder always got in the way. Of school, of friends, of family, and then of Julianna. She saw it, as did we all, but she foolishly tried to get him help, which he refused. Instead, he constructed some over the top tale of getting tested and “probed up to a treadmill” to prove he was “perfectly sane.” As if any sane man would leave a woman for that.
That filled the void left by the chair next to Lucinda. Nessie– the soulless, vapid figure that took my son. Took him from her, is ripping him from me. Nessie– a danger to soceity far greater than he is, she plays victim to those around her to make my boy a bad guy and her an “innocent” victim. Any “innocent” wouldn’t look as evil as she does, as what she did, taking her “friend’s” boyfriend, destroying my goals and home. Ugh. Ehhh.
“Nessie,” Richard asks, sipping his glass of red wine. “Are you finally graduating community college this year?”
“Oh,” the half wit replies. “I don’t know, you know, what I want to do and all. Maybe next semester.”
“Hm,” he coughs. “Gee, I never heard of people endlessly staying at community college for 4-7 years. Except for you and my waste of life son.”
Smash! The plate originally in front of the girlfriend comes crashing on the floor, attracting the attention of two dogs, who lick up the whole thing.
“Are you crazy?” Lucinda screams. “You’re just gonna let my dogs eat that crap, that’s porcelain, Nessie, they can cut their insides up and die.”
“Your face can make me die,” Nessie spits. “I hate you!”
“How do you think we feel, you little bitch!” Lucinda snaps. “Richard and I were looking forward to having a real daughter before you came along, you and your white trash family, ‘divorced’ parents still living with one another while your whore mother sneaks off with her boyfriend. I never saw more of a piece of shit house in my entire life than when I had to drop you off for the first time. And don’t get me started on that, I knew what you two were doing. I knew. She denied it because she hoped it would end, that you were just another other woman who’d go away, my poor Julie had no clue you’d be the Anne Boleyn to her Catherine of Aragon, and calling you Anne Boleyn is an insult to Anne Boleyn herself!”
Maddening, Lucinda thinks. This girl is maddening! She gazes at Georgie, her son, not defending this creature as he once did, not fighting for her as he, her boyfriend, should. He always defended Julianna without question; this one not so much. I know he doesn’t love her, instead using her to drive him places since Rich and I took his license away. We thought it’d end with they got caught, then after a year. Yet a year turned to two, then three, now over four. Over four and we’re still playing this silly game and I have this trash living with us. And I see my son. I see what’s become of my son, my precious boy, once eager and full of life, now just a sad shadow of his former self. Not even 26 years old, and if beckoned, he’d already welcome death.
“You’re maddening my life!” she continues. “You’ve been maddening it for four years and enough is enough! Look! Look what you’re done to my son, he was actually full of life until he started doing whatever he does with you. You cry wolf on how he treats you. What about how you treated him. You cost him the love of his life and got jealous over what is now a shadow when you should be the bloody shadow. You should be long gone, not her. But I’m glad she is. Georgie, thank God Julianna isn’t here to see you, though I know she wouldn’t care. She loved you son, she really loved you unless this viper. You don’t love one another– you’re infatuated. Infatuated, I tell you. You act like you’re Isabèl y Fernando when you’re really Juana y Felipe, only the genders are reversed.”
“La lalalalalala,” Nessie mocks the poor woman, sticking her tongue out like a child before smashing the wine glass and skipping upstairs. Lucinda and Richard fixate their daggering stares at their son, who throws his head in his hands. His body trembles, his heart beating faster than ever. “Maddening,” he cries. “The bitch has got me maddening and it’s only getting worse.”
“It can end, son,” Richard begs.
“But only if you allow it,” Lucinda affirms.
“Mom, Dad, you don’t understand.” He lifts his tear stained face. “Julie left me, all my friends left me. I need someone to drive me places. I don’t want to me alone. I’d rather go mad with her than be made alone.”
The husband and wife look terrified at one another before holding hands in union. Maddening, each thought. Until a miracle happens, there will always be enough maddening.
via Daily Prompt: Maddening