46. Brooke
46
***Brooke***
O n the third day after everything blew up in my face, I didn’t paint an office. Instead, I got summoned to the diner by Henry. He wanted me to paint the diner. Unfortunately, he didn’t want a mural. He just knew I could paint a giant wall and figured I’d be able to handle painting the diner. The place needed a new coat of paint and I didn’t have anything else to do so I agreed. Henry was going to feed me for two weeks as a trade for my work.
I started during the lull between breakfast and lunch, moving booths away from the back wall first. Of course, I was only able to work in peace for a little while before Mom and Aunt Karlene showed up to watch me and give commentary.
“You know, no matter what, you’ve got my ass and that’s something that should cheer you up.” Aunt Karlene was extra chipper. “You could’ve been stuck with your mom’s ass.”
“I have a great ass, bitch.” Mom scoffed and watched me with a critical eye. “Do you hate me, Brooklyn?”
I nearly stumbled off the stool I was standing on. “Jesus, Mom! What are you talking about? Of course, I don’t hate you.”
“Then why are you choosing homelessness over living with your own mother?”
I turned to face her, still on the stool. “First of all, I’m not homeless. Second of all, you told me I couldn’t live with you!”
“That was when Jimmy and his compression socks were living with me. It would’ve been crowded. Plus, your aunt told me to make you go live with your guys.” She pouted. “Then you stole Betty from me. I just feel like you hate me.”
“Ignore her. She’s got no Venus in her Uranus this week and she’s bitchy because of it.” Aunt Karlene waved her hand at Mom, dismissing her. “If anyone should be bitchy, it’s you. You’re having a shitty week. I have a feeling it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”
I scowled at her and then nearly fell off the stool when the front door of the diner opened and Logan walked in. I caught myself on the paint tray balanced next to me and flipped it. Paint flew through the air, drenching me from head to toe. I stood there for a second, refusing to look anywhere near Logan, and then turned around to continue painting. I scooped paint from my body and smeared it on the wall, all while fighting tears.
“Told you.” Aunt Karlene sighed. “He can’t be here. As long as he’s being mean to my niece, he’s not allowed to come to places I like. Hey! Get out of here, pretty boy.”
I cringed. “Aunt Karlene, stop.”
“Yeah, I’m talking to you. You think because you have a nice ass and a pretty smile that you get to hurt my niece and still come into this diner like you didn’t? Get out of here.”
I slipped and nearly busted my ass as I climbed down. “Tell Henry I’ll come back after the diner’s closed to finish.”
Without looking up at anyone I fled from the diner out of the kitchen exit. I stopped in the alley behind the building and just stood there, trying to keep it together.
“Brooke.” Logan’s voice was a stake through my chest. He’d followed me out. “Are you-”
“I have to go.” I hurried down the alley as fast I could in my paint filled boots. When I got to the street I stopped and looked down. My boots. They’d been with me through so much. They were ruined. I wasn’t going to cry. I’d cried too much. Sucking in air, I ran my hands over my hair and cringed when I felt all the paint.
Mom popped out of the diner, eyes narrowed. “You’re coming home with me. No daughter of mine is going to live in a store like that Wal-Mart baby movie.”
I didn’t have the energy to fight so I just shrugged and nodded. “Okay.”
“What are you looking at? You’ve never seen a woman in a mental health struggle before? Look away!” Mom grabbed my upper arm and started walking me down the street, yelling at people the whole way to her house. “I swear to god, it’s like these people have never had their heart broken and then paint spilled all over themselves.”
“Mom.”
“Keep that head up, baby. We’re almost home.” She marched me straight to the backyard and then made me stand still while she hosed me off. “He looked like someone had kicked his puppy. Not much longer and those boys will realize just how horribly they fucked up. Then they’ll come crawling back.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “They won’t.”
“They will.”
“Even if they do… It’s too late. The way they treated me… They believed that I’d cheat on them. They thought the absolute worst of me. They wouldn’t listen while I tried to tell them about losing our daughter.” My voice broke and I would’ve crumpled to the ground if Mom hadn’t been there to catch me.
“Alright. Here we go. Inside and straight to the bath. You need to soak and relax. Living on the streets has been hard on you, I can tell.” She patted my head the same way she had when I was little and the motion was so comforting that I lost the last ounce of strength I had.
“I just want it to stop hurting.” I took a shaky breath. “And I wasn’t living on the streets, Mom.”
“Sure, you were.” She led me to the bathroom and then undressed me. “Well, you’ve definitely filled out since the last time I put you in the bath.”
“Mom!” I finished undressing myself and sank into the steaming water after she ran the bath. It instantly eased the ache in my body from sleeping on the hardest mattress known to mankind.
“There you are. Just rest and relax. I’ll take care of you now, Brooklyn.”
I opened one eye and looked up at her. “I feel like you’re going to stab me to death when you say things like that.”
She splashed water in my face. “Ungrateful brat.”
I splashed her back. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Anytime, baby.” She looked at me with wide eyes and held up her hand. Moving it in a stabby motion, she made a ghostly sound and slowly backed out of the bathroom.