Cocktails To Go
Mommy liked rounds of cards with boys. Two nights a week, she’d set up in her parlor, get several other ladies, and play her games. Aunt Bertie always put me to bed early, those nights. She had to play, too. Mommy’s rules.
I snuck down there. One time. Late. I wondered whether she played cards with boys different from the way she played them with me.
Sometimes, Mommy or Aunt Bertie played Go Fish with me, or Old Maid. Mommy even let me yell when I told her to go fish. I got so excited when I was winning. Like it was a way to beat her. She’d smile and draw her card and tell me to never forget what it felt like to be the underdog. Acting the underdog would get me far in life.
I didn’t understand, but in her Mommy way, she didn’t explain. She just kept on playing the game.
One day, I rummaged through her parlor desk, looking for a deck of cards to play solitaire. The name meant it was a card game I could play alone, and since I was left on my own so much of the time, I thought it would be good to learn.
I opened a drawer, the one I saw her store her boy cards in, and I found a deck of me. Pictures of my face on every card with scribblings and notes on the number sides. I was younger in the picture, but I remembered posing for it. Mommy made a big deal out of how I looked that day.
I stacked them up and took them to Aunt Bertie, back in the kitchen. I sorted them out on the table and asked her why she and Mommy played with cards that had pictures of me.
She scooped them into her hands and stacked them back together, really neat. “Don’t ask me about these cards again. Ever. I mean what I’m saying, child. Lawsy mercy. I need a cocktail to go.” Her hands were shaking when she left me to take them back to Mommy’s desk. To put them back just like I found them.
Welcome to Mommy Dearest, a series of fiction. If this is your first visit to the series, please click here to read the first installment and go here for the second installment. Thanks for your feedback on fiction posts. Your thoughts will help me make a believable character.
Have to say that’s quite freaky with the current amount of child abductions in the UK. You have a dark side, Andra, that’s for sure.
The need for redemption always comes from a dark place. This one may be darker than normal, but as long as the characters are fearless, I try to be, too.
My oh My!! There is evil afoot.
Seems like it.
Yep, this one is scary.
It scares me to think there are kids that have to live like this one.
Gulp. Can I take back what I said the other day? I no longer want to be Aunt Bertie. The flip side of Aunt Bertie is NOT who I’d want to be.
Sick tummy and tears filled my eyes. Andra, your writing can bring me to a glorious high one day and then take me to the depths of despair and depravity the next. (That’s a compliment by the way.) There are so many sides to people and you are able to bring them all to life (however, some I want to squeeze the life out of..). I want to take Penelope away with me and take care of her. Come on Penelope…I will take you with me on my bike ride this weekend…you will ride on my back and we will feel the rush of the wind on our faces and the sights we will see will be glorious (I hope the wolves, mountain lions, and bears don’t get us – we’ll ride fast – I promise).
Some of the strongest adults came from stuff such as this. And, some of the saddest. I am pulling for this little one, too. She needs a good adventure.
OH! The plot thickens. What were they playing with .Yesterday’s comment got eaten by the word press daemon. Sigh.
WordPress is being nasty again. You know I am not getting your emails, but you have also disappeared from my feed. You were there without emails. Then gone.
What is happening with the cards may or may not be revealed in this series. But, you will know someday.
The most frightening things can be found from snooping desk drawers.
As a child I was prone slide open my Mama’s desk drawer. That’s how I found her will, and her separation agreement. I think these were the first legal documents I ever read. The stark language frightened me. And I was 14 years old.
I’m glad I am on the right track. This was not my original approach.
Wow… that brought back memories of my own ‘snooping’. This is a good series.
Thanks, Ted. It is hard to write, but I’m enjoying the ride.
More please…
Bonita! I’m glad you’re enjoying it.
Wow, wow, wow, Andra, this is getting good–and deeply, deeply disturbing. You have caught my attention, for sure. Now I want to know more!
Hugs,
Kathy
It is a dark little story, isn’t it?
Oh, dear. I can think of no good reasons for those cards to exist.
Nadine (her mother) always has a good reason for doing things……for Nadine.
When I’m so late to comment I really enjoy seeing what others have said and your response. So you may not reveal about those cards? Oh, that will drive me crazy…so keep writing! I am really not yet able to formulate any assumptions, so I’m eager to keep reading for more clues. You sure come up with some interesting characters! D
You’re never too late to comment, Debra. I’m glad the story is interesting enough for you to read it.
Life deals you the cards, but someone is always trying to stack them against you.
Very true.
oh, no…
Delicious, Andra – just delicious in its intensity!