The Morning After

I tossed and turned for 3 hours. Right, I give up. I slip on the pair of leggings Dan almost ripped last night, feeling along the seams for signs of damage. Nothing. I smile slightly to myself, remembering flashes of his hunger for me. Me. No one else existed at that moment but Rebecca and Dan. I shake out the thoughts, placing my hands on my stomach as it roils with a pang of guilt. I can count on it to slide in every morning after. No, it's over. We can’t keep this up. Whom am I kidding?

I wander through the house like a ghost. No one else would be up this early. I move slowly down the dark hallway. My sister Lorraine’s bedroom door is slightly ajar. Dan must have left it cracked when he snuck back in. She snores evenly, softly. Her fleshy arm dangles off the bed, causing her wedding ring to glint off the alarm clock glow, mocking me.

Dan is on his back, one hand resting over his chest, the other drapes casually over her hip. Mine, it says. No, you’re mine, I whisper back. The lie catches in my throat. I am always second. Second-born. Second-loved. Dan barely had to work for it. I turn away from Lorraine's doughy face before I wake her up and wander further down the hall. I peek into the children's rooms, watching them breathe open-mouthed, foreheads sweaty. Jealousy tingles along my breastbone. All I want, she has.

5:47 am, the Microwave clock shines at me. I will be alone for at least an hour. I drum my fingernails on the counter, waiting for the coffee to percolate. I’m not sure how I will stomach it, but I am making it anyways. I need something to do. Guilt is sitting low in my gut; my fingers are trembling slightly. What would she do if she found out? The thought swirls in my chest with guilt and glee. I would be horrified. And I would be shoving it in her smug face—the cow.

I fill my coffee cup, sighing. This is too much. My hatred is growing out of control, along with my lust. My patience is wearing thin. How much longer can we keep this up? I pull the creamer from the fridge, just as two arms snake around my middle. Dan pulls me in close, sealing my mouth in a kiss of morning breath and stale whiskey. I pull my mouth away. Gross. He isn’t phased. Baby, he breathes into my hair, making a few strands stick to my salty neck. I should have showered last night after he snuck out of my bed. His hands roam around me. Groping.

“Stop it.” I grit out. I smack his hands off me. “No more. Where is your wife?”

He Laughs at me. “Don’t worry; she is still asleep. I told you those sleeping pills she takes to knock her out do the trick every night. We could make love next to her; she wouldn’t wake up.” He whines a little, reaching for me again. I slip out from his grasp, shaking a finger at him. He laughs, stepping closer, running his hands along my hips. The fresh vision of his hand on my sister’s hip flashes in my mind, causing jealously to ricochet through me. I slam an empty cup into his chest.

“We don’t make love, Dan. We fuck. When I am visiting, and your wife is asleep. But we cannot do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.” I try to walk around him, but he drops to his knees in front of me, biting the fabric of my leggings along my thighs. My knees buckle a little. He does this every time. I try to end it; he pulls me back in.

“No, Dan. It’s really over this time.” The words are the usual script, void of conviction.

“I’ll give it all up for you.” He says between bites and roaming. His voice is straining, fingers exploring.

“No. You won’t. I won’t let you. She won’t let you.” I lean my head back, giving in. God, I wish. I wish we could just run away together.

A creak in the hallway. I glance to the living room, shoving Dan off me. He falls to his elbows, laughing. He is laughing at me. Like he has nothing to lose here. I make my way to the table, sitting down just in time. I lean back, trying to control my breathing as Lorraine pushes through the doorway. Her pudgy stomach catches on the jersey fabric of the knee-length nightgown, wobbling as she saunters in.

“Dan. You disgusting pig, get off the floor. How often do we need to be subjected to your slapstick comedy routines? They aren’t funny. The floor is filthy. Beckie doesn’t need to be entertained by you this early in the morning.” She heads straight for the coffee pot, not once looking my way. Beckie. Like a child. She still can’t get it right after all these years. Rebecca. It’s Rebecca. My hands squeeze over my mug with each syllable I silently chant in my head. Re-Bec-Ca.

Dan lets out a snorting laugh, lifting from the floor with his empty mug twirling in his hands. He turns his back on his wife, shoving two fingers through the cup handle suggestively. “Rebecca always needs to be entertained by me.” He winks at me. I blush, trying to shoot him a glare. I shake my head at him. I'm serious, I mouth. He blows me a kiss. He spins around and taps his wife’s butt, getting a blush out of her as she shoo’s him away. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. He loves me. He loves me.

“I’m going to make the kids some pancakes. Do you still eat those, Beckie? Or are you on some new stupid diet? Like you need it. Skinny bitch. You know, you will never get a man looking like a pole. All that yoga isn’t going to make anyone want to get in bed with you.” Lorraine keeps her back to me as she abuses me. Dan’s ears turn red with anger, but he keeps his mouth shut. I blow out a sharp breath, and I bite the nail from my forefinger right off. It was growing in nicely, too, since the last time I saw Lorraine. Dan smacks my hand away from my face as he sits down next to me. I want you, he mouths. I kick him under the table. He smirks.

It has been like this since we were kids. Mom Died when I was 15, Lorraine 18. Dad was lost in grief and absent in raising two girls. Lorraine took on the mother role so well, she never stopped. She doesn’t see I run a successful store; I have relationships, good friends. She honestly doesn't see anything about me. I am just a burden, a child to take care of. She doesn’t see her husband taking every chance to crawl into my bed. And I let him mainly because I love him. But also because I hate her.

“Are you here for money?” Lorraine's words anger me, making me cringe. I have never once asked her for money.

“No. I just wanted to see you. It’s been a while. I miss the kids.” Dan’s fingers trace up my inner thigh. I let him.

Lorraine snorts at my words. “Miss the kids.” She mocks me, using a stupid voice. “If you came around more often, you wouldn’t have to miss them.” Dan rolls his eyes at her words but shoots me a smile.

“We would love it if you came around more.” His tongue licks his lips. Subtle. I pull his hand off my thigh.

“You know it’s hard for me to get away from the store.” Dan snorts at my words. Hard for you, he mouths. I roll my eyes.

“Are you still playing around with that? I thought you would have given up by now. Got a real job.”

I don’t answer her. I’m grateful she has her back to me so she can’t see the embarrassment plastered on my face. Dan sees it, however. His fingers slip into the back waistband of my leggings and graze the top of my ass. His eyes flare as he realizes I am only wearing leggings. I let him touch me more, leaning forward as his hand grabs more flesh, dipping lower. Fuck his stupid wife. Let her turn around and see. He pulls his hand out slowly. More, later. He whispers, nipping at my ear. I nod. I can feel my cheeks pink a little. He pulls back, and I hide my face in my coffee.

Lorraine shuffles to the table, dropping a plate of pancakes in the center before she wanders off to gather utensils. Dan shoves an entire pancake in his mouth, causing laughter to bubble out of me. He tries to chew through the cake stuffed in his cheeks. A laugh pushes out as tiny bits of food fly across the table. He claps a hand over his mouth. I laugh harder. Lorraine stomps back over to the table, smacking Dan in the head. Her anger just makes us laugh more, causing her face to redden.

“You two are a couple of children! Stop that, Dan!” She smacks another pancake from his hand that he attempted to shove into his mouth, crumbs collecting on the table. “It’s as if I have four kids!” Dan raises his hands in apology. I snort a giggle, sending Dan back into hysterics. Lorraine stomps away from us, muttering about how dumb we can be.

God, I love him. He is so cute, with his pink cheeks stuffed with food, giggling. A sigh spills from me, and I shoot him a look. He winks in return. If only I had met him first. If only I weren’t 16 when they started dating. Lorraine was knocked up by the time I graduated high school. I never had a chance. All those years, I loved him from afar. His fingers graze my knee under the table. I close my eyes to keep the tears in. Lorraine doesn’t deserve him. He would be happier with me. I can imagine us together, giggling at our breakfast table with two kids. Both our cheeks stuffed with pancakes, making out. I hate her for taking that from me.

Tiny feet patter into the kitchen, and Lorraine heaves out a sigh. “I hope you’re happy. You woke them up with all your shenanigans.”

I take a pancake from the pile and rip it into small pieces. Lorraine laughs. “You never did like syrup. Even when you were little.” I ignore her. I focus on the tiny hands patting my waist, a small head with tangled curls tucking into my side.

“Auntie! Good morning!” A warm body squirms next to my chair and tries to get into my lap, kneeing me in the stomach.

“Good morning, sweet baby.” I cup Angela’s face and kiss her forehead. It’s all your fault, beautiful tiny thing. You should have let me be your mother. Lorraine has Dan Jr already seated. He waves a hand at me from his high chair. I lift out of my chair enough to blow a raspberry on his cheek. He squeals, and Lorraine kisses his toes, furthering his giggles.

Dan pulls Angela off me, tucking her on his lap, and gets a plate with pancakes for her. He grabs one for himself and shoves the entire thing in his mouth. Both kids squeal again, instantly copying him. Dan Jr only gets half a pancake in before Lorraine scoops her fingers in his mouth and pops the slobbery mess back out.

“Dan! You stupid asshole. The kids could choke!” The rest of us are crying, laughing; Dan Jr is trying to shove the slobbery pancake back in his cheeks, grunting, giggling, and screaming, fighting Lorraine in the effort. She eventually takes the entire wad in her hand and walks off, trading a cup of milk to soothe him. He calms as Dan rips a tiny piece of pancake for him to drool on.

“Momma, you said a bad word.” Angela’s face is serious. She is ignored.

“Get out of here, Dan. We have the barbecue this afternoon, and if the backyard looks how it does now, I’ll murder you in your sleep.” Lorraine cracks him with the towel as Angela opens her mouth to show her Daddy how much food is in there. He kisses her head, laughing with her. Her tiny hand claps over her mouth, giggling.

“I’m going; I’m going.” He backs Lorraine up to the fridge, a pancake trapped in his teeth. His words are soft, only for her. Within a few moments, she giggles and takes the pancake from him, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“They are always kissing. It's yucky.” Angela whisper yells into my ear.

“You’re right, baby. Kissing is yucky.” I try to look away, but I can’t; my chest pings with anger. Lorraine rights herself and pushes Dan out of the kitchen, trying to hide her blush.

“He is so frustrating. It’s like raising kids with a kid. I swear he couldn’t figure out how to button a shirt without me.”

He unbuttoned mine last night just fine. I let the thought linger for a moment. I just nod, looking down at my half-eaten pancake. He Loves Me. He Loves Me. He loves Me. The words feel harder to say.

“But, I guess I’m used to that, Caring for other adults. I had to wipe your ass until you went off to college. I gave up half my life raising you.” She shrugs as if her words are facts.

“Momma, you said a bad word.”

“Whoah, back up. You didn’t give up shit for me. You were out partying while I was in high school. And you gave up college for a shotgun wedding and a baby on the way.” I try to keep my voice even, but only half successful in keeping the anger out.

“Auntie, you said a bad word.” Her words are quiet. I whisper an apology, patting her hand distractedly.

“That’s not how it happened, and you know it. After Momma died, I had to step in to care for you. You were a child.”

“I was 15! I could take care of myself. You didn’t even stick around!”

“I went to school in town instead of out of state as I planned!” She sucks in a breath and waves a hand dismissively. “Well, I have everything. I’m blessed. So I guess it worked out.” She shrugs again, but she is pissed. I can see it. She wants me to buy this whoah-is-me story she feeds everyone, but I know the truth. I know.

I know Angela was a surprise, and she bailed on her studies. I know Dan already had a real estate business running. I know it was no sweat for her to marry him and lay back, letting him bring the money in while she got fat and mean. I know he loves me. Last night he whispered to me that it should have been me. Then he came on my stomach. Not the most romantic, I know that, too. But I know what he meant. He meant he loves me. I felt it. We just have one giant issue standing between us. Fuck. Where do we go from here?

“Momma, you said three bad words, and you didn’t tell Jesus you were sorry.”

Lorraine ignores her, but she softens her features. “You got yourself a Man?”

Yes. “Not really.”

“Not really.” She snorts. “Ok, fine, don’t tell me. I just want some gossip. I want you to be happy. Be in love. I want my children to play with yours. Don’t you want that?”

I want what’s yours. “I do. Someday. When I find what fits.”

She snorts again. “Maybe if you moved closer. Those big city boys are nothing but trouble.”

I feel my lungs closing up; I want all of that. “I’m going to go smoke.”

“Momma. That was four bad words.”

“Ok, I know, Baby. Let's say the sorry prayer together.” I let Lorraine’s words fade behind me as I wandered outside.

I take a seat on the porch swing, light a cigarette up and inhale for the first time this morning. Why did I come here? I glance around the backyard. Dan has his mower out, and he is leaning over the waist-high white fence, talking closely with a gorgeous woman on the other side. She is a tiny blonde with perky breasts and coiffed hair. She giggles as he leans in and whispers; his fingers are trailing down her hip. Mother fucker. He was standing like that with me only a few hours ago. His tongue snakes out and caresses her ear while his hand disappears on the other side of the fence. Too low for me to see and too low to be appropriate for a friendly neighbor. Her back stiffens in shock then melts. I. Cannot. Fucking. Believe. This.

It is supposed to be us. Just us. Only us. Rebecca and Dan, the star-crossed lovers. He loves me. He said. It was supposed to be me. He whispered it. He loves me. He has to. I suck in a lung full of smoke, coughing a tiny bit from the bite as it hits my throat. Dan turns his head, shocked to see me sitting on the swing, daggers shooting his way. He straightens, his eyes unreadable, but his hand resurfaces. He turns back to the Stepford wife.

The back door bangs open, with the kids spilling out. Dan Jr and Angela scream and run, hands wildly waving about. They run around in circles, Angela making a detour for Dan, and he lifts her, spinning her around. The perfect-breasted woman laughs with them, reaching to squeeze Angela’s outstretched hand. Lorraine huffs out onto the porch, dropping onto the swing next to me. She causes ash to drop in my lap, and I brush it away, cursing.

“That’s Tina. Poor thing, her husband left her for another woman. Can you believe that? Embarrassing. I would kill Dan if he even thought of cheating on me. I don’t have to worry about that. He gets it plenty from me. And he is such an idiot no other woman would want him.” She laughs at that.

“Please stop talking.” I feel sick. Are there others out there? Or just the three of us?

“He always has to go over there and help her with something, but he always jacks it up just like at home, and he has to go fix it again. He is such a stupid man. But I’m stuck with him. And he is so good in bed. It gets hotter every year.”

“Stop. I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”

She just laughs at my discomfort. “Well, then I guess you don’t want to hear that I’m pregnant. Again.” She laughs, rubbing her jiggly belly. “Dan loves when I’m pregnant. Can’t keep his hands off me.”

Dan turns around again, holding a wiggling Angela, and winks at me.

“That stupid prick is always winking at me. Probably horny again. I thought he had enough yesterday. He’s insatiable.” She smiles. She’s in love with him. Just as much as I am. Of course, she is his wife. All this time, I figured they hated each other. That she never gave it up. But it's not just me; it's everyone he can get his hands on. I'm just a number. He is a liar. A cheater. He dragged me down with him.

I look back over the scene before me, at her kids and Dan. The tiny blonde is fighting for attention, batting her eyelashes and giggling at his every word. The scene revolves around Dan. It’s all about him, all the time.

I am never coming back here. My guilt roils through me; I try to keep calm. Dan will never stop pursuing me, and I will never be able to resist him. I look back at Lorraine as she blushes and blows Dan a kiss. I see the perky blonde look down, trying to ignore the flirting. Lorraine looks back at me and smiles. I have to choose her. For once. Finally.

I lift off the swing. “Right. I’m leaving. I want to get back to the city early.”

“What? Are you serious? What about the barbecue?” I just shake my head at her words. “Typical. What happened to you 'miss the kids?' All this over a little teasing? Are you still mad I said I wiped your ass? I’m sorry, Beckie. Stay.”

“No, I just.” I sigh, trying to think of the right words. Fuck Dan. “I have a long drive.” I won’t ever come back. “I forgot about some purchases coming in.” Your husband is a weasel. “I’m sorry.” I look back at her. I’m really sorry.

“I’ll come out again soon.” I won’t. I won’t come back. I glance back at Dan as he skates his fingers over Tina’s yellow flutter sleeve. I have to choose you this time, Lorraine. Not me. I made a mistake.