Read Identical Page 25


  like if he builds enough new

  neighborhoods, he might actually

  find a life partner in one of them.

  Conspicuously absent is Hannah,

  who helped pull this shindig

  together. Guess my big mouth

  made her fade into the background,

  at least until Mom takes off again.

  In hindsight, it was amazingly

  stupid to delete her from this

  complicated equation. Idiotic.

  Oh. Wait. Here she comes.

  Glass in hand, Daddy

  glances at the new arrival.

  His first reaction is to smile

  widely. Then he notices Mom,

  weaving through guests on the far

  side of the room, and his smile

  slips ever so slightly. Hannah waves,

  and Daddy moves toward her.

  Mom misses nothing, though she

  doesn’t miss a beat of conversation.

  But when Daddy reaches Hannah’s

  side, takes her arm, Mom starts

  in their direction. This evening

  might get interesting after all.

  I Angle Closer

  The last catfight I witnessed

  was my own, with Madison.

  This one should prove more fun.

  But, no, Mom remains the steadfast

  politician. She extends a hand.

  So lovely to see you again. Ray?

  Please get Hannah something to drink.

  Too subtly for the untrained eye

  to notice, she extricates Hannah

  from Daddy, who ambles toward

  the bar like a half-trained puppy,

  glancing back for trainer approval.

  I move even closer, knowing

  Mom is not about to leave

  things up in the air. I am so right.

  I hear you helped organize this

  evening, she says. Thank you

  so much. Then, smile slipping not

  one inch, she lowers her voice.

  I also hear the two of you have

  become rather close. I do hope

  you understand the nature of

  politics. Scandal will not

  be tolerated. My people will

  see to that. Perhaps a mutual

  decision to move on with

  your separate lives is wise.

  Mom pauses, but Hannah gives no

  immediate response. I wait for

  a threat. Instead Mom offers a bribe.

  I’ve told my personal assistant

  to see what he can do about

  your outstanding student loans.

  Hannah remains quiet for several

  seconds, as the weight of Mom’s

  words sinks in. She glances over

  at Daddy, who has found her

  a glass of champagne. He smiles,

  but she doesn’t dare smile back.

  Before he can rejoin her, she

  meets Mom’s steady gaze.

  And all she says is, I understand.

  She’s In Over Her Head

  And she 100 percent knows it. Mom will kick her

  figurative butt if she chooses to disregard the overt

  warning. Instead, play it smart, come out way, way

  ahead. Mom, of course, is truly the smart one.

  Give Hannah a way out, but make it clear

  she’d better latch onto it. Run with it. Run.

  Funny, because, wrapped up in my

  own little corner of the universe,

  I always thought it was Daddy

  who carried the power here.

  Now I see how wrong

  I was. Now I see why

  he wields such a big

  stick when Mom

  isn’t around. It’s

  the only way he

  can feel like

  even half a

  man.

  Daddy Returns

  Offers her the glass of bubbly.

  I keep my back half to them, at

  a respectful distance, but close

  enough to successfully eavesdrop.

  Daddy doesn’t notice me

  at all. So what did she have

  to say? he asks. I assume

  she issued some sort of threat?

  A glance over my shoulder

  reveals Hannah, sipping Dom

  and scanning the room. She

  said to take a hike. What else?

  I see. Daddy clears his throat.

  And do you plan to take orders

  from my wife? Depending on

  what happens tonight, she’ll—

  You said the magic word, Ray—

  wife. I’ve always known this would

  be a temporary fling. This is

  probably a good time to end it.

  She hands her glass to Daddy,

  kisses him softly on the cheek,

  starts out the door. He looks like

  he’s going to follow her, but…

  Just Then Someone Turns Up

  The volume on the television,

  where regular programming

  has been interrupted for an

  election update. The polls

  closed

  hours ago and returns trickle

  in. In the Twenty-fourth U.S. Congressional

  District, Kay Gardella currently

  leads with 52 percent of the vote.

  That comes as little surprise

  to me,

  of course. A cheer goes up

  in the room. Unless there’s

  a major turnaround, Mom’s

  got it in the bag. Looks very

  much like we’ve lost her

  for good.

  I look at Daddy, who is torn

  between running after Hannah

  and strutting beside his wife,

  the likely congresswoman.

  Guess who wins out. Hannah’s

  gone,

  he’s still here, where the votes

  are. I so despise politics. Pit

  them against family. Pit them

  against love. The Game conquers,

  always.

  Raeanne

  By Midnight

  Mom is declared the official

  winner. Everyone toasts, a final

  round of good cheer before the bar is

  closed

  for the night. Oops. Make that

  morning. I decide to join them.

  One more before beddy-bye.

  Despite several champagnes,

  sleep will not come easily

  to me,

  not tonight. I might have to

  tap into my pill stash. I ignore

  the well-wishers and reporters,

  go to the window. Hannah’s lights

  are out. Wonder if that’s over

  for good,

  or if Daddy will coax her back.

  If I were the type to wager,

  I’d place my bet on Mom.

  Especially now, despite the fact

  that before we know it, she’ll be

  gone,

  off to DC for the foreseeable

  (and perhaps unforeseeable) future.

  Who cares? She’s not here, even

  when she is here, now and

  always.

  Kaeleigh Has Withdrawn

  From the party, crawled away

  somewhere to sulk and cry.

  Not me. Fuck it. The more

  Mom’s gone, the less the stress.

  Always plenty of that, nibbling

  away at us. Who needs more?

  And hey, now that this election

  is over, no more good behavior.

  Ha! Like I’ve behaved so well

  over the past eleven months.

  And, really, with elections every two

  years, I’ve only got a year to be bad.

  But incumbents generally have

/>   the upper hand, so no worries.

  Shit, if I don’t quit conversing with

  myself, they’ll institutionalize me.

  I’m not conversing with myself out loud,

  am I? Okay, where’s the champagne?

  I Finally Limp

  Off to bed

  around two.

  No school

  tomorrow,

  I figure.

  We’ll still

  be celebrating.

  At least Mom

  definitely will.

  I’m celebrating

  pretty good

  right now, on

  two Oxy and

  enough bubbly

  to give me

  hiccups for days.

  Oh yeah, I’m

  floating, okay.

  But I don’t like

  how it feels. I

  desperately want

  solid ground.

  Like I’ve ever

  even once in

  my life stood

  on solid ground.

  The Telephone Wakes Me

  It has rung incessantly, but not

  enough, it seems, to wake Mom

  and Daddy, who partied well

  into the wee hours of morning.

  Their phones are likely unplugged.

  I drag myself from beneath

  the covers, head pounding.

  “Coming, damn it,” I call.

  Fighting an amazing hangover,

  I reach the idiotic phone. “Hello?”

  A very long pause precedes,

  Hello. This is your grandmother.

  Another very long pause.

  Long enough for anger to

  blossom inside my traitor head.

  “Oh, really? Well, it’s a little

  late now, don’t you think?”

  Come on, you old bitch…

  Excuse me? A little late for

  what, exactly? Who is this?

  I can’t believe I’m rising like this.

  Who cares, anyway? Loyalty

  to my parents? Definitely not me.

  Still, I continue, “A little late to ask

  for money. The election’s over.”

  Yes, I realize that. But why on

  earth would I ask for money?

  Who told you that, anyway?

  “Your ex-husband. He told us

  you wanted hush money.”

  My ex-husband? Ted? But

  why…? W-well, young lady…

  A voice, heavy and masculine,

  falls over my shoulder. Who

  is that? Daddy. Of course.

  I turn to face him, and what I see

  in his eyes chills me to my core.

  Don’t dare lie. “It’s your mother.”

  Daddy Grabs the Phone

  Out of my hand, and his intensity

  makes me back quickly away.

  If he lashes out, I don’t want

  to be standing in his path.

  But no, he’s relatively collected.

  This is Raymond. May I ask

  exactly why you’ve been

  bothering my family with calls?

  I can’t hear her response, but

  Daddy’s posture goes from

  wood to pulp. It’s like he

  shrunk sizes. Shrunk years.

  He’s a small boy, and he’s found

  his mommy again, only he doesn’t

  like the idea. Everyone is just fine.

  Thanks for your misplaced concern.

  Whatever she’s saying now hits

  like hammer blows. His breath

  comes in short, stuttered bursts,

  and his teeth crunch together.

  I couldn’t care less about your

  “programs.” I will never forgive

  you, and you will never be welcome

  in this house. Good-bye, Mother.

  Unable to Guess

  What he’ll do next, I start to

  retreat toward the kitchen.

  Daddy pounces, fists clenched.

  Why did you answer that?

  If he weren’t so angry, I’d have

  a smart-ass comeback. But as it

  is, I play humble. “It kept ringing,

  so I thought it might be important.”

  He draws right up against me.

  What did she say to you?

  “Nothing. Only that she wasn’t

  calling to ask for money.”

  His muscles relax, but only

  a little. Are you sure that’s all?

  “Yes, Daddy, that’s all.” I finally

  chance looking into his eyes,

  and this time what I find isn’t

  anger. It’s—can this be right?

  Yes, I’m right. It’s fear.

  The Bad Thing About Fear

  Is it requires a reaction. Some hide.

  Some cry. But, like a dog condemned

  to a walled yard with no hope

  of escape or affection, some learn

  to bite. Daddy is a fear biter.

  Lucky for me, Mom seems to sense

  the approaching maul and comes to

  my rescue. Good morning. Much too

  cheerful. Her head rocks back and

  forth between us. What’s going on?

  Daddy snaps out of his fugue,

  into the moment. Seems my

  prodigal mother managed to get

  one of her calls answered this

  morning. I took care of it, though.

  The congresswoman-elect

  searches my face for some

  kind of sign. Are you okay?

  At my nod, she detours Daddy.

  May I speak with you for a moment?

  They withdraw to the bedroom

  and I hustle into the bathroom,

  determined to reach there before

  last night’s champagne and this

  morning’s turmoil escape my belly.

  The Bad Thing About Puking Regularly

  Is how you come to rely on it.

  Hungover? Go puke.

  Feel a bit fat? Go puke.

  Confused? Go puke.

  Frightened? Go puke.

  Entire world falling apart?

  Hurry up and go puke.

  All of the above?

  Puke.

  Puke.

  Puke.

  Puke.

  And puke some more.

  Totally Puked Out

  Esophagus acid-etched,

  I’m ready to face the day.

  Not.

  Despite the insulation

  of two closed doors and

  a hallway,

  I can hear Mom and Daddy

  screaming insults at each

  other.

  I want her to leave now,

  leave us within the solace

  of silence.

  I so need to get high. But Mick,

  I’m guessing, is no longer

  an option.

  And that basically leaves one

  person I can ask for a buzz.

  Ty.

  I Dial His Number

  Get only his voice mail.

  Leave a subtle message.

  “Please call back as soon

  as you get this. I so need

  to hook up with you.”

  Sounded a bit desperate

  there. And guess what?

  I am. Downers are okay,

  I guess, but it’s not like

  you really enjoy the buzz.

  Mostly, you sleep through

  it. What fun is that?

  Besides, I need to feel

  desirable, not like a piece

  of furniture, something

  you can sit on. Something

  that belongs to my mom

  or my daddy. I need to feel

  like somebody wants me,

  even if he wants me for

  all the wrong reasons.

 
Mostly, I just need to feel.

  But If Ty Wants Me

  He’s playing hard to get.

  Hours pass without a word. I

  almost wish I would have

  gone to school. I wish Mom

  or Daddy would have asked

  why

  I didn’t go, but apparently

  they’re both so wrapped up

  in themselves (and wrapped

  around each other’s throats),

  it was too much effort to even

  notice.

  All I can think about are two

  things. One: Ty calling to say

  he’s on his way to pick me up,

  take me home, and spend

  hours doing crazy things with

  me,

  insane things that will carry

  us all the way down into hell,

  and maybe, just maybe, back up

  again. And two: this morning’s

  phone call. If not for money, why

  did my grandmother bother to call

  at all?

  Kaeleigh

  Three Days

  Since the election and things

  have finally settled down.

  Mom left for DC this morning.

  She and I still have no clue