Chapter 2

Mark was driving home with the radio blaring again, his hands pounding at the steering wheel as if it was his own personal drum set.

But his eyes lingered on the rearview mirror we could see those perfect little shingles in the back of his truck. He had tried to put it in the passenger seat, because he wanted so badly to keep the thing protected. It wouldn’t fit, so he was driving like an old lady now. Going barely over 15 miles an hour. That dollhouse was worth it.  Not one shingle would blow off, he told himself.

It didn’t matter the price tag, that thing was expensive. It had all of its tiny little furniture in a shoebox behind the counter.  He couldn’t believe his luck.

The shoebox was insane, Mark had barely even looked inside the dollhouse, but the shoebox… He had never seen such perfect we carved tiny intricate pieces. The drawers on the dressers all opened and closed. There was tiny little bits of food, and they all came apart and clicked together. The cherry on the ice cream sundae could be removed and replaced. He had never seen anything in his entire life so elaborate.

Whoever died and donated this thing to charity was his favorite person.

He thought about the look on Coralina’s face, he remembered when he was young he got a Nintendo sixty-four and he screamed like a maniac at Christmas, jumping and dancing around the tree. He remembered it vividly, while his dad said shut the fuck up from the other room. They even have it on tape… He thought he had remembered that part wrong because surely his dad would be sitting with them always opening presents on Christmas morning. But he wasn’t, he was in the other room according to the video. And yet, still when he watched that home-video that his mama made, he could feel the excitement exploding out of all of his limbs.

He hoped the Carolina would do the same thing – that she would jump and scream like a wild maniac, except he would be in the room with her. Because he was at least a better dad than his own dad – he hoped.

 

*****

He snuck the dollhouse into the drive into the garage, and then he popped his head into the house. “Hey Kelly?”

His beautiful bride came wandering out to the garage. She grinned as soon as she saw the dollhouse. And then, in typical Kelly fashion, she frowned and shoved him. “What the fuck! We can’t afford this.”

“I’ll skip lunch all week.” Said Mark. He put his hands up his as though they were in a hostage situation.

“All week? You mean like… For the rest of your life. Did we win the lottery? And if we did, why the fuck did you spend it on dollhouse?” Her eyes were sparkling, and even her tone had a laced amusement behind it. They cursed a lot at each other, but neither of them took it personally.

“Fuck, baby. Don’t get all touchy! I only spent eight bucks. And three was on this,” said Mark as he whipped out the bike seat.

“Oh?  So you robbed someone?”  Kelly retorted, her hands sitting on her hips like a power ranger.

“No.”  Mark couldn’t stop grinning.  “Someone priced this wrong at the thrift store.”

Kelly let out a scream of delight. Mark could not wipe away his own smile. If Kelly could get this excited, he could only imagine how Coralina and Beth were going to react. “You are insane.” She said, grinning ridiculously large.

“I want to set it altogether, and clean it it’s pretty dusty. I’m sure there’s some broken stuff on it’s a fixed it up tonight and hopefully give it to him tomorrow.”

She mimed walking her mouth and throwing away the key. Lynn she winked at her hottie husband, and went back into the house.

He spent an inordinate amount of time carefully unpacking every little piece of furniture. As he works, carefully dusting each tiny piece of furniture with cotton swabs, he wondered if Beth was quiet because she felt unloved.

Or is Coralina was loud because she felt unloved. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his stomach. He always had this feeling, like he should be doing more. Ever since he read those articles. Abuse travels down family lines. His dad was a rough man. And even though he made every effort to be gingerly sweet to his children, he didn’t really connect with girls that well. Probably why he married Kelly, because she was a tomboy at heart. They had gone hunting together plenty of times before they got married. He’d seen Kelly cut the head off the deer, like it was nothing.

It was hard for him to connect with little girls, even as he cleaned and prepped the massive dollhouse. Hell, it took all his effort not to curse in front of them. And he wasn’t even sure there was any reason not to curse in front of them. It’s like they were going to turn into serial killers if they said fuck at age two.  Or would they?  He would read parenting books in secret on his breaks, because he never wanted Kelly to know how terrified he was.

But still, it made him feel like shit when he screwed up.

The dollhouse had a bunch of pieces of furniture already inside it. There is a fireplace attached to the wall, and the stove and all the kitchen cabinets. The dining room table was adhered to the floor, and one chair on the side next to it. The chairs were in the box, and he carefully set them around the table. He tried to move the one chair that is glued to the floor, he had this idea that maybe he should break it loose so than the girls could move the chairs wherever they wanted. But as he touched it it flipped over on its back, and the table and suddenly popped open.

He was so startled he could’ve been knocked over with a feather. His mouth was agape, and he was holding back the urge to laugh really hard. He could not wait to show Kelly this. Holy shit he had gotten a good deal.

He looked inside the table, and there was a fragile table leaf, and three more chairs. Carefully pulled out the table leaf, and set it in place. Now the table was fit for a party. Carefully picked it back up to  slide it back in place, and it snapped in half.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck.

How could he do that? How could he have destroyed this intricate perfect little piece, with his big, fat, stupid man hands. He turned and clenched his fist so hard the veins on his hand in his arms started to pop. Slowly, he counted to ten. He would have to be hell of a lot more careful. With an exasperated sigh, he tried to close the table, but it wouldn’t close, not without the table leaf in place. The table leaf either needed to be inside the table, or on top of it. A pinch of anger bit between his eyes.  He barely touched it, and now the table was practically unusable.

Maybe he could get a replacement part?

He just couldn’t believe that he would break it right off the bat like that. What was wrong with him? He is why they can’t have nice things. He is why. Mark himself, not Beth, not Coralina,  not Kelly, Mark was the reason why they can’t have nice things.

He did not touch another item on the dollhouse, instead leaving it going inside.  Let it rot and grow dusty. He was too angry to touch the thing again today.