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He leans over and dabs at her bosom with his napkin, fussy and in no way sexual. He’s never come to her for such things; that’s what secretaries are for.
sounds like she dodged a bullet
“You’re not dying, stupid. It’s your monthly.”
She aint stupid if her own mother cant be bothered to prepare her for it
right up until four years later when the preacher’s son told her to do something else she didn’t expect, something else she didn’t really understand, and that knocked her up.
he doesn’t know about that part of her past. They’ve simply never discussed it. They’re not actually that interested in each other as people, but they both need something the other can provide.
There is no discussion of love or even fondness. There never has been. It’s probably better this way.
“Servitude for a period of ten years, and then you will consider helping me become a citizen?” Patricia peeks over Rosa’s shoulder. She didn’t see that part. “Yes. The judge will do everything he can—” “He told us that five years ago, and he has done nothing.”
haha exactly what I was saying
she isn’t sure how to feel. Fury with Rosa at her ingratitude or fury at Randall for asking her to deliver papers that apparently offer little more than modern-day slavery.
He doesn’t apologize anymore or make excuses or whatever. He just tells her about his day, even though she never answers. Like she’s his fucking diary. Again, like she’s just…a thing.
Her crooked smile is the saddest, smallest apology for marrying Dad and sticking with him, and it does not spark an answering, understanding smile in Ella.
The world is upside down and people are dying but as long as her husband is busy and making more money, it’s good.
I didn’t leave an abusive husband just to fall back under the thumb of an abusive, narcissistic mother.”
She can’t understand why Nana even wants them; she’s never seemed to care about them before, except as decoration. Her grandmother must be powered by pure spite.
It’s not a kind thought, but she hopes it was a woman that took Big Fred down. Give her what she really wants: a cure for all this violence against women.
Wow really? All the poor guy is guilty of is cheesy advertising
Everybody wants to be a hero while forgetting that they could randomly and for no reason become the villain.
Pepper is the…what’d they call it? I don’t know, but if you’re infected, it makes you storm. It triggers the Violence.
A strange new rage builds in her chest like a fire smoldering. Perhaps, she thinks, she won’t mind fighting someone after all.
“And we’re getting a divorce.” Patricia freezes. It’s as if a glass has shattered, something very precious and fragile and expensive, and there is no safe place to walk anymore.
“Real considerate of you to break the prenup like this.” His voice is almost a whisper and humming with—is that glee? The nerve of the bastard! “Bringin’ home children. I was thinkin’ about hiring some pool boy to say you’d been cheatin’, but this is so much easier.”
“But I did everything you ever asked.” She feels a fool, standing there, limp and empty, voice wobbling. He nods. “You did. And then you got old and boring and expensive. Consider the vaccination my appreciation for past service.”
dayum that that's cold
“And what about Iceland?” she asks. He looks back at her and shakes his head sadly. “Honey, I never even bought you a ticket.”
Dang why he gotta be so savage about it? lol you'd think he despised her this whole time
because kids getting attacked by their favorite princesses would be a PR nightmare.
Lmao. yea maybe a bit
“It’s my car!” Chelsea splutters. “My feet! My hoo-ha! I swear to God, I did not leave David just to get told what to do with my goddamn body again!”
Tell her! LOLOL
the speech he would give her about how he was only doing the right thing, which was of course whatever he’d personally decided was right.
he has a point, the responsible thing would be to turn yourself in so you dont murder innocents randomly but sure
Chelsea reaches for the cow patty and grabs a big handful of vomit and shit and lobs it right at his face.
Ewwww sick
But Chelsea knows two important things about Jeanie. One is that she is utterly devoted to her elderly mother, for whom she remodeled the downstairs master bedroom of her house. The other is that she hasn’t mentioned her mother a single time.
She doesn’t want her father to come back, and she knows Brooklyn is starting to think of him like some kind of god or monster, something big and uncertain and magical—in the bad way. Something to be charmed or feared as necessary.
The moment he hit her, Hayden became her enemy. And she will spend the rest of her life not letting him get anywhere near her.
It’s just how life works these days, choosing a contact and hitting CALL. Or, in most cases, texting, because calling now feels strange and awkward.
Looking back to that night, she should’ve known then what he was. Should’ve seen how he belittled her interests, was disgusted by the things she loved, ignored her friend except as a sexual object, welcomed her sacrifice as if it were his due.
A few times a year, whenever she thinks about it, Chelsea writes up an ad for the Tampa Craigslist Missed Connections, pouring her heart out to the Whitney she used to know, offering her sincerest apologies.
Ella knew for herself that what Nana liked best in a child was compliance, and apparently neither she nor her mom had lived up to her standards.
Ella took the beautiful dress and cut it in half with scissors so they couldn’t make her wear it again. That was the last day Nana was kind to Ella, the last day she gave her that special smile.
It’s hard, sometimes, hiding behind a fake smile, but it keeps her from being hurt.
Screens aren’t going to hurt Brookie more than, oh, say…Dad. Or Nana. Screens are a constant. They can be counted on.
She realizes now that in this silly fantasy, she always left her mom behind with Dad, a final fuck you for choosing him over the safety of her daughters.
“Don’t let little shits like that scare you. The world is full of ’em.
All the guy did was want to call the police on someone wanted by police. Not sure why he's getting name called
“Judging by the pale stripe of skin on your left ring finger and the way you flinched when I approached you, I’m guessing it involved running like hell from that old life.”
“Ms. Martin, we’ve all killed people. All of us. That’s what the Violence does. You black out, and you wake up covered in blood, and whoever had the bad luck to be standing next to you is dead.
Nana hasn’t spent much time with a kid who hasn’t yet been forced to make herself smaller to accommodate a cruel adult’s random whims.
Has no one ever taught her to…not cry?
“Anything can be poison if you misuse it. I know a girl who OD’d on Tums.” “Then she was an idiot.” “She was depressed, you asshole!”
She fiddles with one of her rings and holds her hand up to her face, and Chelsea is about to ask Amy what the girl is doing
Sniffing pepper
“This is how you stop it,” he says, gently. “Restrain them like this for long enough, and they go back to normal. But it takes a lot of weight, a lot of heat, a lot of tightness. There’s power in groups.
This is pretty smart
And then they’re all laughing the mad, giddy laugh of people who live in a world this insane. The pile is shuddering, people shifting this way and that and then steadying themselves.
Aww
“You peppered up, that’s what. Now get out of here, you little shit. You could’ve killed someone.” London’s face goes from surprise to cunning to disappointment as she works through what happened. “So I didn’t kill him?”
Wow you really disappointed huh?
Her mom killed Jeanie. With a Yeti cup. On I-4. Ella snorts, then snorts again, and then she’s straight up laughing so hard that her eyes water. This is utterly insane.
The only thing for which Florida Woman and Florida Man can be counted on is that a new Florida Man or Woman will supplant them within hours by doing something outrageous, stupid, or dangerous.
