"How the fuck is Dominos even a game," Becca asked, sitting at the island in the kitchen while Betty washed some fruit in the sink. Becca was turning the Dominos container over and over in their hands, opening and closing it.
"It's a game just like anything else is a game, sweetheart, because someone made some rules," Betty said, "I used to play it all the time as a kid, I haven't played it in years though. Then some fuckin' idiot decided to make Triominos, as if the word itself doesn't make you want to punch the game in the face." "Mom, geez," Becca said, chuckling. "Well, come on, how the hell do you play dominos when they're triangles? The triangle is the single most worthless shape, honestly. Squares and rectangles, they're everywhere. Tables, bookcases, televisions, hell even the shapes of rooms. Circles? Sure, coffee tables are circles, lamps can be circular, rugs are circular. But a fucking triangle? What does that do for anyone? The only things associated with triangles are negative things; the food triangle, the instrument, both of these are things nobody likes." "I had no idea you were so vehemently anti Dihedral," Becca said. "A polygon is a polygon, but the triangle is like the bastard child of the whole group. It's the kid you chain in the attic and feed fish heads," Betty said, "He smears his feces all over everything and you only let him down once a year for christmas." "This seems oddly specific," Becca said, putting the dominos down, now looking at their mother. "I don't like to talk about your brother much." "...Jason?" "...yes. Jason. Sure," Betty said, shifting her eyes and making Becca laugh. Just then Ernie came into the kitchen from upstairs, holding a box of things. Betty turned to looked at him, putting the fruit down and wiping her hands on a hand towel. "Where you want this stuff?" he asked. "What is that?" Becca asked. "It's some things of your fathers I'm giving away," Betty said quietly, making Becca get up. They walked over to Ernie and the box and started looking into it, digging through it a bit, their face contorted in disgust as they pulled some things out and looked between Ernie and Betty. "Why're you...?" "Because it's time to move on, kiddo," Ernie said, clearing his throat, "He's not here, so why keep-" "You are so fucking unsentimental," Becca said, grabbing the box from Ernie, "You're not throwing my dad in the fucking trash! He was your brother!" "My brother wasn't some old socks and books, Rebecca," he said, saying their name like a snake hissing, as if it hurt him to say it, "My brother is gone, and this is just material goods, alright? I know it hurts, but it has to be done eventually." Becca took the box and scoffed head, heading upstairs with it. Ernie looked at Betty as he took a seat at the island, looking at the dominos. Betty just shook her head, turned back to the sink and started washing more fruit. *** Jason and Amie were in her prius, as Amie drove towards his parents house. Jason had his elbow perched on the door and was looking out the passenger side window as Amie chewed on some carrot sticks. She turned the radio down and glanced over at him, concerned. "Hey," she asked, "You okay?" "Yeah, I guess," he said, stroking his incoming beard, "I just...you don't think I'm a fraud do you?" "What?" "I was at Whole Foods earlier, and these fuckin' kids in the line over where pointing at me and talking about how I'm a 'poser' or something, like...like I don't really care about saving the planet or conservation or anything, I just needed yet another identity to commit myself to. Like, how when you're a teenager you try on different identities until you find one you really think fits you, you know?" "Sure," Amie said, "But we're not that. Jason, posers don't drop everything in their lives and go on a Spirit Walk to discover who they are. If you were really a poser you'd have just bought an economically good car, gotten a native american tattoos, used a juicer and called it a day, you know? You wouldn't quit your job and fly to another country to take a long, good, hard look at yourself." "I guess," Jason said, sighing, "I just feel like sometimes I really am just trying to be a part of something." "We're all trying to be a part of something. We all play off one another, each one affecting the other, because we need to try and survive with eachother. And honestly, who cares what some fucking punks say. Be whoever you want, so long as you're not hurting anyone else." Jason smiled and watched her as she drove, the streetlights softly illuminating her face as they passed under them. For as much as Jason had loved Anna, still maybe did love Anna, he had to admit to himself there was something incredibly wholesome about Amie. It was nice to be with somebody who believed in things. Anna believed in things, but not with this ferocity, this intensity. She'd accepted the status quo ages ago, and had become accustomed to the way things were. Why rock the boat when the boat favors you so? But here was Amie, who was considerably a few years younger than Anna, and wanted to change the world and herself in the process. Whoever she was this month might not be who she is next month, and that was exciting. Jason wanted to be like Amie. As they pulled up in the driveway, they noticed another car sitting on the curb, and a young black woman standing outside of it. "Monica?" Jason asked, as they pulled up and parked. Jason got out and walked around the car towards her. Monica put her phone down as she saw him approach, and she barely acknowledged Amie. "What're you doing here?" he asked. "I'm picking something up from my sister," Monica said, "I've been so busy, but she said she could bring it with her tonight and I actually had the time off, so. What happened to you? You look like a vintage vinyl store took advantage of a Buffalo Exchange." "That's cute," Jason said, crossing his arms, smirking, "So what's she bringing?" "Wouldn't say, just told me it's something she doesn't want anymore," Monica said, "So where you been? I heard you were out of the country." "I went to Africa for a few months, kinda sort myself out." "Why the fuck's every white person go to Africa to 'find themselves'?" Monica asked, starting to look at her nails. "This is Aime, we met there," Jason said, as Aime shyly waved. Just then Anna and Ashley pulled up and parked. Anna got out of the car with Ashleys help, and while Anna waited by the car, Ashley opened the trunk and, eyes locked with Jason, scowl on her face, she picked up a large, weathered trunk and started to carry it over to Monica, who took it, a surprised look on her face. "This better not be something you stole from some old guy who runs a voodoo store," Monica said, making Anna chuckle; Monica then turned to Jason and smiled, before adding, "Well, see ya around. Glad to see you're doing better." As Monica walked down the driveway, Anna approached Jason and, a mere inch apart, looking into one anothers eyes, Jason spoke through gritted teeth. "How could you give her that?" he asked. "Very easily," Anna said. "What was it?" Amie asked "Can we just go inside?" Ashley said, rubbing her arms from the cold outside. "Not just yet," Jason said, snapping at his sister before turning back to his ex wife, "You owe me an explanation. How could you do that? You could've just give it back to me. You know what, nevermind, I'll just go home, because I don't need to be here." "Don't you a coachella concert to get to?" Anna asked, and Jason put his face right up to hers as Becca opened the front door and whistled at them. They all turned and looked at them, before leaving it and heading indoors. Inside the house, Ernie was already sitting at the table, setting the dominos up for fun, knocking them down himself as Betty brought a platter of cheese and fruit and crackers into the room and set it on the side table by the couch. Becca sat down on the couch, as Jason grabbed Annas arm and led her into the kitchen, with Aime following them. "How can you do this?" he continued to ask, "That was-" "You have no right to ask me," Anna said, "After everything you did, I have the right to be a little miffed, and you know what, it was mine, you gave it to me, so I can therefore do with it whatever I please." "What was it?" Amie asked, still curious. "What it was was none of your business," Anna said, before exiting the kitchen, annoyed. She took her seat beside Becca and Ashley, as Jason and Aime sat by Ernie and Betty sat in a chair, watching, the way she usually did. Ernie started the game, turning the dominos on their backs and shuffling them. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and grunted. "Alright so there's only like 4 players for this game, so I'm thinkin' myself, Jason, Rebecca and Ashley? Like core family, you know? Nothin' against you sweetheart, you're a doll," he added, patting Annas hand, making her blush. "That sounds fine," Aime said, "I just came for the fun of being here, plus I drove." "Alright so everyone take 7 from the bone yard and stand them up so nobody can see your hand," Ernie said, and everyone did as he did. Jason couldn't take his eyes off Anna, and she was too focused on looking at her cell phone to notice him glaring her down. "The bone yard is my new indie band," Aime said, chuckling as she sipped her water. "Aw, your manic pixie dream girl comes with state of the art personality action," Anna said, smirking. "Hey, I'll have you know that I am nobody's fucking plot device," Amie said, "Guess what? He decided to better himself before we met, alright? Not after, so thank you very much." "Well excuse me for insulting hipster Paul Bunyans taste," Anna replied, sighing as she shifted on the couch, "Tell me, Jason, are you really trying to change? Or is this just like that time in college when you decided you were into foreign film?" Jason looked at the game table as Anna leaned forward and cupped her hands. "He joins this group, right? They get together on the weekends and watch, then openly discuss, foreign film. Like a book club, ya know? He buys a beret, he starts wearing suspenders, he starts reading books on foreign film and acting like he's the end all be all on the subject when really he just still didn't know who he was or wanted to be. You can't just try on identities like they're suits off a rack, Jason. You're in your 30s, it's time to figure out who you are." "...You tried on an identity," he said softly, "Happily married wife and mother. So what the fuck do you know about who anyone is?" "Jason..." Anna said, "I wasn't happy because of me, not because of you. I hope you don't think all our problems were your fault." Nobody said a thing as Jason got up and slunk his way back to the kitchen. Aime sat in his empty spot, playing the game for him, glaring across the table at Anna, who did now look somewhat embarrassed. "And for what it's worth," Aime said, "Even if he did need someone else to help him be a better person, where's the ultimate harm in that? So long as he's not just using me as a means to an end, which he isn't, then who cares? We all need other people to help us figure out who we are. Maybe instead of tearing down who he wants to be, you should build up who you want to be." "You know," Becca said, taking some of the snacks Betty had brought out, "I agree with Aime, why is it such a bad thing to try who you want to be, even at our age? God knows the baby boomers stopped trying to better themselves...throwing away anything that means something just because it's 'stuff'." "Are you still fuckin' on about that?" Ernie asked, chuckling, "It was like some old books and socks and shit." "It was your brothers things!" Becca said, their voice rising in anger, "You can't just throw away things that meant something to someone you loved!" Anna suddenly felt a pang of guilt and looked towards the kitchen where Jason had gone. She stood up and started to walk out of the room and into the kitchen. Inside, she found Jason standing at the island, sniffling, drinking a carrot juice. He turned and looked at her, and she lowered her head. "I'm sorry," she said softly, "I guess I'm not really being very nice about this. I thought I could handle seeing you with someone else, but it's harder than I thought it would be. I don't want to get back together, but I still feel like we're married." "Aime is a person, Anna, she's not a tool used by 40 year old man children who are looking to cure their inescapable sadness they think is caused by the fact they feel owed sex," Jason said, "She's a person. I decided to become better before we met, she's not wrong, and you know what? She's encouraging me to do it. She's got her own dreams and her own job and her own life. But what are you doing? Oh no, let's look at the poor, pregnant woman who wouldn't even TALK to her husband, even though he tried to change for her and himself. You're the same catty, angry woman you've been for years now, except now you're sleeping with my sister." "...I'm sorry, Jason, I-" "I don't want apologies. Amie said on the ride over here that we're all playing off one another, that we all affect one another in some way or another, and she's not wrong. I did terrible things Anna, and I am now taking responsibility for them, but the terrible things I did have changed you, and you need to decide if you want to become a better person too, or if you want to stay this way. Everyone around you is changing and adapting. Instead of trying to figure out who I am, maybe you should take some time to figure out who you want to be." Jason turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Anna alone and without words. He was right. He was right in every sense. He'd tried so hard to change, and all she was doing was making a mockery of it, and now she'd taken something away from him and given it to her sister to hold onto. Something he'd given her. Something that she'd treasured. When she finally rejoined everyone in the living room, Ernie was winning, and the game was nearly over. Nobody said a word. Everyone was turning on one another again, despite all their best efforts not to, and Ernie couldn't be happier about it. *** It was soon after they'd gotten married when Jason gave Anna the trunk. He brought it into their bedroom one night while she was laying down and reading, and he put it on the floor. She got out of bed and crawled to the end of it, curious to see what was inside this enormous, weathered box. As he smiled at her, he opened the box, lifting the lid of the trunk up and revealing inside an old blanket, the color soft pastel purple. At first, Anna gave him a quizzical look, and he smirked. "I had to go through hell to get this," he said, "I had to talk to your sister, she's the one who actually knew where it was. It's your baby blanket." Anna felt her eyes tear up, her lip quiver. "I wanted you to have it to give to our child," Jason added, and the next thing Anna knew, she was on the floor on top of him, giving herself to him fully. Jason had been so different, but he'd always been different, changing all the time, and now when he was finally seeing fulfillment with himself, she saw a problem with that? It sickened her. Sitting in the car on the way home, she glanced over at Ashley and knew she'd made the right choice, and it was time for her to stop judging Jason for making the right choices for himself. *** Becca sat on their bed, looking through their fathers things, pulling each piece out. Ernie was right in one way, it was just stuff. Not even interesting stuff, just leftover junk that Harold probably wouldn't care if they got rid of, but to Becca, it was treasure. It was sacred. They pulled out a book, an old Sherlock Holmes novel, and flipped through the pages. A bookmark slid out, showing he'd never finished it, and then from the back cover, something else fell into their lap. Becca picked it up and turned it over, their eyes widening. It was an old polaroid, it was from a christmas morning, the three of them around the tree. Jason was playing with some action figures and Ashley was coloring. Betty wasn't in the photo, they clearly were the one taking it, because next to Becca was Harold. Becca was wearing a long shirt that went down to their knees, and next to them was an opened, abandoned box of princess stuff that was clearly meant for Ashley but she'd obviously tossed aside for something else. Harold was putting a tiara in Beccas hair, and giving a thumbs up to the camera. Becca had the biggest smile on their face, and suddenly tears were falling from their cheeks to their pants. Becca wiped them away, pushed everything off the bed and, holding the photo close to their chest, sobbed themselves to sleep.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
About
Family Game Night follows the Fuller family, a (possibly too) tight knit family who meet every Thursday night to play board games...and air their dirty laundry. Archives
March 2019
|