Chapter 1- Fifth Installment

Deborah's two hours of sleep were not restful. Her dreams amplified the horror of the night's events. Travis' limp body lay before her minds eye, his gaping mouth would suddenly start trembling, with blood flowing freely from it's corners. His eyes, open wide, would turn to her and become larger as he began to whisper the name of Parker's father. Due to exhaustion, Deborah was not able to fully wake from her dream, and thus it repeated over and over again. Finally, around eight thirty in the morning, she was awakened by the meek and unsure voice of her little boy.
"Mom? Mom, are you ok? Mom?" Parker was understandably confused.
"Morning Honey." Deborah tried to sound casual.
"Why are you in my bed?" he asked bewildered.
"Well, I had a really scary nightmare and thought it would help to crawl in bed with you. You know, like you do when you have a bad dream."
"Did it work?" His green eyes lit up with the possibility that he had fought off his mothers bad dreams, just as she had done for him so many times before.
"It sure did! You're a great little dream warrior." She gave him a quick squeeze.
"Cool!" Parker's face twisted with concentration. "I wish I could remember what I did so that I could fight my own bad dreams."
"That would be great, but until then, you just keep crawling into bed with me. I kind of like it." Deborah tussled his hair and got out of bed. "You know what today is?"
"Pancake day!" He leaped from the bed and ran into the kitchen. Deborah took a deep breath, then followed him, reminding herself that she had to go on with life as normal, however difficult.
When she reached the back of her small, square house where the kitchen was placed, she found Parker setting out all the ingredients for homemade pancakes. She paused at the end of the counter and watched quietly, with a smile on her face.
Pancake day was a tradition her father started when she was around two years of age. She remembered cracking the eggs and pouring the milk. Her father never got upset about the eggshells in the mix or the milk on the floor. He would just laugh and hand her the beater. The tradition carried on until he left when she was ten. It was one of the few things she carried from her father to her son.
"Mom can we add chocolate chips today? Pleeeaaassseee?" Parker laced his fingers in begging fashion and batted his long lashes with evidence of far too much practice.
"Sure"
"Yes!" he shouted triumphantly, jumping once and running to the small pantry for the chocolate chips.
Deborah looked at the small dry erase calendar hanging on the refrigerator.
"Oh! I forgot!" She blurted out as she turned to look at Parker. "Today is your play date with Pete."
"Oh yeah! Cool."
Deborah was flustered at first, for reasons she could not explain. Then she calmed as she realized this would give her the chance to attend to the burning with out worrying how to distract Parker.
After breakfast Deborah sent Parker to get ready for Mrs. Peterson to pick him up. She reminded him to wear jeans with out holes and a shirt with out a stain. She felt a need to make sure Parker presented himself well when he went to play with Pete.
Marcy Peterson was the type of house wife that baked cookies, prepared little gourmet sandwiches for the children's lunches, hemmed her husband's pants, cooked a well balanced breakfast, and read her daily scripture, all before the kids or Mr. Peterson were even out of bed. Frankly, Deborah thought her annoying and often found herself gritting her teeth when in her presence.
Deborah always found a way to provide for Parker, and with little help from anyone. She took great pride in the small house she had managed to buy, and the limited luxuries she provided. She worked full time as the office manager for the joint office of the town library and recreation department. Her wage was just above minimum, but did offer health benefits and a retirement plan.
However, working full time, caring for a home and yard, and raising a child alone left little time for fancy meals and tea time at the Woman's Club. Half the meals were prepared in a microwave or out of a box. The house was clean, but would not pass the white glove test. Parker's clothes fit, but were well worn and far from designer.
And she rarely spent money on herself. Her wardrobe was a mix of office attire found at discount and casual wear. Her jeans often came from the second hand store and her shirts usually came from last season's sale rack. She wore her hair long and natural, because there was no room in the budget for regular styling and fancy coloring. In fact, it was her best friend, Annie, who cut her hair.
Annie was a flirty hairdresser at the only beauty salon in town. She and Deborah had been friends since the second grade, when Annie's family moved to town. Annie was one of the only people who stood by her through all the turmoil she faced at eighteen, and Deborah was very grateful to have her.
Their "Woman’s Club Meetings" consisted of Chinese take out and a movie rental. Sometimes they would do childish things; like painting each other's nails and giggle about who was hot and who was not. If either one of them was having an especially bad week, they would add a couple of beers and a few tears to the mix. But they always ended up laughing and saying good night feeling better.
Annie was always complementing Deborah on her parenting and hated it when she compared herself to Marcy. Deborah spent most of her life feeling judged, and Annie was always there to point out her qualities and successes. Deborah was sure to return the boost whenever Annie got down about her weight problem or her lack of male companionship. The two were each other's support group and biggest fan.
"Mom, where's my mitt?" Parker shouted above the sounds of toys being shuffled in his closet.
"Well, how would I know? I was not the last one to play with it." She called back from the kitchen sink. Parker’s room sat at the front of the house, next to the living room. Her room sat at the back of the house, next to the kitchen, with a small bathroom separating the two bedrooms. There was a small laundry room just at the back of the house, off the kitchen. On the right side of the laundry room was a door that led to the back porch. The porch cornered the house, and ran the length of the kitchen.
"Mooooooommm!" he cried impatiently.
"Okay, Okay! Did you try the back porch? The last time you played catch was in the back yard."
Parker ran by in a blur, letting the screen door slam behind him. Deborah watched from the window above the sink as Parker looked right past his mitt. She gently tapped on the window and pointed to the mitt that lay near the wood box.
She felt her heart race as she realized he thought she meant to look in the wood box. Panic hit her knowing that he would see her clothes and question why they were there. But her fears were quickly calmed when Parker tripped over his mitt as he raced to the wood box.
Her nerves on end, she decided to take Parker out front to wait for Pete and his mother. They tossed the ball around a bit and ended up playing tag. Just as they fell to the ground in a playful tackle, Marcy pulled up in her shinny new sport utility vehicle.
"Well good morning Debbie!" Marcy chirped as she jumped out to open the door for Parker. Deborah propped herself up on her elbows and felt her jaw tighten.
"Good Morning Marcy. Thank you for picking him up." She did her best to smile, and prayed it did not look as fake as Marcy's.
"Oh, no problem. I know your car is on its last legs, no reason to push it."
"Well I appreciate your consideration." As she stood to walk Parker over to the SUV, she could actually hear her teeth grinding. Once they reached the door, Deborah bent to kiss Parker's forehead. Much to her surprise he pulled her down for a hug.
"I like our car better, you can’t eat ice cream in hers." He whispered.
Deborah smiled and hugged him tight. She felt a lump in her throat as she realized what an observant and compassionate child he was.
After Parker sat down, Marcy immediately reached around to buckle him in. He rolled his eyes, and Deborah returned the annoyed look in silent agreement. She waved at Pete who looked embarrassed by his mother's compulsive behavior.
"So we will meet you at the park around four o'clock then?" Marcy perked as she closed Parker's door and hopped into her own seat.
"Well, with my car, all I can say is I will try." Deborah heard Parker giggle at his mother's sarcasm and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing when Marcy took out a piece of paper and wrote her cell phone number on it.
"Just in case."
"Thank you. Have a good day." And she waved to Parker as they drove off.
- posted by Cindy @ 8:36 PM |