Scales Chapter Three {Coming Home}

This is my third chapter. As usual, reviews are greatly appreciated.

  He always dreaded coming home after school. Coming home to his family. Or at least, half of who lived in his house was his family. 

At home lived his Mom, Elaine Davis and his stepdad, Jeffery Stone. And his "brothers". Well he had a brother, Ned, who actually was related to him. And there were Jeffery's sons, BJ (Brian Joseph) and Heath. But Ned seemed less like Milo's brother, and more like BJ and Heath's. 

BJ, Heath, and Ned were like triplets. All four boys were the same age, four months apart. BJ, Heath, and Ned had a reputation of partying late, drinking, cheating on their girlfriends, failing tests, and not turning in homework. 

And they picked on Milo about his good reputation almost every second they had known each other, when their parents met when they were seven. 

So as Milo pushed open the door to his "family", he couldn't help but worry about them asking where he was. 

"Hey, Milo." Mrs. Davis said cheerfully from the stove where she was cooking lasagna. "Where were you at?" 

BJ snickered, "Yeah Milo, we didn't get to ride home with you after school." 

The other two chuckled. Milo wasn't allowed to ride with them anyway. 

"I was... out." He said, tossing his backpack in the corner and unzipping his sweatshirt. 

"Be more descriptive." Ned encouraged. The three of them were sitting at the counter top of the Davis/Stone kitchen. "Use the description you use in those English essays Mr. Heart is always telling us about!" 

His mother shot Ned a look before saying, "Milo, where were you, Honey? Had me worried." 

He sighed and figured that the teasing would never get any better, so why not pass on the subject and tell the people where he was.

"I was at the book club." He answered, casually taking a bottle of water from the fridge and sipping from it. 

The rest of them cracked up laughing in hysterics as Milo stood there, leaning against the fridge, letting himself take it. He had absorbed so much of his emotion in the last nine years, he didn't know how to let it pour out for them to see. Milo Davis never remembered a time where he had cried in front of BJ and Heath. 

"Are you serious?" Ned asked between laughs. "That's the type of thing MOM would do!" 

"Yeah, Dude, only girls do the book club." Heath added. 

BJ punched him. "Shouldn't you call him 'Dude-t'?" 

They fell over laughing again. 

"I think it's very nice that you joined book club, Milo." His mother told him without looking up from the many seasonings she was adding to the lasagna. 

"Mother's approval!" Heath cracked and they were at it once more. 

Milo took his backpack and ran down the hall to his room, while hearing his mother say to the others, "Now do you boys really need to be such bullies to him?" 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Oh, I see." Her mother is on the phone at her desk. "Really?" She leans in the doorway, awaiting a chance to speak to her about something that's been on her mind all week. It's kind of urgent, making her nervous. 

She bites the tip of her already chewed thumbnail off with her teeth. The rest of her nails are just stubs, from all those nights she's been nervous before. 

Like every night she was growing up, when her father was around. It was always the same scene, night after night, when her mother's voice boomed around the house, her father's voice louder. It was always over the same sort of things: her mother accusing her father of not spending time with her and the kids; her father over how she was not supportive enough for his career. 

All those nights that they would fight, she would sit in bed, unable to sleep. No matter what time it was, how many magazine pages she flipped through, no matter how many doors she slammed shut in frustration, it was no cure for the pain and nervousness that she suffered through while her parents seemed oblivious. 

And those stubs of nails when she walked in on her father with his suitcase, like he hadn't even planned to tell her about his moving. She had stood in the doorway, exactly like she is now. And she was watching her father, who at the time was mumbling something to himself. And he turned to grab his suits out of the closet and saw her, a pale seven year old with long auburn hair standing, watching her father in the midst of leaving. 

He tried to explain, to sum up all of those painful arguments into ten easy sentences, but nothing would explain this to her. The only thing she wanted in that moment was for all of her pain to be taken away. 

And those stubby nails that she had when he walked out the door, his heavy suitcases in hand, hugged her and her siblings. It was a warm August night, but she shivered still. Her mom had refused to say goodbye with them, instead having waved from the stairwell and turned around to go to sleep. 

He had kissed her on the forehead and said, "I'll miss you. I'll see you soon, Max." 

And he had gotten into the car and driven away, not looking back. She had wanted so much for him to realize his mistake in the two seconds that he had before going out of her view. She wanted him to smack his head, say "What am I doing?!", turn around and roll up the driveway. She had wanted him to run up the stairs and kiss her mother and tell her that they would get through it, that they would work it out.

But he drove.

And kept driving.

And to this day, that was still the last time she had seen him. "See you soon" was no longer a promise. It was an overstatement. She hadn't even spoken to him in the last nine years that he had been missing in her life. And she had wanted him so much to be there for her. To come every weekend and tuck her in.

But with growing older came learning to accept things and live with reality. And reality was, Paul Tantillo wasn't coming back for her.

So right now, she urgently waits for her mother, chewing at her fingertips. Nervousness creeping through her body.  

"Oh you know I'll be speaking with her." Mrs. Tantillo says into the phone. "Oh, okay, alright, Leonardo. Alright. I'll let you go. Thank you for the call." 

Click. The phone is placed into its dock as she turns in her chair. 

Maxine takes in her appearance. Her mother's hair is in knots, reminding her of a bird's nest. And not a speck of make up is on her face, which is a surprise. She's wearing yoga pants and a T shirt, no shoes. And her eyes are drooping down her face like goo. 

"Maxine, I didn't see you there." She says, her voice scratchy as she turns back around and begins to sort through numerous papers on her desk. 

"I wanted to tell you about something." Maxine says, inching closer in attempt to gain her attention. 

"I wanted to talk to you too." She says, turning around again. "Sit." 

She pulls over a chair and sits in it promptly across from her mother. 

"That was Leonardo on the phone." She says, clearing her throat. "From Leonardo and Leann." 

She listens intently, trying to drown out whatever her mother is saying, because compared to what she has to say, it's probably nothing. 

"They have declined your acceptance into their business." She says, annoyed. 

"Oh." 

Her eyes narrow, focusing on her daughter and her daughter only. But right now, Maxine feels pressured, more like a client than a child. 

"You need to lose some weight." She instructed. It wasn't a question, wasn't an option. It was spoken directly, the way somebody would tell a dog to sit or stay. "You need to go on a diet." 

It hits her like somebody threw a rock at her stomach. So hard to take in. She feels like bringing her fingernails to her teeth and biting. Biting hard. But she doesn't. For some reason, she sits there and takes it. 

"Starting today, no yummy foods. You will be checking nutrition facts always." 

"I'm not fat, Mom." 

"Well you're not skinny either." She says, examining her own nails. "Listen, Maxine, no mother wants to tell her daughter she's overweight, but sometimes, when you're in the modeling business, it just has to be done." 

"I'm not overweight." She says confidently, like a fact. "I'm average weight." 

"Not for models." Mrs. Tantillo fires back. "If you want to book any jobs, you are going to be eating less, working more, understood?" 

Silence. She doesn't know how to respond to this sudden self awareness she feels. Peering down at her legs, they suddenly look mammoth sized. Much bigger than she's every pictured them before. 

"I said, 'Understood?' Maxine!" Mrs. Tantillo says sternly. "Do you understand?" 

"Understood, Ma'am." She says. 

A look of satisfaction washes over her face. "Glad you understand." She says. "Now, what were you going to talk to me about?" 

She opens her mouth, about to speak, when the phone rings. Her mother puts up one finger and picks up the phone. 

"Carla!" She exclaims. "Hey! No, I'm not busy! Oh my God, did you see the Real World?" 

Maxine knows this won't be one second, so she gets up and leaves her mother's office, feeling exhausted suddenly. She needs to talk to somebody. But she has nobody. Nobody to talk to. 

She knows Kevin won't listen. Neither will Jasper. And the only friend she has, a real friend, is Kyla, who is in New York, with her Father. 

So she allows her body to slide down the wall of the living room. And sits there, legs crumpled, puts her hands over her face and cries. Lets it out. The feeling of loneliness, the same feeling she felt when her father's car drove off into the August air, creeps into her body. 

That loneliness she's never succeeded in getting rid of. 

 

 

Author's Note

I would Really Appreciate Reviews!!