Free The Perils of Pauline by Collette Yvonne Page B

presents. Donald receives a silk tie. I’m excited about a large box tagged with my name. I tear off the wrapping with great expectations only to discover an electric grill that looks like a giant clam. Just what I wanted: a waffle iron for meat. It looks like the same one I gave Mom for Christmas last year.
    How touching. My own mother has re-gifted me.
    As usual Mom is armed with highly unsuitable gifts for the kids: for Olympia, a marionette with a million billion strings that tangle as soon as you look at them, and for Jack, a giant box of fireworks: Li’l Red Devils, screamers, rockets, Roman candles and giant Mexican sparklers. Jack is jumping up and down: “I can get $15 apiece for the screamers at school.”
    Olympia immediately shrieks, “If Jack gets to take his screamers to school, I wanna take some too.”
    Good thing school has let out for the summer. I warn both of them that under no circumstance are any fireworks to be taken to school or anyplace else for that matter, nor are they to be used without proper adult supervision. No one is to touch them until after dark tonight when we can have a backyard show.
    I look over at Donald who steadfastly refuses to make eye contact with me. A little relaxed family fun and togetherness sure wouldn’t hurt right now.
    Mom wants to go over her itinerary: she’s dividing her summer vacation between Brian and Ted. Brian will accompany her on her cruise through the Greek Islands and then she wants to play golf in Pebble Beach with Ted “because Phil might be there” and she “misses him.”
    She leans down to pet Jasper, her aging, cranky, and incontinent Schnauzer, who crouches under the table, growling and baring his teeth at Donald every time he shifts position.
    “I was hoping you would take Jasper while I’m gone. I couldn’t bear to place him in a kennel.
    Donald’s head snaps up. Now he wants to make eye contact. He looks me in the eye in a way that says he is not on board with takingthe dog. I stare back at him in a way that says: Nice, Donald. And here Mom is your big fan, too. Donald says: Seriously, no. I glare back at him: Be supportive. Mom didn’t want to do anything much after Dad died. Now she’s just trying to get out and enjoy herself. Like Jasper, I want to lie under the table and growl and bare my teeth at him, too. I smile at Mom and say, “Sure. Of course.”
     
    Home at last. Jack and Olympia run ahead into the house with Jasper and George. Donald’s face goes all pissy when he surveys the state of his car. Jasper is a big shedder. George likes to press his nose against the windows. Olympia dribbled a trail of purple fruit punch clear across the back seat. In a fit of temper, Donald flings the offending juice box onto the front lawn.
    “Who is supposed to pick that up?” I ask.
    Donald ignores me and tosses Jasper’s dog blanket on top of the juice box.
    “You’re acting like the mess is somehow my fault.”
    “You gave Olympia the juice box.”
    “She was thirsty. How come your car is off limits? You don’t mind when my car gets trashed. You seem to think you are exempt from all this parenting stuff.”
    “Give me a break.”
    “No, I’m sick of this. Give me a break. You conduct your life as if you live in a hotel room with maid service. You come and go as you please and, when family stuff intrudes and I’m not on it, boy, someone’s head’s got to roll.”
    “What do you want from me?”
    Donald furiously scrubs at the juicebox stain with George’s blanket.
    “We could start communicating for a change.”
    “That’s rich. Communicate? You didn’t bother to ask me whether I wanted to look after your mother’s dog.”
    “I will take care of the dog, okay? Don’t worry. You won’t have to lift a finger. It’s not like you are around here to help much anyway.”
    Donald flings the dog blanket onto the ground and turns to me, his jaw clenched with rage. “You want me to leave? Give me five minutes, I’ll pack my