Free QUEENIE BABY: On Assignment by Christina A. Burke Page A

“I’m sorry.”
    “Me too,” he said and walked away.
    There was always drama at my sister’s. Always. “Thanks so much, Ashley,” I said.
    “Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the one with all the unresolved issues.” She picked up a handful of paper plates, plastic utensils, and napkins and shoved them at me. “Time to eat,” she said brightly.
    *****
    Dinner consisted of barbecued deer tenderloin with a few pieces of chicken for the not so adventurous (meaning me), potato salad, pretzel salad, cole slaw, baked beans, and an assortment of chips. Not going to win a healthy eating award, but good nonetheless. The sun was starting to fade and the temperature had dropped, but it was still pleasant to sit outside at the picnic tables. Made it feel like summer was just around the corner. I could almost forget the unpleasantness in the kitchen. Of course, it would have been easier if Rick hadn’t been sitting directly in front of me.
    I could feel his eyes on me. This was so annoying. Why did my sister have to arrange this reunion?  
    He was still staring. “What!” I said looking up.
    “Just thinking,” he replied cryptically. I ignored the bait. I was not going there again. He went on. “Just thinking about how things could have turned out a lot different if we had better communication.”
    “Well, that could be said about a lot of situations. But don’t delude yourself for a second into thinking we would somehow still be together if we were better communicators, whatever that means,” I said getting worked up. “We were eighteen and we had no business trying to plan out our lives together. It wasn’t going to work. Those situations never work out.” My voice had risen to a fevered pitch during my speech.
    “Sounds like you’re communicatin’ just fine now, Sis,” said Dan from the end of the table. His cronies chuckled and high-fived him.  
    “Shut up, Dan,” I snapped and gathered up my plate.
    “Look out,” he said, “Sis is getting fired up! Hold on to your cups everyone, she’s liable to knock ‘em all down.” Everyone including Granddaddy howled at that one. Geez, you knock one wedding cake over and nobody will ever let you live it down.  
    I dumped my plate in the trash and stormed off to the house. I locked myself in the pink and blue powder room and sat on the fluffy pink toilet seat cover. I stared mindlessly at the plaque on the wall asking patrons “who sprinkle when they tinkle” to “please be neat and wipe the seat.” Why was this getting to me so much? Was seeing an old boyfriend that mind blowing? Maybe there were some unresolved issues, but now was not the time in my life to go digging around in the past. I was focused on my music. Song writing was my great passion. Sure performing was fun and it paid the bills, but there was nothing quite like writing a song. The process was enthralling to me. Once I started I couldn’t stop. I hoped to one day sell some of my songs. That was how I envisioned my musical career progressing—not as some American Idol winning mega-star—but as a songwriter.
    There was a knock at the door. “Aunt Diana, I got to poop,” said Josh.
    “Can’t you poop in your bathroom?” I asked, standing up.
    “Tiffany stuffed one of her dolls in the toilet.”
    Great. “Just a minute,” I said. I washed my hands and straightened my hair in the mirror. “Time to go home, Diana,” I said to myself.

C HAPTER S EVEN

    THE PICNIC TABLES had been cleared and my brother-in-law was building an obscenely large fire in the fire pit. It was almost seven and the moon hung low in the star-filled sky. It was a shame I was feeling this way on such a perfect night. I loved a good bonfire. It made me feel young and alive; the smell of smoke, the crackle of burning wood, the contrast of the crisp night air at my back and the heat of the fire on my cheeks. Nothing like it. It reminded me of . . . .
    “Are you done pouting yet,” asked Rick as he came up beside