Free Tears on a Sunday Afternoon by Michael Presley Page B

anything else I could say. Emerald was advanced for his age. He tugged on my arm for us to go, looking at the watch on his hand.
    “Enjoy the movie,” I said as I left with Emerald in tow.

    Emerald opened the front door and ran upstairs to his bedroom. He already knew the regimen of changing his clothes and brushing his teeth. He also knew never to go into his mother’s room unless she told him to come in. It was a rule implemented by Annette, who seemed to run the house. Annette had also put a lock on the master bedroom door, which she utilized constantly. My son’s bathroom was adjoining his bedroom. Therefore, there was no need for him to enter the master bathroom. The door to my room was always open so he could come in and out as he pleased. I did very little but sleep in there so there was no need to put a lock on my door. The bathroom for the guestroom that I used was small. It held a shower with no tub, a commode and a washbasin with a mirror. There were two maids who came in twice a week to clean the house.
    As my son was running up the steps, he was met by his mother, who kissed him good night and promised to come and read him a bedtime story. She continued down the stairs as I made my way toward the refrigerator.
    I had flipped open a bottle of Heineken and taken a long swig when I encountered Lauren.
    “How was the movie?” Her robe was open, exposing her bra and panties. She looked like Dracula’s bride before she was fed.
    I grunted. I neither felt like seeing her body nor engaging in any pathetic conversation.
    “Donald, you know the situation we’re in. You’re not going anywhere and I’m not going anywhere. The sooner you come to that realization, the better things will be. We can be a normal family.”
    She went over to the electric kettle, filled it up with water and turned it on.
    “ Normal! ” I was heated. “This shit could never be normal. Like Kunta Kinte in Roots , I’ll always run away from this shit. You’re fucking crazy; talking about normal. If you look around, you’ll see that there isn’t a single normal aspect of our life. That bitch upstairs uses you as her punching bag. Emerald can’t come into your room and you have to come up with all these lame excuses why your eyes are bruised or your lips are swollen. Wake up; this is not fucking normal .”
    Lauren calmly poured the hot water over the tea bag in the cup. “And what you do is better than my situation? Putting your dick into each and every pussy you find is normal? I’m surprised that your dick hasn’t fallen clear off yet. If you die from AIDS, what will become of your precious son? If you love him and you want to save him from all this evil, don’t you think your behavior should change? Do you think that you would be any different if I wasn’t a lesbian? Hell to the naw! You would still be doing what you’re doing. You bastard; you’re sicker than me. You always have been.”
    “I doubt that,” I said, finishing up the beer. “Emerald is the only reason I’m here. Every night I pray that our brilliant kid doesn’t get fucked up in the head because of our situation. He doesn’t deserve this.”
    “Oh, and you think that if you take him out of this house and go out on your own with him he will be better off? Donald, you’ve got issues too. Just because your mother killed herself after your birth, you feel entitled to do what you do.”
    I was stunned as I got up from the island. “I never told you about my mother.”
    “You didn’t have to tell me. My father knew everything about you before I took my wedding vows.”
    “What does my mother’s incident have to do with this?”
    “Nothing, Donald, it means nothing at all. But the fact that you think that somehow you are in a better situation than me is ridiculous. You will be right next to me burning in hell.”
    I dumped the empty bottle into the garbage can. “To be honest with you, I don’t know if my son living with me will be the best thing for