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I was nine when my mother and father had their first huge fight.
At that age, I was already used to them arguing over the most insignificant things such as washing the dishes or whose turn it was to pick me up from school the next day.
When I was younger, my parents didn’t always argue. They were quite happy. I can remember the times when my father would come home with flowers and chocolates just because it was Wednesday, or when he would take me out to Chuckie Cheese every year for my birthday. My parents seemed perfect for each other, and not once did they ever fight.
To my surprise, two days before my 9th birthday things started changing. They began when my mother went to the store for some groceries to cook dinner that night. Being a little kid, I wasn’t expecting anything asides from celery sticks and carrots.
But while Mother was in the snack isle searching for Campbell’s Chicken Noodle soup, since that was my favorite, she eyed my dad with another woman. The other women had short jet black hair, green eyes, and skin as luminous as birthday candles in a dimly lit room. She also had on pants made from spandex with a shirt that said “I love the 80’s” that instantly caught your attention. Although, the woman was really pretty, my mom didn’t jump to conclusions. Before my father departed that morning, he wore this navy blue suit and a coat, with a matching hat. But when my mom saw him, he had denim jeans, and a t-shirt that stunned my mother, forcing her to give a double take. She quickly hid behind a tower of grape soda, so he wouldn’t see her as she held the campballs chicken noodle soup and more importantly, as she spied.
When my father leaned in to kiss the women, my mother was startled, and dropped the soup on the floor by accident. She ran out the store as fast as she could and into the car. As she sat in the car she was thinking of how stupid she was for not seeing this coming. She recalled the times my father would come home smelling like perfume, or entering the house late, and those strange phone calls he said that came from his brother, which evidently sounded much higher than a man.
“Everything makes since now,” she said in her head.
Although she wanted to forget what she just saw, she stopped crying, and drove to the school to pick me up.
When she picked me up she hardly could speak. “H..ey H…honey, h….how was school?” was all she said. And every time she said her H’s it seemed as if she wanted to cry.
When we entered the house, she started on dinner right away without saying a word to me. I ran up the stairs and into my room, and began my math homework. About 2 hours later, my dad came home, right on time when dinner was ready.
“Where is everybody” he yelled.
“Daddy, daddy, your home” I replied, making my way downstairs.
“And how are my two beautiful girls doing?” he echoed
“Hey Greg, I’m good, and how was work”, my mother replied.
“Oh, it was good. But I’m tired. I was stuck in the office all day working on the project”
“Wow, so you stayed in the office all day without leaving, huh?” said me mother.
“Mhmm” said my dad nervously.
I came down and gave my dad a kiss on the cheek, and sat at the dinner table. As
I turned to my left I saw a tear run down my mom’s eyes.
“Mommy what’s wrong?”
“Uh… uh, nothing. Hey sweetie, um… run up to your room, me and your father need to have a grown up talk.”
“Okay”, I said mystified.
I walked up the stairs gradually, and stood in the hall, instead of going to my room like I was ordered.
“Lisa what’s wrong honey?” said my dad’s deep voice.
She sat down and began talking.
“Greg, how long we’ve been married? Ten years right,? Within those ten years I have never cheated, or even thought about being with someone else besides you. But now I don’t know what to think. I saw you today. And you weren’t in your office. You were in the grocery store with another woman. I saw you kiss her. How could you?”
I might have been young, but as soon as I heard those words, I ran down the stairs.
“Mommy, how could you? How can you lie about daddy like that? I hate you! I hate you!”
I ran towards my dad hitting him Yelling and crying vigorously, with anger.
“Daddy, tell her she’s lying. Tell her Daddy; tell her you would never do anything to ruin our family like that.”
My eyes turned red, and I was hitting him with my fist, trying to release my frustration, as he grabbed me trying to hold me down. But he couldn’t handle me. I was all over the place, and now hitting on the ground.
My voice became louder and echoed all throughout the house. That day I cried, and cried, and cried some more, until I finally fell asleep. But I spoke to no one that night, and locked myself in my room for what felt like days.
Down stairs I heard my parents yelling and calling each other inappropriate names.
Vases, pictures, cups, and plates were thrown across the room and landed on the floor which pressed against my ear drums.
The last thing I heard that night was my mom.
“Get out of my house Greg! Leave …or I’ll call the police. So much for forever and always,” Mom shouted her voice cracking,
“How did that make you feel?” My psychiatrist interrupted me, with her eyes darting towards the clock.
She than popped a wad of pink gum.
“Sad I guess. I miss the way things were before this happened. I think it’s like a taco. It’s there, but then after you eat it, it’s gone, and you’re still able to remember the taste right?
“Mhhm, I see”. She said.
She didn’t care. And frankly, I don’t see why I was so surprised.