Chapter 2: Lucy Sep 8th

Lucy crouched beside the recliner and unlatched the valve on Anothony’s catheter bag. The plastic hissed softly as the urine emptied into the pitcher she kept for this. She checked the line, wiped the spout, and tugged at the edge of his disposable brief, clean, thank God. No mess today.

“OK Anthony lets get you on the toilet,” Lucy said in her loud and forced cheery caregiver voice. The old man fussed, and then cussed but eventually gave in. Lucy helped transfer him to the toilet and encouraged him, but her mind was on the text message from her Mom: call when you get off work.

Truly this job wasn’t bad, how many people get paid $15 dollars cash to watch old westerns half the day. Sure about every other day she had to clean up this old man’s shitty ass, but back when she worked at the nursing home she had to clean up dozens. She should consider herself lucky, Gunsmoke would be on in 15 minutes and Anthony just managed to use the toilet. By Lucy’s standards It’s a good day.

Anthony stayed awake for the whole episode and they occasionally talked about it. She remembered seeing this episode as a kid. Sheriff Matt Dillion has to go pick up a Tomboy from a farm after her Dad dies in town. Her wild independent days are over now, she’s got to learn to be a proper woman. Lucy couldn’t help but think she’d be better off alone on the farm.

After cooking lunch and watching Bonanza, Anthony’s Sister showed up for her shift and Lucy was in her car calling her Mom. As usual no one answered. Lucy sighed and began the 7 minute drive out of town to her parents' trailer.

She parked in gravel and made her way across the yard. Lucy couldn’t help but frown at the sight of her parent’s home, the old trailer had seen better days. The wooden porch sagged and needed to be replaced. Her Mom’s large and cheery flower garden made quite the contrast to the rundown home it surrounded. She found her parents both tucked away in their recliners watching TV, both with their scrubs on ready to go to work.

“I tried to call Mom?” Lucy said, unable to hide her annoyance.

“I’m so sorry honey, you know how bad reception is here, metal roof and all. We were going to just stop by your house. I hate to ask, but can we borrow 40 bucks.” Her Mom asked.

Lucy’s brown furrowed, “Why do you need to borrow 40 bucks Mom?”

“Well your brother called us, and he’s got all the kids tomorrow night. They’re going out to eat and he asked if we wanted to go. You know I wouldn’t ask, but this is about the only way we can see them.” she explained.

Lucy could feel the rage building up, the jealousy, the red and green cloud of envy and anger forming over her eyes. “Seriously Mom, seriously?” she said.

“Just forget about it, I shouldn’t have asked,” her Mom says and looks away. Lucy couldn’t understand it, how in the world did her parents not have 40 dollars? They both worked part time and her Dad got social security now. Besides that, how could they ask her for this knowing how much it hurt.

“You know you should go, you haven’t seen your brother and the kids in a long time,” Lucy’s Mom said.

“That’s because I don’t want to see him Mom, and I don’t really give a shit to see his dumbass kids either.”

Lucy’s Mom huffed, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Lucy looked over at her Dad, his eyes were glued to the TV screen, checked out. “No Mom, I’m sorry. I’m being a bitch as usual.” Lucy took her wallet out of her purse and gave her Mom 40 dollars. She didn’t hesitate to take it.

It wasn’t really the money. Yes, every dollar counted for Lucy, but her parents always paid her back. They weren’t deadbeats, just really bad with money. It was the fact that no one in the world seemed to give a shit. 18 years of marriage, no kids, but her brother had six with two different women. It was hard not to be jealous.

On the drive back to her house Lucy turned up the radio trying to drown out her thoughts. “At least I live in a house,” she said as she pulled into her driveway. As far as houses go in Mud Creek it was nice, Just a bit out of town in a little subdivision. Small, but really too big for just her and Darren. Her eyes lit up at the site of a package in front of the door. She walked in and dropped her purse on their cluttered dining room table that was only actually used for dining twice a year.

“What have you bought Darren?” she said out loud as she opened the bubble mailer and took out the package of panties. “No. Fuck no.” she said and threw the package against the wall. “I can barely afford Hanes! And you're buying this shit! Son of a bitch.”

An hour later Darren Whitlock came in through the back door and immediately walked through the kitchen where Lucy was frying hamburgers. “Hi honey, I’m home.” he said and gave her a quick hug before heading through the house to the front door.

“Looking for something?” she asked.

Darren frowned, “Did I get a package?”

Lucy pointed to the package on the floor where she’d left it, then crossed her arms. “So you’re buying women’s underwear now?”

Whit blinked, and sighed, “Lucy…” He made his way over to pick up the package.

“Why did you buy those?” she said in a calm voice with a fake smile.

Whit shrugged, “Lucy… please just, drop it.”

“That’s all you’ve got? My name?” she snapped. “You can’t even lie about it? That’s where we are?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. His shoulders curled inward like he was trying to make himself smaller.

“Say something,” Lucy demanded.

“I…” He stared at the floor. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Oh, come on,” she said, stepping toward him. “You ordered panties. You know why. Just tell me.”

Whit shook his head, voice tightening. “I can’t. I don’t know… how.”

“That’s bullshit,” Lucy said. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

Whit winced.

“You’ve been checked out for months,” she went on. “And now I find this? And you won’t tell me why? You won’t even give me a bad excuse?”

He leaned against the wall as if he needed it to stand. “Lucy, please. I’m trying.”

“No,” she said. “You’re avoiding. There’s a difference.”

He flinched again, eyes damp. Lucy hated the way her chest tightened seeing it. It wasn’t sympathy, it was fear. Fear that she was losing him.

She turned away, grabbed her purse off the table, and slammed it down again. “God, I need a drink.”

Whit inhaled sharply. “Lucy! don’t say that. Please.”

She turned back. “Why? You can order panties off the internet, but I can’t say I feel like having a drink?”

His voice cracked. “You know why, we’ve been through this.”

“That was forever ago.”

“No it wasn’t.” Now he was shaking. “Not for me.”

She stared at him, suddenly thrown off balance. “Well it sure feels like a fucking long time for me!”

“I won’t go through that again Lucy, I won’t.” He wrapped his arms around himself, breathing too fast.

“Then tell me what the fuck is wrong with you, are they for your girlfriend, or for you?”

Darren scoffed, “I don’t have a girlfriend, you know that!”

“OK so they are for you, I guess you want to be a girl again?” Lucy saw that Darren was tightening, like a clock that had been over wound. “Darren, you should sit down,”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” she said. “You’re acting like you’re about to”

Before she could finish, Whit slammed his fist hard against the doorframe, which split with a sharp crack. Lucy jumped.

“Darren! What the hell?!”

He pulled his hand back, cradling it. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, sinking down until he was sitting on the floor, head in his arms.

“Jesus…” Lucy knelt in front of him. “Whit. Look at me.”

He wouldn’t.

She reached out, hesitated, then touched his shoulder lightly. “I’m sorry… I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know who you are half the time.”

He let out a choked breath, not quite a sob. “I don’t either.”

Lucy sat back on her heels, stunned.

The package of panties lay on the floor between them, a stupid pastel landmine in the middle of the kitchen.

Darren’s eyes focused behind his wife, then he jumped up, and ran to the smoking frying pan on the stove, “Shit!” he said as he pulled the frying pan off the burner.

“Goddamn it,” he said as he ran water over the smoking pan. Grease snapped and exploded.

Lucy began to cry, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said not really to Darren.

“It’s fine I’ll order a pizza,” Darren tossed the burned meat in the trash and picked up the panties on his way out of the kitchen. He made beeline for his closet and stashed them in a backpack where he kept a few other odds and ends.