Gutter ***s
Lunch
Apartment full, bank account empty, this morning it was the complete opposite. I rest my head on my pillow, Tre and I made it. We got everything we needed before our parents' visit tomorrow and now I'm dead tired. The phone starts to ring but Tre gets it.
"Lisea." Tre says from the doorway of our room.
"Mmm."
"The furniture store just called to say that they weren't making deliveries tomorrow."
"What?!" I exclaim, lifting my head up from my pillow, "But the sofa, the kitchen table."
"I know." he says shifting uneasily. I let out a half moan half whine.
"What are we going to do?" Tre comes over to the matress and hugs me.
"We can buy pillows and tell them we're buddhist." he jokes. I rest my head against his shoulder, "We can borrow the sofa from Billie and Mike." the old sofa is horrible but I know it'll have to do.
"Yeah okay, but what about the table."
"Shit." Tre mumbles.
"Oh wait, maybe Anastasia has one at her apartment."
"Do you want help?" I ask the next day as Tre and Mike try to carry the sofa into our living room.
"Yeah." Mike groans.
"No!" Tre says with sudden energy, "You're pregnant." I roll my eyes and go into the kitchen to make sure we bought everything for the big family lunch to take place in a few hours.
"There!" Mike grunts followed by a thud. I go into the living room to find the two men sitting on the couch exhausted.
"Oh yeah," Mike says pointing at me, "Anastasia says its no problem with the table."
"That's great."
"Is there a corner store around here?" Mike asks.
"Yeah, down the street, why?"
"I need some more cigs." he says.
"I'll show you where it is." Tre mumbles as they stand up, "Lisea, you coming?"
"Nah, I'll stay here. In case one of our parents call for the millionth time."
"Okay, want anything then?" I shake my head and then they're out the door.
I flip on the TV and there's some sort of heart-warming TV special on. I go off to where the left over boxes are stacked up to find a sheet or something to go over the ratty sofa.
"Natasha was born with defects due to fetal alcohol syndrom." the TV douche bag recites as I re-enter the living room. I start to put the sheet over the sofa, when the woman who's supposedly Natasha's mother starts talking.
"I didn't know drinking would have such an affect on her." the woman says with a heavy hill billy accent. Just as I'm about to roll my eyes at her irresponsibility I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. My hand goes immediatly over my stomach. I didn't know I was pregnant for a whole month and a half. I fall to my knees and start crying as I see some video footage of Natasha trying to do normal kid things with difficulty.
"Mike went to get the table." Tre says as he enters the apartment, "Jesus Lisea, what happened."
"I drank!" I exclaim as he wraps his arms around me.
"You what?"
"I drank booze! The baby's going to be a retard because of me!" I cry.
"Lisea, you're being hysterical." Tre says trying to soothe me. He mumbles something about Billie saying something about hormones which would usually piss me off but I don't care, "Calm down." I do as he says, "Our baby is not going to be a retard. May was a really boring month, there weren't any keggers and besides you don't drink all that much to begin with."
"What about Mike's birthday?" I exclaim.
"It wasn't a kegger, you didn't get drunk."
"But I did drink!"
"I uhh, I uhh, I'm going to find Mike." he says nervously. I don't blame him, Mike is sort of his go-to man, I just wish he wouldn't be leaving me alone.
I breath in deeply and pull my knees in tight. I sort of tip over and lie on the couch watching the lifestyles of Natasha and hilly billy mom in absolute fear. Did I ruin the life inside me. There's a knock on the door and I spring to my feet and run over to it.
"Excuse me." Mike says carrying in a table. I look out onto the street to see the van parked outside along with a set of four chairs.
"Where's Tre?"
"Why are you crying?" Mike asks looking me over.
"Uh, uh hormones." I say quickly. He nods quietly.
"I don't know where Tre is." he says as he heads back at to get the chairs. It takes him less than a minute to carry them in.
"Thank you so much." I say looking over the table.
"Its no problem, good luck with the parents."
"Thanks."
"Well, I'm off." he says, "If you need anything I'll be at Ana's."
The second Mike steps out the door I burst into another fit of tears. I'm not sure how long I lie there pathetically on the couch but eventually Tre returns to the apartment with a few sheets of paper in his hand.
"Here read this." he says passing me one of the sheets. I read over a highlighted part. Fetal Alcohol Syndrome is caused by compulsive and binge drinking during the pregnancy. "You never binge drink!" Tre says proudly.
"Thank you." I say kissing his lips lovingly, "But where'd you get this?"
"Library." he mumbles, I give a semi-snort of laughter.
"Oh shove it."
"But Tre, I can barely behave in a library."
"I sucked it up." he says shaking his head, "Things I do for love." he rolls his eyes then bats them in my direction. I kiss him again.
"Crack." I mumbles, our parents will be here in less than half an hour, "I should make lunch."
"What's for lunch?" Tre asks as we head into the kitchen.
"Spaghetti."
"Oh good, that means I can help." he says grabbing a couple of pots from the cupboard. As he starts filling one of the pots with water I get the jars of pasta sauce from the cupboard. I grab the other pot and pour the sauce into it before putting it heating up on the stove.
"Now what?" Tre asks as we sit on the counter swinging our feet.
"We wait." I murmur as I rest my head against his shoulder.
DING DONG!
"Oh fuck." I mumble, "I hope its yours."
"C'mon." Tre says hopping off the counter, "Its like ripping a band aid off your cock, well uhh." he scratches his head, "You know what I mean, let's just get it over with." He heads off to answer the door. I lift the lid of the pot of water and see that its boiling. I grab the pack of pasta from another cupboard and dump it in before heading to the door where Tre is caught in a death hug by his mother. She lets go when she sees me though.
"Lisea!" she exclaims with open arms, I get pulled into her death hug as Frank Sr. takes a look around.
"Its looking good." he says to Tre, "Did you paint it yourself?"
"Yeah." Tre says rocking on his heels.
"She picked the colours I take it." he jokes.
"No actually," Tre says as his father inspects one of the light fixtures, "I picked half, she picked half."
"Do you have the baby's room ready yet?" Helen asks enthusiastically.
"Umm no." I say trying not to freak out at the fact that she's rubbing my stomach. "I need to check on lunch." I hurry out of the living room and into the kitchen.
"Lisea," Tre calls, "Your parents are here."
"Great." I grumble to myself as I head out to the living room where my parents are being introduced to Tre's.
"Lisea!" my parents says simultaneously a the sight of me.
"Uhh hey." I say as they each hug me in turn. My mom grabs me and puts whispers in my ear.
"I don't trust this neighborhood, the wall in the park down the street is completly covered in grafitti." I half feel like saying you should've seen where we lived before.
"Its fine." I mumble.
"Let's eat?" Tre suggests.
"If you truely love me you'll kill me right now." I say to Tre as we go to the kitchen to get the food.
"What? And deal with those freaks by myself?" he says as he dumps the pasta in the strainer. I ladel the sauce into a serving bowl as I try to have positive thoughts, "How about we just poison their food."
"Have you seen those cop shows? They can find out who committed a murder just by a trace of breath on a window or something stupid like that."
"Jail, parents, jail parents." Tre chuckles.
"Hey, keep in mind there is the death penalty in this state."
"Oh darn." he says dumping the empty pot in the sink, "Scheiza."
"Swearing in German now." I say cocking an eyebrow.
"I burnt myself with the pot." he hisses as he goes to run his hand under cold water.
"What's with the German?" I ask as I grab some plates from the cupboard.
"I am German." he murmurs, "I war born there. This fucking hurts."
"Right." I say opening the freezer, "And we don't have any ice."
"Ermph." Tre whines as he continues the run the water over his hand, "I'll be okay."
"Okay." I say bringing the food to the table.
"Was that swearing I heard?" Tre's mother lectures. This was going to be one long afternoon.
"Lisea." Tre says from the doorway of our room.
"Mmm."
"The furniture store just called to say that they weren't making deliveries tomorrow."
"What?!" I exclaim, lifting my head up from my pillow, "But the sofa, the kitchen table."
"I know." he says shifting uneasily. I let out a half moan half whine.
"What are we going to do?" Tre comes over to the matress and hugs me.
"We can buy pillows and tell them we're buddhist." he jokes. I rest my head against his shoulder, "We can borrow the sofa from Billie and Mike." the old sofa is horrible but I know it'll have to do.
"Yeah okay, but what about the table."
"Shit." Tre mumbles.
"Oh wait, maybe Anastasia has one at her apartment."
"Do you want help?" I ask the next day as Tre and Mike try to carry the sofa into our living room.
"Yeah." Mike groans.
"No!" Tre says with sudden energy, "You're pregnant." I roll my eyes and go into the kitchen to make sure we bought everything for the big family lunch to take place in a few hours.
"There!" Mike grunts followed by a thud. I go into the living room to find the two men sitting on the couch exhausted.
"Oh yeah," Mike says pointing at me, "Anastasia says its no problem with the table."
"That's great."
"Is there a corner store around here?" Mike asks.
"Yeah, down the street, why?"
"I need some more cigs." he says.
"I'll show you where it is." Tre mumbles as they stand up, "Lisea, you coming?"
"Nah, I'll stay here. In case one of our parents call for the millionth time."
"Okay, want anything then?" I shake my head and then they're out the door.
I flip on the TV and there's some sort of heart-warming TV special on. I go off to where the left over boxes are stacked up to find a sheet or something to go over the ratty sofa.
"Natasha was born with defects due to fetal alcohol syndrom." the TV douche bag recites as I re-enter the living room. I start to put the sheet over the sofa, when the woman who's supposedly Natasha's mother starts talking.
"I didn't know drinking would have such an affect on her." the woman says with a heavy hill billy accent. Just as I'm about to roll my eyes at her irresponsibility I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. My hand goes immediatly over my stomach. I didn't know I was pregnant for a whole month and a half. I fall to my knees and start crying as I see some video footage of Natasha trying to do normal kid things with difficulty.
"Mike went to get the table." Tre says as he enters the apartment, "Jesus Lisea, what happened."
"I drank!" I exclaim as he wraps his arms around me.
"You what?"
"I drank booze! The baby's going to be a retard because of me!" I cry.
"Lisea, you're being hysterical." Tre says trying to soothe me. He mumbles something about Billie saying something about hormones which would usually piss me off but I don't care, "Calm down." I do as he says, "Our baby is not going to be a retard. May was a really boring month, there weren't any keggers and besides you don't drink all that much to begin with."
"What about Mike's birthday?" I exclaim.
"It wasn't a kegger, you didn't get drunk."
"But I did drink!"
"I uhh, I uhh, I'm going to find Mike." he says nervously. I don't blame him, Mike is sort of his go-to man, I just wish he wouldn't be leaving me alone.
I breath in deeply and pull my knees in tight. I sort of tip over and lie on the couch watching the lifestyles of Natasha and hilly billy mom in absolute fear. Did I ruin the life inside me. There's a knock on the door and I spring to my feet and run over to it.
"Excuse me." Mike says carrying in a table. I look out onto the street to see the van parked outside along with a set of four chairs.
"Where's Tre?"
"Why are you crying?" Mike asks looking me over.
"Uh, uh hormones." I say quickly. He nods quietly.
"I don't know where Tre is." he says as he heads back at to get the chairs. It takes him less than a minute to carry them in.
"Thank you so much." I say looking over the table.
"Its no problem, good luck with the parents."
"Thanks."
"Well, I'm off." he says, "If you need anything I'll be at Ana's."
The second Mike steps out the door I burst into another fit of tears. I'm not sure how long I lie there pathetically on the couch but eventually Tre returns to the apartment with a few sheets of paper in his hand.
"Here read this." he says passing me one of the sheets. I read over a highlighted part. Fetal Alcohol Syndrome is caused by compulsive and binge drinking during the pregnancy. "You never binge drink!" Tre says proudly.
"Thank you." I say kissing his lips lovingly, "But where'd you get this?"
"Library." he mumbles, I give a semi-snort of laughter.
"Oh shove it."
"But Tre, I can barely behave in a library."
"I sucked it up." he says shaking his head, "Things I do for love." he rolls his eyes then bats them in my direction. I kiss him again.
"Crack." I mumbles, our parents will be here in less than half an hour, "I should make lunch."
"What's for lunch?" Tre asks as we head into the kitchen.
"Spaghetti."
"Oh good, that means I can help." he says grabbing a couple of pots from the cupboard. As he starts filling one of the pots with water I get the jars of pasta sauce from the cupboard. I grab the other pot and pour the sauce into it before putting it heating up on the stove.
"Now what?" Tre asks as we sit on the counter swinging our feet.
"We wait." I murmur as I rest my head against his shoulder.
DING DONG!
"Oh fuck." I mumble, "I hope its yours."
"C'mon." Tre says hopping off the counter, "Its like ripping a band aid off your cock, well uhh." he scratches his head, "You know what I mean, let's just get it over with." He heads off to answer the door. I lift the lid of the pot of water and see that its boiling. I grab the pack of pasta from another cupboard and dump it in before heading to the door where Tre is caught in a death hug by his mother. She lets go when she sees me though.
"Lisea!" she exclaims with open arms, I get pulled into her death hug as Frank Sr. takes a look around.
"Its looking good." he says to Tre, "Did you paint it yourself?"
"Yeah." Tre says rocking on his heels.
"She picked the colours I take it." he jokes.
"No actually," Tre says as his father inspects one of the light fixtures, "I picked half, she picked half."
"Do you have the baby's room ready yet?" Helen asks enthusiastically.
"Umm no." I say trying not to freak out at the fact that she's rubbing my stomach. "I need to check on lunch." I hurry out of the living room and into the kitchen.
"Lisea," Tre calls, "Your parents are here."
"Great." I grumble to myself as I head out to the living room where my parents are being introduced to Tre's.
"Lisea!" my parents says simultaneously a the sight of me.
"Uhh hey." I say as they each hug me in turn. My mom grabs me and puts whispers in my ear.
"I don't trust this neighborhood, the wall in the park down the street is completly covered in grafitti." I half feel like saying you should've seen where we lived before.
"Its fine." I mumble.
"Let's eat?" Tre suggests.
"If you truely love me you'll kill me right now." I say to Tre as we go to the kitchen to get the food.
"What? And deal with those freaks by myself?" he says as he dumps the pasta in the strainer. I ladel the sauce into a serving bowl as I try to have positive thoughts, "How about we just poison their food."
"Have you seen those cop shows? They can find out who committed a murder just by a trace of breath on a window or something stupid like that."
"Jail, parents, jail parents." Tre chuckles.
"Hey, keep in mind there is the death penalty in this state."
"Oh darn." he says dumping the empty pot in the sink, "Scheiza."
"Swearing in German now." I say cocking an eyebrow.
"I burnt myself with the pot." he hisses as he goes to run his hand under cold water.
"What's with the German?" I ask as I grab some plates from the cupboard.
"I am German." he murmurs, "I war born there. This fucking hurts."
"Right." I say opening the freezer, "And we don't have any ice."
"Ermph." Tre whines as he continues the run the water over his hand, "I'll be okay."
"Okay." I say bringing the food to the table.
"Was that swearing I heard?" Tre's mother lectures. This was going to be one long afternoon.