Marianne by Elizabeth Hammer (best books to read in life TXT) 📕

it up. If you can’t make it work with him, then you’re hopeless.”

“I’m not going to mess up,” said Marianne.

Danielle looked down at her hands and started picking at her manicure. “What about when you do?” she said softly. She looked ready to cry again.

What, indeed? “Hell, I don’t know,” said Marianne. “He’d be free to leave, I guess.”

Danielle nodded. “He’d be free to leave, then.” Then she looked up at Marianne and smiled sideways. “Well... let’s just hope he doesn’t.”

“Yeah.”

22

Propaganda Machine

Friday came, and then another Friday… but the sex book remained. Marianne dipped her fingertips in the bowl of water and ran them along the edge of the egg roll she was wrapping. Maybe a little Chinese food would get Mom off her back for a while.

Dad walked in while Marianne was frying her chicken egg rolls over the stove. He kissed her on the top of her head. “Well, this is nice.”

“I hope they’re good.” She flipped a few over. “If they are, then I think you should clean up.”

“I always clean up,” he said.

“Right, right.” Marianne turned and pointed the tongs at him like she’d just remembered something. “Except that’s me you’re thinking of.”

He rolled his eyes. “Maybe we should make your mother do it.”

“It’s your house,” said Marianne, shaking her head.

“Mary, I’ve told you—it is not possible to burn down a house with a dishwasher.” He broke off a piece of a finished egg roll and tried it. “Your mother’s not a complete idiot.”

Marianne snapped her head up. “Ooooo… you are so busted. I’m gonna tell her you said that.”

He was undisturbed by her threats. “And then I’ll tell her what you said about the dishwasher. Who’s going to be busted then?”

“Me,” she mumbled. Marianne finished cooking and put everything on the table. She’d way overdone it. There was enough for three days' worth of dinners. She washed dishes while her parents ate.

“Sally called for you,” said Mom.

Marianne clenched her teeth. “I know.”

“Did you call her back?”

“I will.” Not. There was a big Goth party at the beach tomorrow. Sally had hounded Marianne about it all week. Marianne was avoiding her calls but knew that it was probably useless. No doubt Sally would just show up at the house and muscle her into the car.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” asked Mom.

“Maybe later.” Marianne dried her hands on a dishtowel. “I’m not hungry yet.”

“Well, what are we going to do with all of this?” said Mom. “It won’t keep—it’ll get all soggy.”

Marianne frowned at the table. “I’ll just take it over to Dan and Nana.”

“Okay,” said Mom, getting up. She separated the leftovers onto two plates and handed Marianne the small one. “Go take that to Nana. I’m not up to dealing with her today.”

Marianne took the plate and headed out of the room. She stopped at the doorway, though. Since when did Mom not want to see Nana? She was up to something. “Gimme that other plate,” said Marianne. “I’ll take it.”

“No. I’ve got it.”

“Mom,” said Marianne slowly through her teeth.

“What?” she said innocently.

She knew it. Mom was going to Danielle’s herself so she could talk to Patrick. “You’d better behave yourself.”

“Excuse me?” Mom didn’t like Marianne’s tone at all.

“Sorry.” Marianne looked down at the ground. Mouthing off to Mom was only okay when Mom was in the right mood. This obviously wasn’t the right mood.

“You’d better watch it, Marianne.”

“Mom, you’re going to embarrass me,” she whined. “I’m a grownup. This isn’t fair.” Nice. She sounded so very grown-up right then.

“I’m not going to embarrass you,” said Mom. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Marianne saw Dad snicker at his rice. “No,” said Marianne.

“Good.” Mom crossed her arms. “Then stop being a brat and take that plate to Nana.”

“Fine,” snapped Marianne. She reached over by the coffeemaker and snatched up Changing Bodies, Changing Lives. “But I’m taking this with me.”

Marianne stormed next door and gave the food to Nana. She stayed with Nana while she ate and tidied up the house. Marianne and Mom got back to the front porch at the same time. Mom grabbed the book out of Marianne’s hands. “Oh, stop looking at me like that, Mary.”

“Well, what did you say?”

“What do you think?” snapped Mom. “I told him to keep it in his pants.”

“Mom!” she cried.

Mom stomped into the house and slammed the door behind her. Nasty, meddling, temperamental meddling meddler. Marianne ran flat out over to Patrick’s house. She stuck her head in the door and knocked loudly. “Hello?”

Patrick came into the living room. “Hey. Nice job—even Michael’s eating it.”

“Oh, thanks.” Marianne came in and shut the screen behind her.

“Come eat with us,” said Patrick, walking toward the kitchen.

“No, I already had dinner. I just came to apologize for my mom.”

Patrick stopped abruptly and turned around. “Your mom said that you didn’t eat yet.”

“Oh.” Marianne bit her lip and scrambled for something to say. “I… I guess you’re right. I forgot.”

Patrick stared at her.

“Um…” Marianne touched her forehead. “I’m just distracted. I got in a fight with my mom.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “It was stupid. I’ll tell you about it while we eat.” She followed Patrick into the kitchen and saw the weirdest fricking thing ever. The kids were all perfectly silent, positioned like statues all around the room. But like bizarre, distorted statues. Reaching this way and that way, stretched out in uncomfortable looking positions. The baby was blowing raspberries and laughing at them from the computer chair.

“What next?” huffed Mickey. He had one foot on the side of the trashcan, one hand on the microwave, and one hand on the knob of the cabinet. He looked like he was in pain.

“Left foot on the counter,” said Patrick.

Mickey took his toe off the trashcan and bent around awkwardly to get it up to counter height. Patrick grinned at the look on Marianne’s face. “Kitchen twister. These kids need more toys; they were driving me nuts. Wanna play?”

“Yeah,” said Beth. “Wanna play? It’s fun.” Beth’s face was beet red,