She doesn’t want a baby with me, she just wants a baby and I’m a willing participant. I just can’t believe I didn’t see it before now. All of her “attempts” to be a real couple that had my head spinning were, after all, a fucking ploy. What was it she said back in Vegas? She thought she’d be married by now?
Colleen has a problem and in rides Brad, the ever-willing participant. I’m sick of it. I just can’t keep going on and giving and giving. I just can’t be her rock when she needs me and a pebble that she trips over when she’s gotten what she wants. She is my entire world. My first memory in life is of her; and every important moment in my life has her in it—my pretty girl—and I want my last moment to be with her as well. But I’m so fucking sick of taking scraps and the little tiny bits that she throws me.
I’m done.
“Uncle Brad!” Sarah yells as she runs toward me. I bend down and scoop her into my arms. At the age of seven, she’s getting pretty big. She’s tall for her age, but so skinny; and she has this bright red hair, just like her mom.
“What’cha doing?” she asks with a toothy grin. I chuckle at her enthusiasm. I’m pretty sure she is the Energizer Bunny, because she never stops going.
“Just thinking,” I say.
“Oh,” she says, “well stop it. You look like you have to poop!” A real laugh slips through and I throw my head back. Sarah is never one to think before speaking; a problem which will likely get her in trouble when she gets older. She and Colleen may not share any genetic material, but they are so much alike in so many ways.
“Who’s that?” Sarah screams and tugs on my arm. I look to the sliding back door and see Vicky of all people coming out. Darla rushes over to her and hugs her. Vicky looks shocked but smiles anyway. I spot Colleen, Alex still in her arms, eyeing Vicky. She’s furious. I watch, alarmed, as Colleen stomps over to Vicky. At the last moment she plasters a fake smile on her face and gives Vicky a dainty hug.
Oh, so we’re back to that game, again?
“Brad!” Vicky calls to me, looking terrified as Colleen talks to her about God only knows what.
“Oh! The pretty lady knows you, Uncle Brad! Let’s go talk to her!” Sarah shouts, pulling me toward a still-stunned Vicky. We walk over and the look of terror fades from Vicky’s face.
“You’re pretty!” Sarah shouts. Colleen shoots her a dirty look. Is she seriously giving the stink eye to a seven year old?
“Um, thank you,” Vicky says, smiling at Sarah. “So, Brad,” she says through clenched teeth, “you invited me to this little family party?” I scratch my head and think back. Did I invite her? No, I’m pretty sure I didn’t.
“Vic!” James shouts and rushes over. A loud burp escapes him and the smell of hot dog and beer fills the immediate area. Damn, that stinks. Vicky snorts at him and gives him a quick hug. “You got my invite!” James is bouncing on his heels, completely oblivious to the glare his sister is shooting him.
“I did,” Vicky says, “any reason you invited me to a family event, James? Not that I’m not happy to be included,” she clarifies, but it’s obvious that she feels a little nervous about being here. I’m willing to bet that Colleen is most of the reason for that. Colleen gives her brother a questioning look. She, too, wants to know what James was thinking.
“Yeah, James,” Colleen snaps. At the sound of her voice, Vicky’s head snaps to her and the two women glare at each other. This is ridiculous. I won’t have Colleen ruining this barbeque just because she has to be a complete bitch when Vicky is around. I still haven’t forgiven her for what happened the last time they saw each other. Deciding not to chance another juice throwing incident, I grab Colleen by her elbow and escort her across the yard. Her head spins around to give Vicky a hateful look as I drag her away.
“You need to knock it off,” I growl.
“Or what?” Colleen crosses her arms over her chest and she smirks. I back her up against the fence and place my hands beside her head.
“You listen to me and you listen good, Frasier—you are going to be nice to Vicky because she’s my friend,” I say through clenched teeth. “You know, friends, like we are. Except that I’m not trying to knock her up. So please, be a little decent toward her, will you?” Colleen scowls at me, her jaw set and her chin in the air. She pokes my chest.
“And you listen to me, Patrick. I’m a Patrick now, too, so quit calling me Frasier! And as for Barbie Bitch over there, I’ll be nice to her when she stops trying to jump my husband!” I laugh at her defense.