Margaret jumped in the car and breathed a sigh of relief. Now her sort-of-mother-in-law would have to deal with the baby for a few days. She and Frankie could finally have some alone time again.
She grabbed her purse off the floor, buckled her seatbelt, and pulled out her cell phone. “Let’s go,” she said to Frankie.
“Where to?” he asked.
“My God, do I have to make every decision for you? Just drive back to our house. We can finally enjoy some peace and have fun.”
Margaret was sick of Frankie. Should they have the baby or not? He didn’t know. Well, they did. Should they get married or not? He didn’t know. Well, they didn’t. Now he couldn’t even figure out how to get himself home. It was really pathetic.
As Frankie drove along, Margaret scrolled through her phone for text messages. Then, she turned on the camera, took a selfie, smiled approvingly, and uploaded it to Facebook as her new profile picture. At least she didn’t have any baby-weight left. She looked good – and she knew it.
When they got back to the house, Margaret beat Frankie out of the car and hurried into the house. She grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed one to Frankie, who was finally coming up beside her. The beer felt cool sliding smoothly down her throat. She had missed this.
“What should we do?” Frankie asked.
“Just sit and watch TV? Is that what you want? Well, I don’t think so,” she pulled a cigarette out of her purse, lit it with one strike of the match, and took a deep drag.
“Then what do you have planned?”
“Let’s call some of our friends.” And by our friends, Margaret meant hers as Frankie didn’t have any friends of his own.
She quickly got on the phone and made some calls, taking in a second beer as she did so. By the time she finished, she had confirmed that at least fifteen friends would make their way over to the house.
She stubbed her cigarette out on the kitchen counter and grabbed Frankie’s keys. She would need some more beer.
“Where are you going?” Frankie asked.
“Just up the road for a beer run.”
“You want me to come?”
“No. Stay here and wait for our friends.”
She wondered why she couldn’t get a moment of peace to herself. If it wasn’t the baby, it was Frankie.
Margaret ran to the convenience store down the road and was quickly back with her trunk full of beers and a few cartons of cigarettes. She was in no hurry to return to the home she shared with Frankie, but then she didn’t want to miss the fun of hanging out with her friends. She missed them since the baby. She never realized what a downer having a baby could be.
She pulled up to the driveway of Frankie’s house and saw a few of her friends had already arrived. Within minutes, the beers were opened and the cigarettes were lit. Within an hour, fifteen friends had come to join the fun. Beer bottles were scattered around the house and cigarette stubs and burns littered the carpet. The entire house was tinged with a beer-and-smoke-odor. To Margaret, it was the sweetest smell and one that she inhaled with the fondness that absence creates.
“What is going on here? This place is a mess!” Frankie yelled.
“Don’t stress,” Margaret called to him. “It’s all good. You can clean tomorrow.”
“Like hell I will.”
Why did Frankie choose now to grow a pair when all her friends were here? She followed him as he stormed off through the door.
“What is your problem?” she asked him. “Nothing is wrong with me. I thought we were going to spend a nice night together.”
“We would be if you would calm down.”
“You’re messing with my house. It’s chaos in there.”
“Our house,” she countered, finishing off a bottle of beer.
“I’m leaving. If this place is ours, clean it up yourself.”
Margaret could not believe Frankie was being such a downer. How did she ever get mixed up with someone so green?
Then, Margaret got mad. She had his baby for God’s sake. And this is how he treats her? She can’t even have one free night?
“Get back here!” she yelled. “Screw you!”
Margaret ran to where Frankie was walking to his car and threw her beer bottle at him.
“What are you doing? Crazy!” he yelled.
“I’m not crazy! I’m trying to have a conversation!” She spun around, feeling dizzy and lightheaded from the alcohol and smoke. Other beer bottles lined the driveway – droppings from her friends’ fun night. She bent down and grabbed another. This time, she ran right to Frankie and rammed the bottle into his head, breaking it over his scalp.
“What?” he muttered, dazed by the blow.
“You can’t leave me,” Mar garet said. “You love me. We belong together.”
Margaret was fuming. All the months she had sacrificed to this loser. She bent down, grabbed another bottle, and slammed it into his head again.
Blood trickled down Frankie’s skull and a nasty cut ran from his mid-skull to forehead. The friends from the party ran outside to watch the one-sided fight. It was creating quite a ruckus. The neighbors heard some of the yelling and excitement.
“What’s going on out there?” the man next door called over.
His calls were ignored. “I’m calling the cops,” he called again.
Again, he was ignored.
Frankie dropped down to ground, placing his hand to his head. He looked at the blood that covered his hand in confusion. Then, he looked up at Margaret.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “You made me do it.”
She went back into the house and most of her friends followed. She opened another beer bottle and quickly emptied the contents. She thought, momentarily, about sending a rag out to Frankie. She quickly thought better of it –he should sit out there and think about how he treated her.
Then, they all heard the sirens. Margaret ran outside. A police car was pulling up to Frankie’s house. It stopped and an officer got out of the car. He had his flashlight on and was pointing it in Frankie’s direction.
“I got a complaint for this house. Anything wrong here?”
Margaret stepped forward. “No officer, just a party. I’m sorry if we got a little loud,” she said.
The officer shined his light on Frankie.
“What happened here?”
“Nothing officer, he just fell,” she answered again. “Is that so?” the officer asked.
“Yes, sir. Clumsy of me, right?” Frankie answered.
