I shift around on the bin underneath me, trying to find a more comfortable position. Checking the clock on my phone, it tells me it's been almost two hours since I had climbed down to the basement. Waiting so long for mom and Stanley to show up had left my butt sore from sitting on the hard plastic of the bin.
It was the first time I'd snuck down to watch them since my driving lesson with Stanley's cousin two days ago. I had been too ashamed and angry with myself over my small part in Stanley's blatant assertion and manipulation of my mom to consider it the previous couple of nights.
In bed, I had tossed and turned replaying the conversation I had with Stanley earlier in his truck, apprehension gripping my chest. He'd already managed to coerce me into making mom think he'd successfully taught me how to drive, so I could only imagine how many other ways he'd exert his growing influence in our home.
I spent most of the next day in my room, playing video games to distract myself from the anxiety that had made my sleep restless. But eventually, hunger got the best of me, and I was forced to venture downstairs for something to eat. I knew Stanley was probably over, so I decided to get in and out of the kitchen as fast as possible.
He and my mom were sitting at the kitchen table as I quietly padded into the room, trying not to disturb their conversation and draw attention to myself.
"Hello, sweetheart, where've you been all day?" Mom turned toward me as I approached the refrigerator.
"Oh, just up in my room," I replied, fishing material for a sandwich out of the fridge.
"Working hard studying for the written portion of the driving test I hope?"
I moved toward the counter, arms full, unsure of how to respond. She definitely wouldn't be happy to hear I've done nothing but play video games all day.
"Your mother asked you a question," Stanley addressed me, making my heart leap.
I slowly turned to face him as I set everything down on the counter in a heap.
"You been studying for the written portion of the test?" We made eye contact as he repeated mom's unanswered question.
"I, uhhh...," I break away from his intense gaze, looking down at the counter before continuing, "I haven't quite gotten to it yet."
"So what have you been doing the whole morning then?"
"Playing video games," I say quietly, still not looking up.
"Are you sure that's the best use of your time?"
I shake my head, briefly forgetting to answer verbally before uttering a quickly, "No."
"Then maybe that's not what you should be doing. Why not get it done now?"
I looked up again, meeting his leveled gaze, the look in eyes a reminder of our discussion.
"Better to get it out of the way, isn't it," he prompted again.
"You're right," I finally told him and a self-satisfied smirk appeared on his face. "I'll go start on it now."
Mom had quietly watched the interaction between us unfold, taking notice of how firmly Stanley handled the situation. This was the first test of what he'd said to me in the car yesterday and both of us had evidently passed; me by complying with Stanley's "suggestion" and him by effectively getting me to comply, earning a look of admiration and approval from mom.
"Well," he said, a bit more friendly now, "you don't have to get started right away. I think there's some time for you to eat your lunch. Need that brain food to study, right?"
He gave a stupid smirk and mom smiled at his banal joke.
"You'll have the rest of the afternoon to study," he continued. "Then you can tell us all about what you covered during dinner tonight."
I stared back at him, his expectations of me crystal clear. For a brief second, anger surged through me and I wanted to tell him to fuck off. But Stanley must've seen the glint of aggravation behind my glare, because his eyes narrowed slightly and his gaze hardened, almost daring me to confront him and find out the consequences of doing so.
Just as quickly as my fury rose, it faltered, and my whole body deflated from his intimidating stare. No matter how much I wanted or tried to stand up to him, part of me knew I'd never be able to, years of his bullying cowing me into being docile. Stanley evidently knew this as well, his lips pulling back in a triumphant, knowing smile before looking toward my mom.
"Speaking of dinner, what's on the menu for tonight, gorgeous?"
I turned back to the counter, quickly assembling my lunch.
"Roast chicken and garlic mashed potatoes," mom told him.
"Excellent. Now about tomorrow night, how about I bring some lamb chops from the shop and you cook it up for us? Sound good?"
"Absolutely, I can do that!"
"Perfect."
I brought my lunch up to my room, wanting to be in Stanley's presence as little as possible. Sure enough, at dinner, he made sure to inquire about how my studying had gone and I answered hoping to have read enough to satisfy him.
He seemed appeased, which relieved me until he said, "We'll see how far you've gotten by dinner tomorrow," making it clear that he not only expected regular updates on my progress but that he'd be around to ask for it.
I ate in silence, thinking that I could quietly escape back to my room once I was done, but Stanley made another show of his authority as I thanked mom for dinner and prepared to leave the table.
"How often do you do the dishes, Kyle?"
I paused, looking from my phone up to him. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner as he stared at me.
"Um, sometimes," I answered, looking away.
"Really? Because I don't think I've seen you clean up the table more than once in all the time I've had dinner over here."
I shrugged my shoulders, tentatively looking at him.
"Don't you think your mom deserves some help? After all, she does so much for you, doesn't she?"
"She does," I agreed.
"Good, it's nice of you to finally help her out then," he said as he stood up.
He led mom into the living room, leaving me to clean up the table and the cookware.
"Thank you, sweetheart," she called me to, a cheerful expression on her face.
I saw her squeeze his bicep in appreciation as she leaned into him. He smirked back at her, pleased with himself.
My cheeks burned red in humiliation as I gathered up plates and utensils from the table. I hated how guilty he made me feel for not helping mom to clean up more often and how he coerced me into doing so, especially because of how obvious of a move it was to establish control. Yet mom ate it up.
I ground my teeth as I rinsed and washed at the sink, sulking up to my room when I was finished and ignoring Stanley's mockingly cheerful call of "Goodnight, bud," as I passed him and mom on the couch. She had her hand on his arm, lightly stroking along his bicep.
The next night at dinner was the same. I gave a recount of my study session while we ate, explaining what I had read about that morning. Satisfied, Stanley took a swig from his wine glass before tearing back into the lamb.
When he was finished, he let out a belch and clasped his hands behind his head, spreading his long legs out wide as he relaxed back in Tim's chair.
"Fuck yeah," he said. "What a great dinner. You outdid yourself, gorgeous."
Mom smiled back at him. "I'm glad you liked it. The meat turned out so tender."
"Wait until you taste the duck I'm bringing for you to cook tomorrow. Best you'll ever taste."
I frowned at the way he had declared for us what we were having for dinner tomorrow instead of asking like he had yesterday. Mom saw no problem in it apparently.
"That sounds wonderful," she enthused. "I haven't had duck in so long. Tim's not much of an adventurous eater."
"Color me surprised," Stanley deadpanned, rolling his eyes. "You like exotic meat though, right, gorgeous?"
He smirked at her and she blushed, bashfully smiling up at him.
"I do, and lucky for me that my neighbor has the best kind," she told him confidently.
His smirk grew wider. "The best kind for sure. You can get your fill anytime, we're always happy to provide."