Tension flares between mother and daughter and they retreat with their lovers to separate rooms. Sex ensues. A little vanilla bondage, some ass play, you know, the usual.
Thanks to LarryInSeattle for his editing. Any errors that may remain belong to me.
Comments welcome, even negative constructive ones.
Enjoy.
*****
"What do you think is going on over there?"
"I hope a lot of fucking, mom."
"For God's sake, Jill, just give it a rest for one damn minute. Someday, and I hope I'm still alive to see it, you might tumble to the fact your non-stop bratty bitch routine isn't as much funny as it is tiresome."
There's not a hint of humor or understanding in my wife's voice. She's as angry at Jill as I've ever seen and I don't just mean as angry as I've ever seen her at Jill. She's as angry as I've ever seen her at anyone.
"I'm ninety-nine percent sure I've lost my goddamn mind. The only thing I'm uncertain about is whether the rest of you are as goddamn crazy as I am."
Meg shifts her gaze to me, daring me with her eyes to say something. I have no intention of doing so, not yet anyway. With her mother's attention drawn away, Jill opens her mouth but before she can speak, Meg pivots and aims a single finger straight at our daughter's mouth. For some reason I notice her nail polish is chipped.
"Shut it, Jill. I mean it. Just fucking shut it. I have never in my life had less interest in taking any of your bullshit. You're smart, maybe the smartest of the bunch of us. But maybe not. Your dad's smart and, here's a news flash, so am I. Even if I'm not as brilliant as you, I have twenty plus years of experience living in this world that you don't have. Oh, I know you think I'm some clueless dunderhead, incapable of appreciating how 'cool', how 'out there' you are, how sophisticated and imperturbable you are.
"Well, you're full of shit about that as well. Love isn't always enough. Fucking isn't always the answer. You think you'll be so superior when some red-neck old bitch spits in your face and calls you a 'nigger lover'. You think that can't happen anymore?
"You think we'll all just go on our merry ways, that the fact we've fucked and sucked each other is really no BFD. That there will be no repercussions from all this, on any of us? We'll just hold hands and skip through life singing 'Kumbaya'. That's not sophisticated. That's a level of naiveté that's almost pathetic."
Meg sags into her chair looking as deflated as a week-old party balloon. Jill's face collapses in on itself as she struggles not to cry. She pushes away from the table so violently her chair falls over backwards. Jim rises slowly. He catches Meg's eye and shakes his head softly.
"Not cool, Mrs. C." he whispers as he turns to follow Jill.
Meg looks at me.
"Go ahead. Tell me what a spiteful bitch I am."
"Nope. She needed to hear that. She's needed to hear it for quite some time. Maybe not all at once like that but she needed to hear it. You know Jill better than any of us. This is the only way that might actually work. You can't convince her of anything until you've bulldozed your way into that stubborn head of hers. Reminds me of you."
"She'll never forgive me. Neither will Jim."
She starts to cry and drops her head to the table. I rub the back of her neck and wonder if I should offer to do her nails.
***
I let her cry on my chest, seems like the best option at the moment.
"I fucking hate her," Jill growls into my chest.
"No you don't. It wouldn't have bothered you if you hated her. You might have bitch slapped her if you hated her but you wouldn't be sitting here bawling your eyes out."
"I am NOT bawling my eyes out!"
"No? You could have fooled me, darlin'."
"Why aren't you pissed? She called you, my own fucking mother, called you a nigger!"
"That wasn't your momma speaking; she was channeling the hateful parts of the world. But you're right, it was ugly hearing it come out of her mouth."
"She shouldn't have said it. I've never, ever, heard that word used in our house. Ever."
"I believe you. Maybe she shouldn't have used the word. It's not the first time I've heard it." I pause, debating whether I should say what I'm thinking. I decide I might as well. It's got to be said and I see no point in waiting. "Plus, she's right. You can snarl and show your claws all you want but you ain't never seen the world for what it is. You sure'n hell never had to deal with the real world."
She pushes away from my chest, looking like she'd just spotted a turd floating in the punch bowl.
"That is so not true. I can't believe you just said that."
"Yeah, baby, it is. You're a smart girl. Your heart is in the right place but you don't know shit from Shinola about dealing with the world. You've always had your brothers, your folks, a reasonable amount of money, and your white skin standing between you and the ugliness of this world. And there's still plenty of ugly to go around. Some catty sorority bitch making fun of your 'stop testing cosmetics on animals' booth t doesn't get you much in the way of street cred, girl.
"Your momma is right. She was harsher than need be, but she was right. It'll be a fuck sight easier than fifty years ago. I don't have to worry, too much anyway, that a bunch of Kluxers will hang me from a tree for kissing you in public but if you think there won't be looks galore and the not-so-soft whisper once in a while, you're as naïve as your momma says.
"Same for the shit going around her the past couple of days. You planning on grabbing Mark's junk out in public? You plan on telling anyone, even your closest girlfriend, you fucked your brothers? Dad? Watch me doing what I did with Bill? If you are, you're not naïve, you're plumb crazy."
"Don't be an ass," Jill snaps at me. "Of course I'm not going to tell anyone, but that's because they wouldn't understand, not because it's wrong."
